#“he enjoyed this more than anyone else” is my favorite part
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Can I request headcanons for Leviathan, Satan, Beleth, Asmodeus, Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Mammon reacting to shy gn s/o asking him if you can kiss him on the lips in private please?
Asking WHB demons to kiss them in private
⟡ Masterlist ⟡
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
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Satan will laugh at first
"Private? Why? We can kiss right here in front of everyone!"
But if you keep insisting, he will let you drag him into a nearby back alley
Don't expect it to end only with a kiss though
There will be at least some hand wandering until you stop them
And once you get back to the castle, Satan will expect to continue where you two left off
༺☆༻
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No problem for Mammon at all
If his s/o wants a kiss in private, they'll get it
In a flash he summons his golden hands that create a blocade around you, so the two of you are securely alone
Similarly to Satan however, expect his hands to wander to his favorite part of you
༺☆༻
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In Leviathan's case, I'd say that this is a usual setting for the two of you anyway
Unless you emphasise the 'privacy' a bit more to drive the point across even to those nobles that are around, but invisible
Also, I think you'd have more success getting a kiss from Levi by telling him that you're going to kiss him rather than asking him
It's playing into his forced-submission kink and by asking him, he has the choice to refuse
So I'd recommend not asking, but straight up telling him that you're going toegther somewhere more private
༺☆༻
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"Ah! I thought you'd never ask! I would love to whisk you away from everyone to have you only to myself! ...and maybe some of my clones!" he grins
He did understand what you meant, but it's much more fun to mess with you just to see your reaction
He'll even grab your wrist to softly tug you along, much to anyone elses, who might be around, dismay
But in reality, he is granting you your wish by simply leading you to a place with only the two of you
He might of might not summon some clones that will ask for a kiss as well
༺☆༻
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Beleth might be busy, but never for you
So when you ask him, he'll pause for a second and think about where is the biggest chance to not be interrupted by anyone
Then he simply chuckles and picks you up like it's nothing and starts walking
Plus he's super warm so you can just lean into his chest and enjoy
(I just imagined Beleth kabedon-ing me and oof, I might go and think about it for a while :D)
༺☆༻
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Honestly... I don't think Asmo would
And if he did say yes, it wouldn't be as private as you thought
He's a show-off to say the least
And if you're uncomfortable doing stuff out in the public, he will still try to argue exposure therapy to you
So yes, if you ask him if you two are alone, he'll nod that you are
But in reality there's a good part of Abaddon demons behind some curtain, wishing they were in your place
༺☆༻
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Just like with Levi, I imagine you and Lucifer being alone by default
Most of his nobles are always too busy tending to patients and Jjok...
Jjok is probably struggling for his life somewhere (poor baby U.U)
But maybe you feel too exposed in the large greenhouse...
(That's so valid tbh)
Lucifer has no problem taking it somewhere else just for your comfort
He'll even keep it respectful and not try to push it any further
#feeling productive today for no reason whatsoever :D#what in hell is bad#what in “hell” is bad?#whb satan#whb mammon#whb leviathan#whb beelzebub#whb gehenna#whb beleth#whb asmodeus#whb lucifer
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𝗘𝗻𝗵𝘆𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗠𝗧𝗟: 𝗕𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗔𝘁 𝗢𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗚𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴)
⋆𐙚₊˚ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸᴸᵘᵛᶻ
MOST LIKELY
Heeseung — "I’m not stopping until you can’t think straight."
Heeseung lives for the sounds you make when he’s between your thighs. He’s the type to take his time, teasing you until you’re sobbing, overstimulated, begging for more. His stamina is insane, and he won’t stop until you physically pull him away. You’re already trembling, your legs threatening to close around his head, but heeseung just smirks. "What’s wrong, baby?" His voice is muffled against your heat, his tongue never slowing. "You said you could handle me." He pins your hips down, lapping at you relentlessly, and when you cry out, he groans—because he’s not done yet.
Jay — "You taste too good to stop now."
Jay takes so much pride in making you fall apart on his tongue. He’s slow, sensual, methodical—like he’s savoring every second. He makes everything about you feel worshipped, and the way he moans against you? It’s enough to drive you insane. You’re writhing beneath him, your fingers tangled in his hair, but Jay just chuckles against your skin. "Don’t rush me, sweetheart," he murmurs, sliding his tongue over your most sensitive spot. "I want to enjoy my meal." And with the way he’s devouring you? You know he means it.
Sunghoon — "I won’t stop until you’re begging me to."
Sunghoon has something to prove. He wants to see you fall apart because of him, wants to hear you moan his name like it’s the only thing you remember. He’s messy, intense, and completely dedicated to your pleasure. His lips are wet with your arousal, his grip on your thighs firm as he drags his tongue against your entrance. You try to move away, overwhelmed, but he holds you down. "You’re not going anywhere," he growls, pressing soft kisses against your trembling thighs. "Not until I’m satisfied." And the way he looks at you? You know you’re in for a long night.
Jake — "I just love making you feel good, baby."
Jake loves eating you out—it turns him on just as much as it does you. He’s all about making sure you’re comfortable, but once he gets started? He won’t stop until you’re completely spent. His favorite thing? Hearing you whimper for him. You tug at his hair, trying to push him away, but he just hums against you, sending vibrations straight through your core. "One more, baby," he pleads, looking up at you with those puppy-dog eyes. "Just one more, yeah?" And with the way his tongue is working you over? You know damn well it won’t be just one more.
Sunoo — "You’re so cute when you’re falling apart for me."
Sunoo isn’t the most experienced, but what he lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. He loves watching your reactions—loves the way your breath hitches when he flicks his tongue just right. If you guide him a little, he’ll ruin you. You gasp as he drags his tongue against you, his fingers digging into your thighs. He looks up, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Does that feel good, baby?" he teases, giving a playful kitten lick. "Tell me how you want it." And when you do? He listens—and doesn’t stop until you’re shaking.
Ni-ki — "I bet I can make you fall apart in seconds."
Ni-ki is cocky about it. He might not have the most experience, but he learns fast. He’s competitive, so the second you so much as whimper, he’s smirking—because he knows he’s got you now. You’re gripping the sheets, barely holding on, but Ni-ki just chuckles, tongue flicking exactly where you need it. "See?" he murmurs against your skin. "Told you I’d make you cum faster than anyone else." And the worst part? He’s right.
Jungwon — "Just tell me what you like, baby."
Jungwon is so eager to please. He’s a fast learner, and if you tell him what you like? He’ll get damn good at it. He’s all about making sure you feel good, though—so if you tease him too much, he’ll make you pay for it later. His tongue moves tentatively at first, testing, teasing, learning your reactions. And once he finds what makes your breath hitch? He focuses—driving you higher and higher. "Like that?" he murmurs, his grip tightening on your hips. And when you moan out a desperate yes? He doesn’t stop.
LEAST LIKELY
#mzchrry#serenityluvz#divider by cafekitsune#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen smut#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fic#enhypen mtl#enhypen most to least
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from the LA Times (x)
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Vincent Price with his wax figure at Movieland Wax Museum in Buena Park, CA.
"My favorite story was of Vincent Price who ( in the 60's ) would occasionally stop in and fill in for his wax figure, personally. Could you imagine someone commenting on how lifelike he looks only to have Price turn and say "I know, quite disturbing, isn't it?" x
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rafe has always been close with his sister…
c/w: incest, dubcon, oral (m receiving), rafe being a perv about his (adopted) sister & her being inexperienced, 18+ mdni!
wc: 1.7k
part two & moodboard
if this is something u don’t like, scroll & read something else xx
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Her big brother has always been rather overbearing, which is something she’s tried to shrug off as him merely being protective, but as far as her understanding of siblings goes— they aren’t supposed to act the way Rafe does.
Ever since they were little, Rafe has been weird about everyone in their strange family, but sometimes it makes her feel gross when he barges into her room while she’s changing— not even bothering to cover his eyes as he sits down on her mattress and starts ranting about something completely irrelevant.
It makes her feel disgusting when she notices the subtle smirk tugging at his mouth as his gaze narrows down onto whatever bare sliver of skin she’s hurriedly trying to hide from his borderline hungry eyes.
And she doesn’t particularly enjoy when he gets wasted or high off of whatever he’s snorted at some stupid party and insists that he just has to sleep next to her because he’s not feeling good. And despite her drowsy complaints, he’s always snuggling too close for comfort with his hands all over her; pulling her flush against him and letting the cushion of his lips graze the skin of her neck.
He keeps telling her that it’s nothing out of the ordinary when he gives her details about the girls he’s slept with and what his favorite positions are, even if she’s told him multiple times that she doesn’t want to know. And whenever they’re home alone, he even goes as far as bringing girls to his room— making sure their loud moans echo right into her bedroom when he knows she’s trying to study.
And whenever he’s tagging along during her little shopping trips (he doesn’t let her go alone because what if something happens?), he always demands on joining her in the fitting rooms— even squeezing himself into the crammed space when she’s trying on lingerie, claiming that she absolutely needs his opinion.
“Rafe, that’s weird,” she tries to get him to wait outside but of course he merely rolls his eyes.
“S’not weird, know how indecisive you can be, jus’ wanna help,” he says, seemingly genuine while he’s already fiddling with the clip of her bra.
And she feels her cheeks burning when the cashier mentions how sweet it is that her boyfriend is paying for her clothes— to which Rafe merely chuckles while she can’t find the words to correct the poor woman because she’d probably faint if she learned the truth about their relationship.
More often than not, he tends to be borderline territorial. One time, she’s simply talking to a guy at some party, when all of a sudden, she feels an all too familiar presence behind her.
“Who’s this, hm?” he slurs, slinging a heavy arm over her shoulder.
“Oh, it’s…um, no one,” she peeps out because she knows how he is. However, her attempts at calming him down prove to be fruitless because he’s already approaching the guy with a scoff.
“You, uh, you do know that this is m’sister, right? Mine. So, why don’t you, uh, go ‘n try to impress some other bitch, yeah?” he offers him a sickly-sweet smile, voice harsh before telling her they’re leaving— strong hands on her waist already dragging her towards his truck.
“I was having fun,” she complains when he’s putting the seatbelt on her— his breath smelling of beer when he drawls out a reply. “You can have all the fun you want with me when we get home, yeah?”
“But I wanted to spend time with my friends,” she pouts.
“That’s just too bad then, isn’t it?” he murmurs while starting the engine— resting a warm palm on her thigh soon after, ignoring her efforts of shrugging it off.
- - - - - - - - - - -
When he learns that she hasn’t had her first kiss yet (because why would anyone even think about touching her when they know Rafe is a complete psycho), he mocks her to the point of her eyes growing glossy as she tries to blink away the soggy droplets.
“S’okay, you wanna get it over with, hm? I’ll help you,” he so kindly offers with faux concern glimmering in the moonstones of his eyes.
“Rafe, that’s gross,” she frowns, to which he merely furrows his brows before scoffing— as if she’s the one being weird.
“So, uh, so you tellin’ me you want some…some stranger at a party who only wants to get in your pants to do it instead?” he narrows his eyes as if that’s the only alternative.
“N— no,” her answer is hesitant.
“Listen, m’just…m’just, tryna be a good brother ‘n help my little sister out, but if you don’t want m’help then don’t come cryin’ to me when you embarrass yourself cause you don’t even know how to kiss,” he lifts his hands up in surrender before shrugging, suggesting that he’d merely be doing her a favor.
And before her brain has the time to process what’s happening, he’s already dragging her into his lap. And it feels wrong when their mouths are suddenly slotting together— when he’s letting out a shallow groan and slipping his tongue past her teeth without so much as a warning.
“Rafe! You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that,” she squeaks out, pulling away with her face all crumpled up, feeling disconcerted.
“Shut up, you’re gonna wake up everyone, thought you wanted to learn?” he mutters out before he’s smearing his mouth on hers once more— this time with a tight grip on her jaw that forces her to stay put as the the kiss turns into something sloppy; wet.
And afterwards, he makes her promise that she won’t tell anyone because ‘you don’t want dad to get mad at you, do you?’ and even if she feels guilt eat away at her, she keeps it to herself because the last thing she wants is to upset anyone.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
“Rafe guess what? I have a date tomorrow,” she gives him a giddy smile while stepping into his room a few weeks later.
“With who?” he eyes her while slouching on his bed, seemingly in the midst of texting someone.
“This guy I met on the beach today,” she sits down on the edge of the mattress when he places his phone on his nightstand.
“Yeah? What’s his name?” he asks, shifting closer.
“Um, Ethan.”
“Last name?”
“I— I don’t know, didn’t ask…why does it matter? Was just wondering if you could drive me there?” she says, surprised by his sudden interest.
“Where?” his tone sounds almost exasperated now, as if she’s done something bad.
“Um, we’re just gonna hang out at his house,” she chews on her bottom lip, suddenly nervous.
“You havin’ a date at his house? You finally gonna lose that virginity, huh?” he asks as patronizing laughter bubbles from his chest.
“What? No! S’not like that,” she mumbles, her skin already boiling.
“No? You do know when guys say they wanna hang out, it means they wanna fuck, right? You’re not that stupid, are you?” his gaze is borderline condescending when he raises his brows.
“Well, he’s not like that, he seems nice,” she tries to defend herself, feeling small all of a sudden.
“Sweetheart, every guy’s like that, especially the ones that seem nice, you’re so fuckin’ naive,” he scoffs while running a hand through his hair.
“You know what? Forget about it, I’ll just walk there,” she huffs out, standing up to leave, however, she doesn’t get far before he’s grabbing at her arm.
“Listen, m’just tryna look out for you, okay? Don’t feel like dealin’ with your shit ‘bout how he broke your heart. I mean, if you’re not gonna let him hit, he’s gonna be expectin’ somethin’ else, you know that, right?”
She swallows.
“I— are you sure? But…but I don’t even know how to—”
“Poor baby, what would you do without your big brother, hm? Don’t worry, I’ll teach you, yeah?” he coos before pinky promising he’ll be gentle.
And that’s how she ends up on her knees in front of him.
“Ray, this doesn’t feel…right,” she mumbles out, eyes focused on the ruddy tip he’s thumbing over while he stares at her.
“Shh, can be our little secret, yeah? Jus’ wanna make sure my little sister doesn’t embarrass herself,” he lets out a grunt when she blinks up at him with uncertain eyes.
“Open your mouth, tongue out,” he instructs while moving closer to her tentative form, biting his lip when she gingerly does what he tells her to. Then, he’s thudding the drippy head on the flat of her tongue— one, two, three times, which makes her let out a noise; something that only seems to spur him on.
He tastes salty and she doesn’t necessarily mind it, which makes her feel entirely too gross about the situation altogether— the words ‘I don’t wanna do this anymore’ turning into a tangled muddle when he’s already pushing past her lips, making her gag around the sudden intrusion.
“Shit, tha’s good, jus’ take it, yeah?” he rumbles out; a big hand holding the back of her head as he stuffs himself deeper down her throat— cock twitching in response to her whines and attempts at drawing away for air.
It overwhelms her to no end when he’s so rough, abrasive, but despite his broken promise, she’s unable to prevent her thighs from pressing together when throaty moans keep escaping him; his respiration turning labored by each lazy rut of his hips while her head begins to spin.
Only when his sticky cum gushes onto her tongue— the white substance dribbling past the seam of her lips and covering her chin in the process, does he grant her a moment to catch her breath.
“Guys like it when you swallow,” his voice is like gravel when he pushes at her jaw, heady gaze glued to the way her throat bobs when she does just that, the aftertaste of what they’ve done making her feel stained; dirty.
“You know, s’cute you thought I’d let some, some shithead fuck my sister,” he sounds almost humored as he pats at the flushed skin of her cheek— making her eyes turn watery when he swipes a thumb under her wobbly bottom lip to clean up the remaining mess.
She feels something in her guts churn when he tucks it back into her mouth with a sick smile.
#put (adopted) so the fun police would leave me alone!#big brother!rafe#cw incest#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#obx rafe cameron#rafe fic#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron thoughts#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron scenarios#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron concepts#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron brainrot
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Cuddling - Part 1
Summary: How do they cuddle you?
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid
Genre: Fluff
CW: None // SFW
———
Luffy:
He’s more of a koala bear than a literal koala bear. He doesn’t even realize cuddling is a thing because it’s so normal to him, like eating and breathing. You’ve literally never slept in the same bed with him without him wrapping himself around you (neither has anyone else, for that matter). He even gets a little grumpy if you’re not there for him to hold on to.
Zoro:
It’s not called cuddling, that’s for sure. He might refer to holding you, but that’s about it. One of his guilty pleasures, though, is being held by you. He especially likes it when you sit behind him and wrap both your arms and legs around him, bonus points if you run your hands up and down his chest and abdomen.
Sanji:
A total cuddle bug. He usually comes to bed after you (though not so late that you’re already asleep), and likes to slip between your legs while you’re sitting up against the pillows. Bonus points if you rub his back or smooth his hair. He’s also one for quick daytime snuggles, often coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you for a long hug.
Ace:
He grabs hold of you easily, but he doesn’t let go easily. If he falls asleep, you’ll be stuck by his side until he wakes up because he holds on to you so tight. He’s clingy, but not in a little spoon kind of way, more of a ‘I’m going to put you where I want you’ kind of way. It puts him at ease to keep you so close because he feels your a little safer that way.
Sabo:
He’s so sweet about it. He holds you like a baby every time you two have any privacy, encouraging you to wrap not only your arms but also your legs around him. He sort of pretends it’s to put you at ease and make you feel safe, but the weight and warmth of your body makes him feel safe and, in particular, makes him feel capable and dependable.
Law:
If you call him the little spoon, he’ll break up with you, but he is often the little spoon. He gets annoyed when you don’t automatically wrap your arms around him in bed because he doesn’t want to embarrass himself by asking. One of his favorite things in the world is falling asleep with his head in your lap while you play with his hair.
Kid:
Not so much cuddling as it is him collapsing on top of you. If you manage to fall asleep without him on top of you, you’ll wake up either with him on top of you or to him yanking you into his arms to hold you against his chest while he’s still asleep. Treats you like his teddy bear, hangs on to you extra tight when he’s stressed.
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
#one piece#one piece headcanons#one piece fluff#luffy x reader#zoro x reader#sanji x reader#ace x reader#portgas d ace x reader#sabo x reader#law x reader#trafalgar law x reader#eustass kid x reader#one piece x reader#luffy fluff#zoro fluff#sanji fluff#ace fluff#law fluff#kid fluff
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baby, won't you be my girl?
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pairing: theodore nott x reader. song inspiration: only girl by stephen sanchez. author’s note: theodore nott, the man that you are. please enjoy my favorite flirty yummy slytherin boy 🐍 part two: stop the world i wanna get off with you.
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Theodore Nott was not the jealous type.
Jealousy required emotions, which Theo found so terribly unrefined. He was a Slytherin, for Salazar’s sake. Not some hotheaded Gryffindor incapable of keeping his anger in check. But as he glared daggers at the back of some pathetic little beater who was currently flirting with you across the common room, Theo couldn’t help but feel downright murderous.
The worst part was that he could’ve prevented all of this. If he had just manned the fuck up, Theo would’ve been the one pressed close against you, whispering his signature suggestive comments in your ear and making you smile.
But Theo—absolute tosser that he was—didn’t realize his blunder until it was too late.
Earlier that week, the two of you had been studying in his room. Well, you were studying. Theo, on the other hand, was smoking enough pot to sedate a hippogriff. He inhaled deeply, watching with a slight smirk on his face as you frowned into your Charms textbook. You were laying on your stomach at the edge of his bed with notes strewn all around you. The combination of your slightly unbuttoned white blouse, dangerously short black pleated skirt, and green and silver high knee socks affected him more than the drugs he was currently inhaling.
There was something incredibly sexy about a beautiful woman laying in his bed and completely ignoring him in favor of a dusty old tome. Or maybe it was just you. To be fair, Theo found everything about you quite sexy. Even your infamous lectures regarding his drug habits, which you were due to give him in three…two…one….
You huffed indignantly, the action ruffling the feathers on your quill. “I will never understand why you voluntarily choose to put that rubbish into your body.”
Theo shrugged, blowing a puff of smoke towards the ceiling. “It’s relaxing.”
“What could you possibly be stressed about, Teddy?”
He smiled at the nickname. If anyone else called him that, Theo would’ve hexed the life out of them, but he liked the way it sounded when you said it. Especially when you were a little bit annoyed at him.
“I’ve got a lot on my shoulders, love.” He took another drag and sighed dramatically. “Being rich and handsome is incredibly tiring work.”
You snorted. “You’re an absolute twat, you know that?”
Theo held the blunt between his slender fingers and plopped down next to you. “A rich and handsome twat.”
“A rich, handsome, and dead twat if you don’t get that blunt away from my textbook.” Theo smiled sheepishly before putting out the cigarette on the ashtray by his bedside table. You rolled your eyes and tapped the end of your quill against his chest. “You should really quit. That shit’s terrible for your lungs.”
Theo turned, cocking his head at you. His watercolor eyes bored into yours as a smirk curved against his lips. “What will you give me if I do?”
“Theodore Aurelius Nott,” you chided. Despite the blush creeping into your cheeks, you managed to keep your voice steady as you glared at the perfectly coiffed prick. “Do not make me stab you with my quill.”
He grinned. There was nothing Theo enjoyed more than making his best friend flustered. “I’ll take a light stabbing if it means that you’ll start paying attention to me again.” You laughed at his childish pout. “What are you studying so hard for anyways?”
“We have a Charms exam on Friday and you know how brutal Flitwick is.”
“Scheduling an exam on the same day as a quidditch game should be a crime punishable by wizarding law.” Theo complained with a groan. “A game against Gryffindor, no less.”
“Not everything revolves around quidditch, Theo.”
“Try telling that to Malfoy,” he said with a sigh. “The bloody git’s been running the whole team ragged. For the past three weeks, Draco’s been forcing all of us to wake up before sunrise. I’m losing my precious beauty sleep, Y/N.”
You pouted, pinching his cheeks. “Poor Teddy bear. How will you ever recover?”
"Smartass," Theo said with a smirk.
"Top of the class, baby." You rolled over and winked at him. "I really am that witch."
"I think I'm rubbing off on you, love."
"In your dreams, Nott."
He chuckled. "Oh, I'm definitely rubbing off on you." Theo snatched the quill out of your hands. "Enough studying. I'd rather talk about how I'm going to crush those Gryffindor brutes, which I can only do with you cheering me on from the stands."
You took the quill back, tapping its feathery edge against Theo's nose. “You know that watching all that flying makes me nauseous. Plus, I can’t even enjoy myself because I’m too worried about you taking a bludger to the head.”
“I promise not to let anything ruin my pretty face. I know how much you enjoy the view, after all,” Theo said with a wink. “If you promise to come.”
“I don’t know, Teddy…”
He pouted, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. “Please, Y/N. I need my good luck charm. Plus, you look cute in my jersey.”
“My eyes are closed half of the time from sheer terror,” you pointed out. Theo watched as you fiddled with the end of your quill. “Besides, wouldn’t it be weird to wear your jersey and cheer you on?”
Theo’s brows furrowed. “Why would it be weird?”
“Because,” you said matter-of-factly. “Those are things a girlfriend would normally do.”
“Well, yes, traditionally. But you’re my best friend,” Theo explained. “It’s not like that between us.”
The minute the words came out of his mouth, Theo knew it was the wrong thing to say. You stiffened beside him, your body language turning as tense as a bowstring.
“Right,” you said in a tight tone. “It’s definitely not like that between us.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I just—I mean you’re not like the other guy’s girlfriends. We’ve known each other for ages. We just don’t see each other that way.”
Theodore Nott, idiot extraordinaire. If looks could kill, he’d be at the bottom of the Black Lake waiting to become a delicious feast for the merpeople.
“Of course not,” you said with humorless laughter. “We’re just friends. It would be mental for anyone to think that we’d ever be in a relationship, right?”
There was a challenge behind those words. Despite the fact that his dorm was deep within the dungeons, Theo could hear a slight ringing in his ears, like the howl of the wind as he raced past on his Nimbus, heart beating against his chest as he prepared to hurl the quaffle with all his might. Only now his target wasn’t a goal hoop.
It was you. His best friend. The girl he had been head over heels in love with since the moment you pushed Adrian Pucey into a bush at Malfoy Manor for making fun of five year old Theo’s lisp.
He should say something, anything, but for once in his life, Theodore Nott had no witty comeback in his arsenal. Stupid, pathetic coward that he was, all he could manage was a nod.
“Right,” he licked his lips nervously. “Just friends.”
The disappointment in your eyes felt like a punch to the gut. Worse than when he’d broken his arm in third year. Worse than when Mattheo dragged him into a brawl with those brawny Durmstrang guys in fourth year. He would have gladly taken another meaty Bulgarian fist to the face rather than face you right now.
Theo watched helplessly as you rolled off the bed and stuffed your studying materials into your leather satchel. “Wait, Y/N. Are you leaving? I thought you wanted to study?”
You slipped your shoes on, averting his gaze. “I do, which is why I’m gonna head to the library. I’m more focused there, anyways.”
Theo was still utterly confused as he scrambled after you. “Let me at least walk you to—”
“That’s really not necessary,” you said, cutting him off. “I’ll see you later, Theo.”
Theo, did not, in fact, see you later.
If avoiding him was a sport, you would’ve won the bloody Triwizard cup. The fact that you memorized his schedule for him since he couldn’t be trusted to actually remember to show up to class probably helped. Theo didn’t realize how accustomed he had grown to having you around until you weren’t there.
When Enzo obliviously rebuffed a Hufflepuff’s attempt to flirt with him at breakfast, Theo turned to your usual spot beside him to nudge you only to find the space empty. When Potter & Co. prattled on about whatever martyr cause they’d picked up that week, Theo found himself searching for you across the Potions classroom to share an eyeroll, but caught a glimpse of your retrieving back instead. The last straw had been when Elizabeth Burke’s portrait refused to let him into his own dorms because Theo couldn’t remember the passcode. He never had to since you always came in together.
In other words, Theo was absolutely fucking miserable. Even the team’s win against Gryffindor failed to lift his spirits. He knew that it had only been a week, but he missed you so fucking much that it actually hurt.
The sight of you walking into the common room filled him with instant relief. For about half a second. Until he saw that you weren’t alone.
Then, Theo had reverted back to his sulky self, choosing a shady spot amidst the raging party to drown his sorrows with a bottle of firewhisky. He had gone through at least half of the Ogden’s while chain smoking like a Hungarian Horntail.
“Oi, what’s got your wand in a twist?” Mattheo asked while snatching the cigarette out of Theo’s mouth. He took a deep inhale and blew a puff of smoke directly into Theo’s face. “Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating our victory? Why’d you look like someone pissed in your soup?”
“Fuck off, Riddle,” Theo muttered in response as he took back his cigarette. The smoke made the room hazy, but not enough to block you from view.
The beater—the fucking twat—leaned in to whisper into your ear. Whatever he said made you burst into laughter, which once again filled Theo with pure, unadulterated rage.
“Someone’s in a mood,” Enzo remarked, plopping down on the sofa beside Theo. A circle of third years hovered at the edge of their group, but as usual, Berkshire remained utterly oblivious to their presence. Bloody hell, he was even worse than Theo.
“I bet ten galleons that Nott bashes Murdock’s head in before the end of the night,” Draco said.
“Murdock, is it?” Theo grunted. “What do we know about the prick?”
Blaise rolled his eyes. “Absolutely nothing. He’s not even worth gossiping about,” he announced dismissively while sipping his drink. Imported French wine, probably. Zabini would never partake in something as common as beer.
Mattheo’s lips curled in amusement. ���Besides the fact that he’s making a move on Theo’s girl.”
“She’s not my girl,” Theo said defensively.
“Really?” Malfoy drawled, raising a pale blonde brow. “So you wouldn’t mind if I asked Y/N to dance?”
“Don’t even fucking think about it, Malfoy.”
The Slytherin boys laughed. For them, the week had been amusing as all hell. They had never seen Theo this wound up before. A few days without Y/N and their usual sassy, sarcastic mate had turned into a complete basket case.
Pansy sighed. “For Salazar’s sake, Theo. Either man the fuck up or stand down. Y/N deserves to have a good night, too. Who she has it with is entirely up to you.”
Pansy Parkinson was a pain in the arse, but she was also right.
With that, Theo put his cigarette out on the ashtray and stood from his place on the sofa. It only took three strides for Theo to get to you. Four for you to startle as he casually put his arm around your shoulders.
“There you are,” he whispered into your ear. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
You froze in place as Theo pulled you close. The scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke enveloped you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame.
Under normal circumstances, you would’ve flown straight into the fire that was Theodore Nott, but tonight you were in no mood to get burned. You’ve already endured enough pain and humiliation from your last conversation.
Just friends kept replaying over and over in your head like a broken record. You felt like an absolute pillock. For years, it felt like the two of you had been teetering towards…something. All that shameless flirting, the lingering touches, the late night conversations. You had been stupid enough to believe in the possibility that Theo felt for you what you felt for him.
But maybe it was all in your imagination.
“Theo,” you said, slinking out of his reach. Hurt flashed in his eyes as you faced him. “Congrats on the win. Christoph said it was a good game.”
“It would’ve been better if you were in the stands,” Theo said softly.
“I was busy.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he eyed Christoph with disdain. “Listen, can we go somewhere and talk? I haven’t seen you all week.”
You crossed your arms. “We just got here.”
Theo was not well pleased by your use of ‘we’ as if you and Murdock were suddenly now a thing. He barely spared the sodding prick a glance. You couldn’t actually be attracted to this prat, could you? He was all wrong for you. Murdock had a stocky beater build and short blonde cropped hair. You hated beefy guys and you were definitely not a fan of blondes. Case in point: Draco.
No, you liked tall sarcastic brunettes with messy hair and a slight nicotine addiction.
You liked him.
So Theo stayed put, meeting your gaze with equal intensity. There was no way in hell he was backing down.
For good measure, he pouted slightly and fixed his eyes on you. “Please, Y/N.”
He saw the exact moment when your resolve broke. Your expression softened and your shoulders relaxed, slumping in defeat. You sighed before turning over to Murdock. “Do you mind giving us a moment?”
Christoph nodded. “I’ll fetch us some more drinks.”
Theo watched him walk away, or rather, he glared at his back until Murdock was out of sight.
“Really, Y/N?” Theo asked incredulously. “You're slumming it with that benchwarmer?”
You wheeled towards him, eyes blazing with fire. Oh, he was truly in for it now. “First of all, I’m not ‘slumming it’ with anyone and even if I were, it’s none of your bloody business. Second of all, Christoph is actually a really nice guy.”
Theo scoffed. “Yeah, because you’re suddenly into really nice guys now.”
“Well maybe I got tired of hanging around pricks.”
Ouch. That one definitely hurt. Even if it was well deserved.
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all week?” Theo asked, stepping closer. “You’ve been busy with Murdock?”
Merlin’s beard, Theo was ridiculously tall. He towered a good foot over you, cornering you against the wall. His eyes were stormy and dark like a predator watching its prey.
“Careful, Theo,” you warned, meeting his gaze. “You almost sound jealous.”
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Neither one of you were backing down from this little standoff. Theo braced himself against the wall, his face inches away from yours.
“What if I am?” He challenged, his eyes dipping to your mouth. “What if I told you that it’s taking every ounce of self control I have not to rip Murdock to shreds?”
A shiver skittered down your spine. Theo wasn’t a violent person. Sure, he’d been in a fight or two, but that was mostly Mattheo’s doing. Your best friend wasn’t the aggressive type, so to hear him threaten Christoph took you by surprise.
“You have no reason to be jealous, Theo.” You countered. “After all, we’re just friends.”
“No, we’re not,” he said. “We’ve never been just friends, Y/N.”
“Then why did you—”
“Because I’m an idiot and a coward,” Theo said with a sigh. “Because I had a beautiful girl in my bed and I had no idea how to tell her that I’ve been in love with her since I was five.”
All the anger and hurt you’ve been carrying around for the past week instantly dissolved. A little smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “You’re in love with me?”
“I thought that much was obvious, love.”
“Hmm,” you hummed in response. “Theodore Nott, infamous playboy and shameless flirt, is in love with me. What an interesting development.”
Theo groaned. “Now is not the time to be a smartass, Y/N.”
“I think it’s the perfect time—”
You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence. Suddenly, Theo’s lips were on yours. He tasted like peppermint and whiskey, and he kissed you like his life depended on it. You sighed into his mouth, melting against his touch as he cupped the side of your cheek. This was definitely not a just friends kiss. It was a butterfly inducing, head in the clouds, sweep you off your feet kind of kiss.
Theo's hands snaked around your waist as your fingers found purchase in his shaggy brown hair. He pulled you flush against him like he couldn't get enough. Merlin's pants, Theo really knew how to kiss. His lips were soft against yours, but there was a roughness in his actions that told you that his restraint was hanging on by a thread.
Like he'd been waiting for this for far too long.
You knew the feeling all too well.
"Darling, if you keep kissing me like that then this party will receive a show they didn't ask for."
You stuck your tongue out at him. "You started it."
"Shall I end it too, love?"
"You're an absolute twat, Theodore Nott." You rolled your eyes, kissing the tip of his nose affectionately. “A rich, handsome twat that I'm in love with."
Somewhere across the room, the hoots and hollers of your friends ignited a deafening cheer. Mattheo and Enzo clapped Theo on the back. Blaise raised his glass in approval. Draco smirked and exchanged galleons with Pansy. You didn’t even want to know what that was about.
“Fucking finally,” Mattheo remarked. “Notty boy here has been impossible to deal with this entire week. I never noticed how much of a wanker he can be when you aren’t there to balance him out, Y/N.”
You chuckled. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”
Enzo grimaced. “You weren’t on the receiving end of his quaffles,” he said, eyeing Theo. “He nearly took my head off.”
That only made you laugh more. “Teddy bear wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“No, it’s true. Nott went absolutely mental.” Draco confirmed, draping an arm around your shoulder. “I’ve never seen him play like that. He wiped the floor with those pathetic Gryffindors. You should ignore him more often, Y/N."
Pansy wrinkled her nose. “Please don’t. Looking at his miserable face put me off my meals for an entire week. I couldn’t even bear to eat any of my special Belgian chocolates. I missed out on Belgian chocolates, Y/N!”
“You lot are overexaggerating,” Theo said, pulling you in by the waist. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“Please, you were an absolute mess without Y/N,” Blaise added.
“More like an absolute wanker,” Mattheo supplied.
“An absolute supreme mega wanker,” Draco agreed. “Even by my standards.”
“It was pretty brutal,” said Enzo.
Theo glared at all of them before taking your hand. “Let’s go, Y/N. I’d rather not stand around and get insulted all night.”
“Sure thing. But I should probably tell Christoph that I’m…indisposed.”
Mattheo grinned mischievously. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Murdock.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “What did you do, Riddle?”
“I didn’t do anything,” he said innocently. “The boys and I just let him know that he should set his sights elsewhere.”
“We also might have implied that we’d turn him into a horned bullfrog if he ever hit on you again,” Enzo said with a smile.
“The audacity he even had approaching you is frankly insulting,” Malfoy remarked. “Everyone knows you’re off limits.” He smirked. “Unfortunately.”
Theo fell right into Draco’s bait. “Don’t hit on my girl, Malfoy.”
Blaise raised an amused brow. “Oh, she’s your girl now, is she?
“Of course she is,” Theo said. He linked his fingers with yours and flashed those pretty eyes at you. The perfect mixture of blue and green, just like the ocean during a storm. “If she’ll have me.”
You smiled, wide and bright. “Come on, Teddy. Your girl wants to dance.”
#theodore nott#theo nott#theo nott fic#theodore nott fic#theo nott smut#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theo nott imagine#blaise zabini#enzo berkshire#draco malfoy
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♡ Ateez & Their Favorite Part of Their Chubby Gf's Body ♡
♡ A/N: This one (as with anything I do tbh) is for my chubby babes out there so I hope you enjoy it my darlings. Make sure to check the warnings under the break. Love you to pieces - xoxo your chubby godmother
♡ Pairing: ot8!ateez x chubby!fem!reader
♡ Genre: smut/fluff
♡ Word Count: 1.5k-ish total
♡ Warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), swallowing, nibbling, kissing, marking, spanking, doggystyle, nipple play, tit sucking, dry humping, riding, manhandling, some dom vibes, rough sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, hair grabbing, mirror sex
♡ Hongjoong ♡
Hongjoong loves your body, that isn’t even a question, but the first thing he noticed about you was that pretty face of yours and that’ll never stop being his absolute favorite thing about you. You have the sort of eyes he could get lost in forever and a smile that gives him butterflies every time he looks at you. Don’t even get him started on how kissable your cheeks are. They’re always so soft and fluffy, especially when his cock’s buried between them, your glossy lips wrapped around his thickness as your head rocks up and down his length. He likes to stroke your cheeks while you look up at him, feeling them flutter around him, your tongue squirming against the throbbing veins of his cock. Nothing’s hotter to him than seeing your cheeks get even fluffier when they’re all filled up with his cum right before you swallow him down like the good girl that you are.
♡ Seonghwa ♡
Seonghwa has made such a habit of tracing your stretch marks with his fingertips that it’s become a mindless act at this point. You’ll never have to feel shy or ashamed when you discover new ones because he finds them beautiful. It’s to the point where he doesn’t even need to have his eyes on them to know they’re there. On days when you’re feeling a little insecure he likes to take you into the bedroom and bend you over right in front of the full length mirror. He’ll grab your hair, not letting you take your eyes off of your teary eyed reflection for a second. Not only does he want you to see how you take his cock better than anyone else ever has. He wants you to see how hot those stretch marks look riding your curves. He whispers words of praise to you that only make your nipples stiffer and your pussy wetter. By the end of it all you’re leaking enough to make a little puddle on the floor and you’ve cum so hard you can barely talk but you feel like the hottest girl in the world.
♡ San ♡
San’s been staring at your ass all day. It doesn’t matter if you’re wearing the tightest dress possible or a loose fitting pair of sweatpants. He knows what a perfect ass you have and anytime it's in his line of vision he gets the irresistible urge to touch it. That’s why he has to do everything not to cum too soon when you’re bent over in front of him, your knees buried in the mattress and your ass poked up in the air begging him to spank it. The recoil the first time he thrusts his cock into you is enough to make him drool. Your ass jiggles so wonderfully when he fucks you like this, your walls clamping down around him each time he slaps your ass to tell you how well you’re taking him. The sound of his palms snapping against your skin is so heavenly. The only thing better is digging his fingers into your plush ass when you’re both about to cum. It feels so soft and warm beneath his touch that he doesn’t want to let go.
♡ Yeosang ♡
Yeosang never lets you think for one second that you were too big to get on top. He loves to grab you by those plush hips and pick you up. The perfect place to set you down is always in his lap, kissing you hungrily while you ride his cock. Your hips are so soft and full, the perfect thing to squish during sleepy morning sex when neither of you are in a rush to get anywhere and you’re riding him slowly, savoring the feeling of his length throbbing deep within your pussy. Your hips are also perfect for when he wants to get more dominant, that extra cushion letting him grab you as hard as you like while he manhandles you. With his hands controlling your hips every move you make is under his control. He can keep you right where he wants you, pounding his cock harder and deeper into a pussy that’s just so dripping and needy that he can’t stop. Afterwards he’ll always massage your hips, still keeping a hold on them as you come down from your high, your soft body cuddled up to his.
♡ Jongho ♡
Jongho pretends that he doesn’t like to cuddle but you know better than anyone else what a lie that is. His favorite thing to do is to lay in bed with his arms wrapped around your curvy figure and his head resting on your pillowy breasts. On rare occasions it’s enough to put him to sleep but those occasions are very rare. More often than not he finds himself trailing kisses across your cleavage, his bulge rubbing against your leg as his tongue dips between your breasts, tickling the sensitive skin. It gets him even harder when you aren’t wearing a bra and he can freely take handfuls of your breasts, rolling your stiff buds between his fingertips while hushed moans dance from your lips. He kisses them through your clothes at first, teasing your nipples through your thin shirt until the material’s damp. The second your shirt’s pushed up, your breasts bouncing free, his lips are wrapped around your buds, licking and sucking them to the point that your panties are drenched and you’re silently begging him to fuck you.
♡ Yunho ♡
Yunho doesn’t care what you call them. Love handles, rolls, whatever. Call them what you like as long as you remember that he’s such a sucker for them. There’s no need for shapewear or only putting on clothes that hide them. Yunho wants them on full display. In fact, it’s best when you’re in nothing but a bra or completely naked so that his large hands can spend all the time they want exploring your body, worshiping your love handles with his touch so that you feel just how sexy he finds them. It’s so hot for him when you’re laying side by side, one of your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock inching into you as his hands ride up and down your form. This way he can grip your sides tighter, tilting you back to drill into your sweet spot at the perfect angle. Or he can wrap his arms around you completely, keeping you so close to him that he can feel every single detail of your pussy as you clench him so tightly, your juices leaking down his cock, making a total mess of the both of you.
♡ Wooyoung ♡
Wooyoung is feral for your thighs. It’s especially bad when the two of you are at home and you decide to walk around in nothing but your panties, your delicious thighs on full display just ready to be praised. He’s on you in no time, pinning you down on the bed or the couch to kiss and nibble on them until he hears you letting out those cute little giggles that he loves so much. It never stops there though. The kisses always deepen until his tongue’s running along your smooth skin, leaving hickeys behind as he suckles at your tender flesh. Before you know it his fingers have found their way between your thighs, tugging your soaked panties to the side to play with your plump clit, his tongue at the ready to lap at your juices. He’ll spend as long as he can like this, his tongue buried inside of you, your thighs wrapped around his neck, eating you out until you’re gushing all over. Once you're spent, he takes the initiative to clean you up. Every single time it’s with his tongue and he won’t stop until he’s tasted every bit of you.
♡ Mingi ♡
Mingi has such a thing for your belly that it’s not even funny. It’s better than any plushie in the world when it comes to comforting him when he’s stressed or just giving him something nice to cozy up to. This man will take every opportunity available to squish your belly and is super vocal with you about how much he adores it. It doesn’t matter to him if you gain a little weight, that only means that your belly will be even softer to touch and kiss in whichever position he chooses. Mingi’s always had his kinks but being with you has led to the discovery of a new one. After you’ve cum—and he always makes sure you cum first—he likes to rub the leaky tip of his cock through your slick folds, arousal dripping down your perky clit as he strokes his cock over top of you. His eyes are glued to your twitchy little pussy, your belly just bouncing against the head. Once he’s right at the edge he likes to move up to your belly, tapping his cock against it to watch it jiggle so beautifully as hot, white ropes of his seed spill all over you.
#ateez x reader#ateez x you#ateez x chubby reader#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez hard thoughts#chubby reader#plus size reader#hongjoong smut#seonghwa smut#mingi smut#yunho smut#jongho smut#yeosang smut
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Endless Adoration
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❝ Mingyu has been irrevocably in love with you since he was in high school. He decides to keep this a secret until he can move on since you’ve only ever seen him as your best friend’s brother. However, his plan goes awry when you ask him to take your virginity and teach you about sex—as a friend, of course. ❞
PAIRING: kim mingyu x female reader
GENRE: best friends brother au, friends with benefits au, fluff, smut
WORD COUNT: 7.2k
WARNINGS: bestie’s brother!mingyu, virgin!reader, secret pining, suppressed feelings, discourse of how to pronounce caramel, mingyu is the textbook definition of down bad, loss of virginity, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, mirror sex, riding, squirting, multiple creampies, cum eating
A/N: this fic is my contribution to the fall season and part of the fall-ing for you collab! hope you all enjoy! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
It’s no secret that Mingyu is an affectionate man.
Acts of service and giving out his affection is his love language, and everyone knows it. Which is why no one really questions his behavior toward you. If he laughs a little too hard at something you said or always comes to your defense even when you’re wrong, it’s not really suspicious because he’s just a kind and gentle guy.
His little sister, however, does not see it that way.
Minseo knows her brother, and while he may be a walking green flag and a gentleman among beasts, he’s not that nice. Vernon argues that it’s only because you two are best friends that Mingyu treats you just a bit better than anyone else. It’s a viable argument, yet the little telltale signs point to Mingyu’s actions being more than common curtesy.
Like now as you’re arguing with Seungkwan during game night about the correct pronunciation of your favorite candy.
“It’s caramel.”
You scoff, eyebrows furrowed defiantly as you glare at Seungkwan. “No. It’s caramel.”
Vernon and Seokmin watch the exchange with amused smiles while Minseo watches her brother. He wears a similar expression, except there’s a subtle emotion in his eyes as he’s looking at you. It’s been there since you slapped down your last two Uno cards in repulsed shock when Seungkwan mispronounced caramel.
Ten minutes later, neither of you are willing to concede to the other and Mingyu still looks like a lovesick puppy.
“In what world is it caramel?” Seungkwan screeches, rising up from his spot on the couch.
“Mingyu.” You call suddenly. “Is it caramel or caramel?”
Two pair of heated eyes look over to him pointedly. The room goes silent as everyone waits for the answer that will possibly get you two to stop arguing. Minseo watches her brother carefully as he puts down his nearly empty beer bottle. The move seems casual, but she knows he does it to distract himself from the fact that you’re practically saying take my side.
“It’s caramel.”
“Ha!” You yell in victory, pointing a smug finger at a sulking Seungkwan. “I told you!”
Your friend’s pout is bitter. “That’s not fair! You only asked Mingyu because you know he’s going to agree with you no matter what!”
It’s true, and the rest of your giggling friends know it. Minseo doesn’t miss her brother’s bashful smile, and it makes her realize that there might actually be something deeper than just a crush. So she waits until all the guests leave to confront her brother about his not-so-subtle behavior.
“Is there something going on with you and Y/N?”
Now, her brother is naturally clumsy and pretty terrible at hiding his feelings, but Minseo didn’t expect him to drop all the board games he was carrying. He scrambles to pick up all the scattered pieces, pointedly looking at the ground and not up at her with a pout like he would’ve usually done.
“I—” He coughs awkwardly as he haphazardly shoves random pieces into the wrong boxes. “What are you talking about?”
It’s almost insulting that he thinks he can hide the truth from her. “I mean that I already know everything. So quit playing, and tell me how long this has been going on.”
Mingyu’s broad shoulders slump in defeat. He should’ve known that Minseo would find out (she had a knack for finding out everything), but he honestly didn’t expect her to find out this soon.
“Fine.” His tone is resigned as he puts the precariously stacked board games on the coffee table. “It’s true that I took Y/N’s virginity, but I swear that I only did it because she asked—”
“You what?”
His sister’s sharp tone makes him pause. Minseo’s mouth is dropped open and her eyes are almost popping out of her head. Belatedly, Mingyu realizes that his little sister is not referring to the favor you had asked him to do weeks ago. An uncomfortable chill goes down his spine.
Fuck.
You were going to kill him.
It’s not Mingyu’s fault.
When you came to him and asked him to teach you how to have sex, he was rendered powerless to your pretty eyes that shined with so much trust. He knows it’s wrong for him to take his little sister’s best friend’s virginity, but ever since you were kids, he’s never been able to tell you no. Years later, nothing has changed.
“Spread them wider, baby.” His voice rasps as his hands go to pry your thighs apart until he’s left with the sight of your glistening cunt.
Mingyu’s cock twitches at the sight of your pretty pussy. Fuck. You’re dripping in your own arousal, and all he’s done is kiss you and mark up a few places on your body. And yet, there’s already a messy web of arousal covering your puffy lips. His groan is deep and almost animalistic when he sees your pretty cunt clenching with need.
Minseo be damned, he was going to absolutely ruin you.
You mewl softly when Mingyu presses his middle and index fingers against your cunt to spread your lips apart. The heat from his fingers feels different from when you touch yourself. It feels so much better, and you have to bite your lip to stop the moans and whimpers from escaping like they want.
Your best friend’s brother has always been unfairly attractive, but he’s never looked hotter to you than he does now, licking his pink lips while looking at your pussy.
Mingyu glances up at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve really never done this before?”
The beefy puppy between your legs thinks he might actually come untouched when you pout at him. That exact look is what got him into this situation in the first place. Your adorable pout always brought him to his knees.
“Gyu.” You whine, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t tease me.”
He loves when you call him that, and it takes everything in him to hold himself back from shoving his cock inside you and fucking you roughly like he wants. That would have to be for another time.
“I’m not, baby.” He assures you before he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “I just need to know how far I should take this.”
The frown you give him is oddly determined. “You said you’d teach me everything.”
Fuck.
Mingyu wonders if you actually know what you’re asking for, but then he has to remind himself that you’re only inexperienced, not stupid. You came to him because you trust him, and he wouldn’t ever betray that trust. If you happened to be uncomfortable with anything, he would stop right away. Though, it seems like you have no intentions of telling him to stop.
The soft moan you let out when Mingyu starts to gently toy with your dripping slit is like music to his ears. He thinks you can’t get any hotter, but then you buck your aching cunt into his hand as if to say get on with it. Ever powerless to your desires, Mingyu slips two fingers past your folds. He curls them experimentally, feeling your warm, wet cunt stretch around his long fingers. Just as he thought. Virgin tight.
“Fuck.” His growl is deep and has you clenching down on his fingers. “I need to taste you.”
Arousal is clouding your mind and making you feel drunk. The way Mingyu is looking at you like you’re the thing he’s wanted the most in the world has you gushing all over his fingers. His hot mouth latches on to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. You cry out loudly as his fingers slowly start to fuck your hole, stretching you out to prepare you for his cock.
“Gyu!” You cry out as you arch you back, grinding your cunt into his face in search of release.
Your moans become broken when he forces his tongue into the tightness of your pussy. The groans he lets out makes you release more juices into his awaiting mouth. It’s almost embarrassing the way his room is suddenly full of the wet squelching sounds coming from your cunt, but you feel too good to actually care.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Mingyu groans into your sopping cunt. “You have the sweetest little cunt.”
All you can focus on is the way his tongue is fucking into you with a force that has you seeing stars. He runs his soft tongue along your aching folds skillfully until all you can do is cry out for him. Mingyu smirks into your folds, fingers slowly massaging deep inside you. The wanton cries you’re letting out make him scissor his fingers so you’ll be prepped enough to take his cock.
When you look down and see Mingyu’s pretty eyes looking up at you with unadulterated desire, the coil building in your stomach abruptly snaps. Mingyu moans along with you as you come all over his face. His cock twitches against the sheets when you keep rocking your hips to grind your cunt into his mouth. With a low groan, he keeps going, using his tongue to fuck you through your orgasm.
You’re a panting mess by the time he pulls away. His chin is covered in your release, and you briefly wonder how someone can be so fucking attractive. Mingyu licks his lips before he smashes them on yours. The taste of your own release makes you moan into his mouth, loving how his lips feel against yours.
You chase his lips when he suddenly pulls away. It’s almost cruel of him to laugh when you whine petulantly after he doesn’t give you what you want. But you can’t truly be mad. Not when it concerns Mingyu.
“Are you ready?”
Your attention is quickly drawn to his throbbing cock. He can’t deny the pleasure it gives him to see you gaping at it. It makes Mingyu think about the face you’ll make when he’s splitting you open.
“It’s...” Huge. You swallow nervously. “Will it fit?”
You can’t take your eyes off his monstrous dick. He’s stroking himself slowly, smearing the precum dribbling from his fat tip all over his veiny length. You can only watch in fascination like you’re in a trance, pussy clenching in desire. The only dicks you’ve ever seen are the ones from porn, but even those don’t compare to how thick and pretty Mingyu’s looks.
“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Mingyu licks his lips, mind clouded with a lustful haze. “I’ll make it fit.”
The face you make when he uses your arousal to get his dick wet nearly makes him come right then and there. After years of fucking his fist to the thought of you, he finally has you underneath him looking more irresistible than ever.
“Ready, baby?” The pet name continues to fall from his lips so easily, and it’s making you unreasonably more horny than you already are. “Remember you can tell me to stop anytime.”
“Okay.” You breathe out in anticipation. Instead of being nervous, you’re just eager, and you know it’s because you’re doing this with Mingyu who actually cares about you.
Mingyu shudders in pleasure as he slowly sinks his leaking tip into your tight pussy. Your warm and wet and already gripping him so tightly that he wonders if he’ll come once he gets the rest of cock inside you. The choked gasp of pleasure you let out makes him throb with pride and arousal. Your pretty mouth is dropped open in a silent moan, and he has to swoop down to give you a sweet kiss.
You whimper into his mouth, starting to feel the stretch burn as he continues to slide in deeper. Mingyu pulls away to place tender kisses along your jaw, whispering into your heated skin about how good you’re taking him. A soft moan is pulled from your throat when he rubs gentle circles on your clit. It eases the sting, and soon enough pleasure cancels out the pain.
“G-Gyu.” You mewl as he finally bottoms out, heavy balls resting against your ass. “Fuck. Your cock is so big.”
Your fucked out whine makes his dick throb. Mingyu only offers you a shy chuckle, thumb still working your sensitive clit. Your hot cunt is pulsing and gripping him so tightly that he knows the slightest movement will have him busting inside you. And while that’s one thing he’s dreamed of for a long time, this was about your pleasure not his.
“Like it?” His voice is seductive and not teasing at all which just turns you on more. “Tell me, pretty girl. Let me hear you.”
His hips shift, and it makes his cock curve into your sweet spot that makes you arch your back. The moan you let out is louder this time, hips bucking in need. Your arousal is drenching his cock and spilling down to coat his heavy sack.
“Feels so fucking good, Gyu! Please move!” You whimper desperately as you wrap your legs around his waist.
Mingyu moans into your skin, hips moving upon your command. He starts to thrust in and out of your hot cunt with precise yet slow movements. His hands trail up to your bouncing tits, gently caressing and rubbing your hardened nipples. You moan again, turned on by how tenderly he’s touching you.
“Told you we’d make it fit, pretty.” His grin is so attractive that it makes you tighten impossibly and stain his cock with more cream.
Mingyu’s hips start to snap a little more desperately now. His cock seems to swell when he looks down to see how tightly you’re gripping him. Strings of arousal cling to your skin and his as he continues to stretch out your tight little cunt. His heavy balls slap against your ass as you continue to moan in pleasure.
“You’re dripping all over me, babe.” He grunts, feeling like he’s in heaven. “Am I making you feel that good?”
Just like outside the bedroom, Mingyu likes to be praised. Your heart swells with fondness, unable to believe how cute he can be even as he’s splitting you open on his cock. It makes you want to oblige him all the more.
“So fucking good, Gyu.” You moan wantonly as his cock continues to spear into you.
You’re sensitive, mewling and whining in pleasure as he snaps his hips at the perfect speed and intensity. Mingyu lets out a deep groan when your thighs start to quiver. Your eyes are rolling back as his cock keeps slamming against your sweet spot, and he’s enjoying every second of it.
“God, you’re pretty.” Mingyu moans as you squeeze his cock tighter. “Prettiest little thing ever.”
Your entire body heats up, and you can’t help but pull him down for a passionate kiss. Mingyu moans into your mouth. His soft lips move against yours with a need that makes you ravenous. You start to meet his thrusts, eager for more of him.
The sound of wet skin slapping fills the room, and you don’t ever want it to end. Mingyu’s mouth, hands, and cock are too addicting for you to ever want anything else. With the way his throbbing dick keeps fucking into you desperately, you’re pretty sure the feeling is mutual.
When he reluctantly pulls away from your sweet lips, he trails wet kisses down to your neck. You moan out his name when you feel him start to mark you up. The ache in his cock grows when he feels your nails dig into his shoulders. Your sensual moans of his name sounds like music to his ears, and he knows he’ll be fucking his hand to the memory often.
Your orgasm is close, the coil in the pit on your stomach on the verge of snapping. All it takes is for his long fingers to smooth over your wet clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud for you to come undone. Your back arches off the mattress as you gush all over his cock with a loud cry of Mingyu’s name.
The erotic and breathtaking sight of you coming on his cock is something that leaves him breathless. It’s all Mingyu needs for his own orgasm to rip through him. He stills with a low groan of your name. You can feel his cock pulsate inside you as he shoots thick ropes of cum into your pussy. The two of you are moaning and whimpering as your walls spasm around his aching cock.
“That’s it, baby.” Mingyu moans as he rolls his hips to fuck you through both your highs.
You’re whimpering in pleasure, milking him for every last drop of cum he has. The way he fucks it back into you makes you feel delirious with pleasure, and your cunt gets tighter with need at the thought of doing it all over again.
Mingyu holds you close as you both pant—spent and satisfied. He gently coos at you, sweetly caressing your face as he keeps his cum plugged inside you with his still-throbbing cock.
“How was it, baby?” He wonders, big puppy dog eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You wrap your arms around his muscular back, bringing a hand up to gently play with his hair. The gentle hum you let out eases his worries. “You were amazing.”
The smile he gives you is bright and makes your chest jerk with affection. Mingyu gently caresses your body, telling you how good you were for him. It makes you burn for him all over again.
Before you can convince him to fuck you again, he gets up and goes into the bathroom. You watch curiously as he brings back a wet towel. It’s warm against your skin as he starts to clean you up. The act is somehow more intimate than him stuffing you full of cum, but you don’t hate it.
Once he’s done, he gets back into bed with you. It takes you by surprise when he pulls you on top of him. Mingyu caresses your naked back, basking in the feeling of your weight on him. His heart jumps when he feels you start to trace small patterns on his chest.
“Can we do that again?” Your voice is coy, and he really fucking loves it.
“Yes.” He promises. “I’ll order some takeout for us first then we can do it again. Unless you want to do it now.”
You stay silent for a moment before nuzzling your face his sculpted chest. With your eyes closed, you let out a content sigh. “Let’s just stay like this for a little while.”
Mingyu caresses your head with a love stricken smile you can’t see. “Okay.”
In retrospect, Minseo should’ve realized it sooner.
The signs were there—have always been there, apparently. It’s almost embarrassing that it took her so long to realize something was going on. Especially when she thinks back to the annual camping trip that took place a week ago.
It started off like all the other trips, except Mingyu insisted that you drive with him since he wouldn’t subject you to being a third wheel to his sister and Vernon. This was only the start of Mingyu’s unwarranted clinginess toward you. Minseo didn’t think too much of it because no one liked being the third wheel, and her brother always has a way of guilt tripping like no one’s business.
The campground looks beautiful covered in hues of red and yellow. Mingyu has brought along his camera and is already taking pictures and candids of everyone setting up their space. He especially captures some of you taking in the beautiful autumn scenery. You always looked so pretty when you had a look of awe and wonder on your face.
“I didn’t see you taking that many pictures of me.” Seungcheol teases as he peeks at the camera screen Mingyu is smiling fondly at.
His friend’s neck burns, and before he can think to say anything back, your voice grabs his attention. Seungcheol snickers quietly. It’s this simple action that Minseo’s attention again.
“Gyu.” You whine, holding up the tent you brought in frustration. “Help me.”
Her helpful brother goes over to you immediately like a puppy being called by its owner. Minseo should’ve thought more about the way he hands over his prized possession to Seungcheol like it’s nothing. The smitten smile he directs at you doesn’t seem that way to her in the moment, but again—hindsight.
Mingyu’s tone is playful as he asks you what you need. You don’t answer him because in the next second he tells you to follow the instructions in spite of the fact that he’s already starting to put the sticks together to actually lift the tent off the ground. Mingyu goes on to say that you should’ve gotten a smaller, one-person tent instead of a large dome tent big enough to fit five people inside.
“The guy at the store told me it would be easy to set up!” You whine with a frown. “And it’s not my fault the instructions are impossible to understand.”
Mingyu’s laughter is full of affection and adoration. He shakes his head fondly as he continues to build your tent for you. “You need to learn how to do these sorts of things.”
“Why? That’s why I have you.”
Once again, she should’ve thought more about the bashful look on Mingyu’s face and the way his ears and neck turned red. Instead, she chose to make sure that Vernon was setting up their own tent correctly because she had also bought one very similar to yours.
By the time everyone has their tents set up, the sun is starting to set. Mingyu helps Seungcheol start the fire while everyone else helps prepare the snacks and drinks.
The vibe is peaceful as you all settle around the fire. Mingyu claims the spot next to you, and you’re all too happy to have him by your side. It goes unnoticed, but now the image is clear in Minseo’s memories.
“Here.”
You look over to see Mingyu handing you a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow at the end of it. Maybe it’s the way the setting sun hits face or maybe it’s the fact that he was careful not to burn the marshmallow since you didn't like that. Either way your chest throbs with something you’re sure is not appropriate to feel for your best friend’s brother.
“Thanks, Gyu.” You smile at him before you start making your s’mores.
The night progresses like this, with Mingyu roasting your marshmallows and you happily making the s’mores. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s right to keep doing this with him. He’s so sweet and attentive that sometimes this line you’ve drawn gets blurry. The worst part is that you don’t mind if that line isn’t clear because being with Mingyu is like having a cup of hot cocoa when it’s cold—comforting and appealing.
For now, you decide to enjoy the moment. Evaluating feelings and this deep affection you feel would have to wait.
Fall has always been a special time for Mingyu. The leaves always change to beautiful red and golden colors, the weather turns the kind of crisp that’s invigorating, and it’s a time when family gets together. And possibly the most important reason: it’s the season when he met you.
He was only nine years old when you two met. It was a random autumn day meant to uphold the lifetime tradition of his parents taking him and Minseo to the pumpkin patch. Picking out pumpkins was something he looked forward to all year because it was a time where his entire family was together.
Mingyu vividly remembers being caught by surprise when his sister brought along an unexpected guest. She was holding the hand of a girl with a solemn expression that was a great contrast to her own bright one. Minseo cheerfully introduced the unknown girl as her best friend. You had offered him a barley-there wave that had him wondering how his sunshine of a sister could possibly like someone so closed off.
It was a misconception on his part because on the car ride to the pumpkin patch, he realizes his sister couldn’t have found a better friend. Minseo talks possibly more than he does, but you listened to every word attentively, like actually listen. Also, you offered her (and Mingyu after some shy contemplation) the snacks in your bag.
Your overly cautious attitude reminded Mingyu of his cousin’s unfriendly cat. Trying to get you to open up was a challenge, but you slowly started to warm up to him as the evening went on. He truly won you over after he offered to carry the heavy pumpkin you chose. The unsure pout you directed at him was adorable, and his heart just soared when you quietly thanked him.
“Here.” You huffed out, feeling embarrassingly shy as you stuck out your small hand.
Mingyu’s grin soothed the bashfulness. He thanked you for the candy you gave him, claiming that the caramel you put in his hand is his favorite.
Looking back on it, that was the first time you tugged on his heartstrings.
Of course, it was completely innocent back then. There was no way you could’ve known that Mingyu held on to that piece of candy for as long as he could until he forgot it in a pair of pants that his mom threw in the washer. Nor could you have known that as you two got older, it killed him just a little bit every time you referred to him as Minseo’s older brother.
These feelings don’t make sense in his mind, but it all becomes clear to him the fall of his junior year.
Just like all those years ago, you found yourself at the pumpkin patch. Except this time you don’t have either of the Kim siblings by your side. Minseo was hanging out with her almost-boyfriend and of course Mingyu hadn’t joined you two at the pumpkin patch for years now. You weren’t uncomfortable being alone, but it did feel odd picking out a pumpkin without Minseo inspecting it to make sure you picked one suited for carving.
In your lonely search, you meet Lee Chan. He too had been left alone after his friends went off with their respective partners. What you don’t realize is that your resident puppy boy is watching this kindred meeting from afar. Unbeknownst to you, Minseo had texted her older brother asking him to keep you company because she still felt sorry for leaving you alone.
At the time, Mingyu can’t explain why his chest feels strangely heavy. It feels like he can’t approach you despite knowing you wouldn’t be unhappy to see him. So he doesn’t even though it’s arguably one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Later that night, his mom helps him come to the conclusion that this icky feeling is none other than petty jealousy.
As a teenage boy who loved his little sister more than anything, this realization was devastating. It was very likely that Minseo would be upset if she ever found out her brother had a crush on her best friend. The fear of what would happen if his feelings ever came to light was the reason Mingyu decided to keep it a secret.
After all, it was just a small, harmless crush.
Unfortunately for Mingyu, this teeny tiny crush soon blossomed into something more intense that he’s not ready to acknowledge. Time goes by, and yet his feelings haven’t gone away even when he starts to date. It makes him feel icky, and most likely the reason why none of his relationships ever last.
When it’s time for him to leave for college, he thinks that maybe he can move on. Only, you never give him that chance.
“Why don’t you ever bring enough clothes?”
It might seem like Mingyu is scolding you, but he’s actually only worried that you seem to value fashion over practicality. Your heart jumps when he takes off the scarf he’s wearing to put it around you, making sure it covers your neck and looks pretty with the outfit you’ve chosen. He doesn’t seem to notice that your eyes shine with endearment as he adjusts it to cover your mouth.
“Come on.” He absentmindedly grabs your hand, not realizing his touch is making your heart pound. “The cafe is only open for another hour.”
Mingyu had insisted that this new cafe had drinks to die for. So he waited until you got off work to go with you together. You’re glad his scarf covers the lower half of your face because you’re sure every single emotion you feel for him would be very obvious as he hands you a warm cup.
Walking in silence with Mingyu isn’t ever uncomfortable, but it does leave you to contemplate how you’re going to confess to him. He’s been nothing but sweet to you, and you hope he won’t be upset at your sudden feelings since you’re the one who insisted the sex between you two would be strictly platonic.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
It kills you that Mingyu can look so pretty while he’s tilting his head at you curiously. You let out a nervous breath. It was now or never.
“You told Minseo you took my virginity.”
The air goes still, and you feel like smacking yourself because that’s not at all what you were planning to say—not like that, anyway. Mingyu’s eyes practically pop out of his head as he feels a blush crawl up his neck and suffuse throughout his face. You don’t seem angry, but he can’t really tell with his scarf covering your face.
“I’m sorry!” He rushes. “I didn’t mean to, but—”
“I’m not mad.” You assure him with a laugh.
“You’re not?”
“No.” You let out a fond laugh. “And Minseo isn’t either.”
Before Mingyu can fully process your words, you crush him with a hug. His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and press himself closer to you.
“I like you, Mingyu.” You confess, feeling like your heart is on the verge of exploding. “I like you so much.”
He stills in your arms. Slowly, he pulls away to look at your face. His expression is one of pure shock, and before you can brace yourself for any kind of rejection, Mingyu is kissing you.
The movements of his soft lips are needy and full of undeniable want. You moan into his mouth, returning his kiss with just as much vigor. It all feels like a wonderful dream, especially when you whisper against his lips that you want to go back to your place.
If this is a dream, Mingyu wishes it could go on forever.
Having you kneeled between his parted thighs, worshipping his cock in the exact way he’s shown you how has him coming apart quickly. You’re slobbering all over him, saliva slipping down the sides of his dick to lubricate him.
“Fuck, Gyu. You have the prettiest cock ever.” You gush, entire body hot with arousal and want.
The way he actually blushes as you praise him has your cunt dripping with more juices. You can’t wait to wreck him and have him writhing in pleasure. His cock is throbbing as you continue to lick and stroke him with your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his leaking tip, licking into the slit which causes him to let out a guttural groan. The moans you let out run through the length of his dick in the most pleasurable way.
Mingyu feels completely fucked out at this point. He can’t believe how good you’ve gotten at sucking his cock. And now, he’s going to be the only man to experience what that pretty little mouth can do.
“Y/N, fuck.” He cries out as his orgasm abruptly hits.
As always, Mingyu looks absolutely breathtaking when he comes. His mouth is dropped open as a pretty blush covers his entire face. Dark eyes are unfocused and dazed as he keeps releasing thick ropes of cum into your mouth. The way you keep pumping and sucking him to squeeze more cum out of him is starting to make him tremble.
You pull off his cock with a satisfied grin. Mingyu’s chest is heaving as you go to straddle him.
“Wait!” He pants out, slowly coming out of his euphoric bliss. “It’s your turn—”
“I want you to fuck me now.”
Mingyu groans when he feels your creamy folds slide over his twitching cock. “But I really want to taste you.”
He’s so cute, you think as your cunt leaks with arousal. You hum in pleasure as you rub your aching cunt over the length of his dick. His fat tip is enveloped between your warm lips every time you grind forward while his heavy sack is slowly getting soaked with your arousal.
“Tell you what, puppy. After you fill me up with your cum I’ll let you eat it out of me, okay?”
You feel his cock throb at your words as your cream covers him entirely. Mingyu nods cutely, and that’s all you need to grab his pulsing cock. He’s hot and heavy in your hand as you tease him by circling his tip against your slick entrance.
Mingyu moans loudly when you sink down. A choked whimper is forced out of him as you take him entirely, puffy lips brushing against his pelvis. His thick veins drag against your hot walls deliciously until his heavy balls are flush against your ass. It’s like all the air is being shoved out of your body to make room for his cock.
“God, Y/N. I need you to move. Please.”
You slowly grind on his cock, juices dripping down to his big balls and making a mess all over him. It’s probably really hard for him not to fuck his cock up into you, and it really turns you on that he’s trying so hard. You can tell he’s on the verge of breaking. Literally you can feel it. His cock keeps throbbing inside you like it’s on the verge of exploding.
“Show me what I’ve taught you, baby.” His voice is sultry and tempting—something you can’t say no to.
Immediately, you start to gyrate your hips. You two moan in sync as your pussy clenches tightly on his cock. Mingyu sucks on his bottom lip, completely beginning to lose his composure. His hands go to your waist, slowly guiding you as his imploring eyes gaze up at you with unmatched desire.
“Fuck, Gyu!” You cry out. “You’re so deep!”
The sound of your pleased cry, Mingyu starts to move his hips to thrust up into you. He groans lowly because it feels like his aching cock is hitting the hilt of your sopping pussy. Your soft hands smooth over his naked torso, crying out his name as you feel every inch of his muscular chest.
“Mmmh, pretty girl.” Mingyu hums in pleasure as his big hands smooth down your body to grab your ass. “Fucking my cock just right. Feels so fucking good.”
When he starts to kiss and suck on your neck as his cock spears into you, the coil in your stomach snaps. You moan his name loudly as you come all over his dick. Loud squelching fills the room as he continues to bounce you on his lap. His thickness is stretching you deliciously, the unmistakable sound of his heavy balls smacking against your ass mixing in with your moans of pleasure.
Mingyu fucks into you a few more times before you feel his hot, thick cum spurt inside you. His euphoric moan is as pretty as ever, and you can’t help but move your hips to fuck him through his high.
You sag against him, and it’s silent for a moment until you bring your lips to his ear. “I want more of your cum, puppy.”
That’s how you find yourself on your side with Mingyu behind you. Your back is pressed against his beefy chest as he lifts your leg up to expose your soiled cunt to the cool air. He nuzzled his nose into your neck before he trails it up to your cheek. Your body shivers as his arm breath fans against your ear.
“Watch how your pretty pussy stretches open for me.”
You wonder what he means until his other hand lifts up your chin delicately to look at the full body mirror he bought for you a week ago after you told Minseo you wanted it. His fat cock is teasing your entrance, and the filthy sight makes your cunt flutter in need.
Without a word of warning, Mingyu thrusts his thick dick inside you, heavy sack flush against your creamy cunt. You whine out in pleasure, feeling completely full and stuffed to the brim. It’s impossible to look away from the mirror because you can see how tightly your pussy is gripping him.
Mingyu’s cock throbs inside you as his skin tingles with desire. He starts to thrust slowly. The lewd wet sound coming from your cunt is erotic as it fills your room. You moan again when the hand that isn’t spreading you open comes up to play with one of your tits. The sensations of his cock hitting your sweet spot while his fingers pinch and pull on your erect nipple have you close again.
If you weren’t so drunk on the pleasure Mingyu’s throbbing cock is providing you with, you’d tell him to let you record because the sight of him doing you like this is one you want to remember forever. His thrusts start to pick up as your moans get louder. He’s groaning into your ear as his fat tip slams against your cervix.
Mingyu pounding into you while in this positions feels like he’s tearing your pretty little pussy apart. He messily kisses your jaw as start to tremble in his hold, grunting when you tighten around him once again like you’re trying to milk him.
“You look so pretty like this, baby.” Mingyu’s moan is low, but you hear it perfectly. “Sweet little pussy was made to take my cock.”
Your eyes roll back as you whimper out a nearly incoherent agreement. So lost in pleasure, you don’t realize your second orgasm is one thrust away.
“Mingyu!” You moan as your orgasm hits.
Juices spurt out obscenely and cover his entire cock and the sheets bellow you. Mingyu groans as he holds your legs wide open. He keeps fucking your messy cunt as you squirt all over him. All you can make out in your euphoric haze is Mingyu calling you pretty while his twitching cock keeps ramming deep into you.
“Fill me up.” You manage to mewl out as you turn your head to give him a sloppy kiss.
Mingyu moans into your mouth, thrusting into you deeply before he stills. He forces his tongue into your mouth as he floods your sloppy cunt with his cum. You swallow each others moans as he stuffs you full to the point where you can feel it leak out of you. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside you is one of your favorite feelings which is why you’re eager to feel it at least one more time.
It’s why Mingyu is quick to put you into a different position, your legs pressed into your chest as he rams his aching cock inside you once again. Your fucked out eyes are the prettiest, and he knows that he’ll never get tired of that stare. He loves how your gaze never loses the affection you feel for him. It makes him feel like you’ll never leave him.
“You feel so good, Gyu.” You whimper as his big cock spears into you.
Mingyu roughly pounds into your ruined cunt, not holding back since he’s determined to fill you up one last time. His cock throbs as your mouth drops open in a silent scream. Your pretty mewls and whines mix in perfectly with the sound of skin slapping. It only makes him fuck you harder.
His dick forces out an obscene amount of juices from your fluttering pussy. Mingyu is so deep that it almost feels like he’s in your guts. You always feel so full when he fucks you like this, and all you can feel is bolts of euphoria dancing across your skin.
“Come for me, pretty.” Mingyu urges sweetly as he hooks your legs over his shoulders. “Come all over my cock and cover me with your sweet cream.”
Somehow he feel just as deep from this angle. He keeps railing your tight cunt, splitting you open to fully claim you as his. Your senses go into overdrive when he slips his fingers down to your puffy clit to rub gentle circles. At this point you’re trembling beneath him, all thoughts gone as he thrust harder and deeper inside you.
Mingyu’s eyes are locked on the way your tight pussy swallows his thick cock. The way your cream covers him completely make him more ravenous. He’s hitting your spongy spot with mastered precision, and it only takes a few more thrusts for the coil in your stomach to snap.
Your moan is pornographic as your walls contract and your juices squirt out everywhere. Mingyu’s pace doesn’t falter as you cover him with your orgasm. He groans loudly, loving how you can only seem to chant his name.
“God, you look pretty when you come on my cock. So pretty. Every. Fucking. Time.” His words break off into a guttural groan that bounces off of the walls.
Hot streams of his seed flood your insides, stuffing you full until the white pours out from around the thickness of his cock. Mingyu slowly releases your legs and goes to give you a passionate kiss. His hips move slowly as he fucks his cum back into you. With one last peck he pulls away and slowly eases his cock out of your messy pussy.
You moan again when he suddenly starts to lap up the mess between your legs. You’re too fucked out to stop him. That, and you did say he could eat his cum out of your pussy after you were done (plus it just feels so fucking good). He licks and sucks on your clit until there’s nothing left to lap up.
When he crawls back up your body, your insides clench at the erotic sight of him licking his lips. “So fucking sweet.”
You pull him down for another kiss. The taste of you two mixed together is so filthy yet so addicting that you have to lick every inch of his mouth. Mingyu pulls you flush against him as he continues to kiss you like he never wants to breath again.
Minutes later, you two are still in your bed, cuddling and unwilling to separate from each other.
“This feels like a dream.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.
You hum, running your finger tips along his biceps. “It’s not a dream. I really do adore you, Kim Mingyu.”
He buries his face in your neck, mumbling into your heated skin that the adoration he has for you is endless.
taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors
#mingyu smut#svt smut#svthub#svthub.collab#kim mingyu smut#seventeen smut#mingyu x reader#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x you#mingyu fic#svt fic#kim mingyu x reader#mingyu x you
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hiii 😭 I REALLY LOVE UR GOJO X YN SO MUCHHH 😔😔 I was also wondering like maybe what if y/n has a wound, like any where 🥲 it could be either on her back, arms, legs but she doesn't wanna tell gojo abt it and she hides it, then he will find out about it either she winces when gojo hugs her, starts wearing long sleeved clothes or her shirt lifts up while sleeping 🤧 TYSMM❤❤
strain — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: I am honored that you like my works, love! hope you enjoy this as well 🫶💕🫶 also happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend: gojo satoru!! (it’s still his birthday in my country so hush I am not late)
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you are more than a capable sorcerer. in fact, you are one of the strongest in the field.
however, like anyone else, there are some moments where things get a little out of hand, and you come back bearing a rather long slash on your left arm.
but since it’s pretty late, you decided you will bother shoko about it in the morning. that is how you’re finally in your home, with satoru nowhere to be found.
you frown lightly at the fact that he is still out there fighting curses, but a part of you feels relieved that you don’t have to explain your situation right now.
the night should pass by smoothly, and you will go to shoko tomorrow: a fool-proof plan!
so you do what you can to sanitize the wound, and cover it until you can get it treated properly. you also take the chance to indulge in your favorite snack as a good job treat.
after finishing your food and tidying up for the day, you’re finally in bed, all-cozied up and avoiding anything touching your wound as much as possible.
a deep breathe in, a deep breathe out, and you slowly drift to sleep.
not much time passes before satoru’s familiar footsteps echo throughout the house.
your husband has an abundance of energy.
but it seemed like today’s missions have drained him a bit more than normal, so he skips eating anything and heads straight to your shared bedroom.
his heart softens, and his muscles relax upon the sight of you tucked in bed. he walks to press a small kiss on your forehead, quickly changing into his pajamas and settling right by your side.
he stretches a bit and turns to spoon you as per usual, eyes closing in contentment.
but you wince, even if adeptly, and it sends alarms ringing through his head.
he jerks up, and his hand is instantly placed on your arm again, softly. there is an ever so faint change in your expression as your eyebrows furrow, and he has never pulled his hand away so fast.
he keeps debating in his head whether to wake you up or not, but he swiftly settles for the former.
he needs to know what happened. so he, regrettably, nudges your sleepy form, “y/n?”
you groan, but, nonetheless, you reply, “…what?”
while satoru often likes to base theatrics around his every move and phrase, but he also knows when to get straight to the point, “did you get hurt on today’s mission?”
you’re no longer half-asleep, and you quickly sit up, eyeing your husband. knowing there is no escape nor denial, you fidget with your fingers and nod slowly.
then you hurriedly utter, “but I was going to see shoko first thing in the morning; I promise!”
he nods slowly, holding your hands in his own. you’re left to look him in the eyes. satoru’s eyes being exposed makes him feel so vulnerable, or at least that’s how he is with you.
you can see every wrinkle, and every crease; you can see what he is thinking about in real time. he has long given up hiding anything from you, and, besides, it feels fresh to just let go.
but right now, as you look into his eyes, you see them swarming with confliction, pain, and worry.
he doesn’t scold you about not going right now because he knows that you will tell him that you either thought it wasn’t a big deal or that you didn’t want to bother shoko with it.
instead, he settles on a hushed whisper of “can I see it?”
you throw him a confused look, “why? I am getting it treated tomorrow anyway,” then you smile, “it’s not going to permanent if that’s what you’re worried about.”
he shakes his head, “it’s not that; I just—“ he takes a deep breath then looks at you pleadingly, “just let me see it.”
perhaps it’s to silence his thoughts and to show him that you’re truly okay, as okay as you can be.
you’re still alive, and that’s what matters, he thinks. nevertheless, he feels the need to see just how serious is the wound anyway.
reluctantly, you slowly take off your jacket to reveal the poorly bandaged gash on your arm.
he looks up at you, asking for permission because even if he needs to see it for his own selfish reasons, he has to put you above anything and everything else.
you nod, giving the free reign to slowly take off the bandages. you can barely hold back any pained noises, but you can’t help the wincing of your body.
satoru’s frown deepens, and with every move, your husband’s heart aches. it goes like that until the wound is finally unveiled.
you feel satoru observing the cut so intently that you look away. satoru curses everything that he can think of, and never has we wanted the ability to heal others more than right now.
he straightens his back, “that’s a deep cut, y’know.”
“I know…”
“you also realize that the wound could’ve hit your chest and inevitably heart, right?”
you huff, “listen, if you’re going to give me a lecture or keep making me feel bad about it then I will have you know—“
“you could’ve died.”
you notice the strain in his voice, so you turn to finally look eyes with him. he looks pained, so hurt, maybe even terrified at the fact that there was a chance that he could’ve lost you.
your expression immediately becomes that of sympathy, “but I didn’t, and dwelling on the fact that I might’ve died will only bother you for no reason,” you hold his hand, “I am here and alive, aren’t I?”
your husband sighs, resting his head on your right shoulder, “you’re hurting my poor little heart whenever you put yourself in danger like that.”
a giggle escapes your lips, and your hands naturally find their way in his hair, fingers gently carding through, “whatever shall we do.”
“if things went my way then you would just stay home looking all pretty like you always do,” he states, and you roll your eyes.
“well, they’re going my way tonight, so—“ the clock strikes twelve, “happy birthday, silly boy.”
his eyes widen and he pulls away to look you in the face. he blinks dumbly then looks at what’s in your hands: a cupcake with a candle.
a wide grin of unbridled joy appears on your husband’s face. his eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he laughs, “I really didn’t expect it this time!”
“you outdid yourself, pretty girl,” he hums, hand caressing your cheek.
“I still have a lot more things for you,” you beam with pride. satoru can’t contain himself anymore, and he pulls you into a loving embrace.
“I love you so much,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.
you pat his back, “I love you too, ‘toru,” you laugh, “but you’re pressing on my wound, and I think I am just going to cry and not because of overwhelming love.”
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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x you#gojo imagine#gojo x reader#jjk imagines#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x y/n#jjk gojo x reader#jjk gojo x y/n#jjk gojo x you#gojo fluff#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you
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despite the hatred, despite the love
part one
azriel x reader
summary: the inner circle atends Helion's party to meet his new second in command, and while she seems to be just a beautiful girl, the hatred that Azriel feels for her and displays for everyone to see isn't bought by his brother, who will soon find out there is something more than hate between them... maybe even love.
Helion’s speech was at its end, and yet… no sight of Y/N.
Azriel shifted on his feet, scanning the party room. Cassian noticed and walked over to his brother, ready to try to break through his enigmatic demeanor—or laugh at him. Both worked for the Illyrian warrior.
“Who are you looking for, Az?” He clasped a hand on his tense shoulder, making him step forward to balance himself, both from the force of the gesture and from the disruption of the bubble he had been isolating himself in.
Azriel coughed. “No one.”
Cassian didn’t buy it—not one bit. But he knew there was no way of getting through Azriel’s thoughts unless it came willingly from him.
So he changed the subject. “Y/N. I’ve heard she’s quite the beauty.” Azriel quickly turned to face him.
“What?”Cass laughed. “If she’s being promoted to second-in-command—Helion’s second-in-command—she must be incredibly beautiful.”
“Maybe it’s not about her beauty. Maybe it’s because she’s simply good at politics,” Azriel explained plainly.
“Azriel,” Cassian snapped between chuckles. “It’s Helion we’re talking about.”
As if summoned, the High Lord of the Day Court appeared, a cocky grin on his face. “I wasn’t aware my favorite Illyrian warriors were fond of gossip.”
“We’re not,” Azriel hissed.
Helion’s smile only grew, eyeing his favorite male in the room. “Someone’s ruder than usual—it turns me on, not going to lie.”
“Is there anything that doesn’t turn you on?” Cassian inquired, making Helion finally detach his eyes from the handsome Shadowsinger.
The Lord of Bloodshed wasn’t a bad sight either. Not at all.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Helion, will you stop looking at me as if I were food? I enjoyed it some years ago, but now, let me tell you… it makes me feel a bit objectified.”
At that, Azriel finally turned his full attention to them, a faint smile playing on his amused face.
The High Lord huffed a laugh. “Well, let me tell you, Commander, I wouldn’t even notice you, had my beautiful second-in-command gifted us with her ethereal presence.”
Cassian’s eyes sought his brother’s, silently saying, I told you so.
But he didn’t find them. The Shadowsinger was looking elsewhere. Looking at someone else.
Cassian’s lips parted in surprise when he found what his brother beheld.
“Exactly,” Helion beamed, following their eyes to the girl walking down the stairs. “Y/N.”
Azriel was the most lost of them all. If anyone asked, he’d justify his piercing stare, his fixated gaze, his slightly parted lips, and the subtle tremor of his jaw as part of his skills—his excruciatingly detailed memory, trained to notice every nuance.
The way her midnight-blue dress flowed.
The graceful curve of her creamy neck, rising and falling with each breath.
Her lips parting.
Her eyes shifting—watching there, glancing here, and finally meeting his.
Azriel’s gaze locked with hers.
For a moment, it was just the two of them in the room as Y/N walked toward your High Lord, still not looking away.
“Hello, beautiful. Over here,” Helion called, making her look.
And she was back in reality. At this party. With people all around, not only Azriel.
“Hello,” Y/N smiled, moving to facilitate the kiss Helion placed on her cheek. She caught a glance of Azriel’s dangerous eyes, following every move the High Lord made.
“Congratulations, my darling,” Helion said, patting her shoulder.
She nodded in thanks, now noticing the other male around you.
“I’m Cassian,” he said. “Commander of Rhysand’s armies.” He gestured with his chin to a male talking to some people not too far away—his High Lord.
She met his eyes again. “I’m Y/N, spymast—” She cut herself off, quickly realizing. “Second-in-command of the Day Court.”
“Well, that I know,” Cassian laughed. “That’s what this party is all about.”
Flush rose on her cheeks, and she added, if only to make them forget how stupidly she was behaving, “Didn’t Helion tell you this was just another one of his excuses to have a party?”
At that, Helion placed a gentle hand on your waist, pinching.
He and Cassian laughed. Azriel didn’t, glaring at the hand now falling to Y/N's waist.
“No, he didn’t,” the spymaster cut in. “Maybe he was too busy being under the sheets with his second-in-command.”
Y/N's breath caught, and Helion stilled at the murderous tone.
Her eyes blazed with fire, piercing through the Shadowsinger. Were it not for her learned diplomacy, she might have leaped toward him without hesitation.
“Azriel,” Cassian warned—even he was surprised.
“It’s okay,” Y/N said, venom lacing her words. “He’s probably bitter I got promoted, and he has to continue killing and torturing for a living.”
Then silence. Cassian and Helion stared silently, conscious of the tension.
“Y/N!” The High Lady appeared at her side, linking elbows with her High Lord.
Saved by the bell.
Y/N's eyes still glared at the Shadowsinger as she greeted her back. Now everyone’s eyes were on the two.
“So…” Rhysand gulped, his eyes darting between Y/N and Azriel. “What have we missed?”
“Nothing new,” Helion said.
“Oh,” Cassian breathed, putting the pieces together. “So you already knew each other?”
Azriel was silent, so Y/N made herself speak. “Back from when we both were spymasters. We ran into each other often enough that we started getting to know one another.”
It didn’t go unnoticed—the long glance Y/N aimed at Azriel.
He didn’t meet your eyes, though, and she knew very well why. The guilt in his eyes told you all her needed to know.
Good—let him feel bad.
“I didn’t know,” Rhysand spoke, trying to catch an explanation through Azriel’s face. “It would’ve been useful to know…”
Y/N didn’t have to ask him to finish the sentence to read between the lines.
It would’ve been useful to know that he and Y/N knew each other so he could ask her to handle the mission instead of him.
The mission that Azriel refused to let her take part in, even though Y/N could have completed it more easily, living here as she did.
The mission that he had to complete tomorrow. The true reason why he was here today.
The mission that could get him killed.
Azriel snapped his eyes to hers, hurt and hatred—a thin line his face seemed to confuse.
Y/N sent every bit of your hurt back to him.
“You surely know by now, High Lord, that Azriel likes to keep a lot of information to himself. Sometimes I even wonder if that’s his actual name… Azriel.”
Azriel met her eyes at last, and the fire that burned in them was nothing short of scary.
Then, without a word, the spymaster turned and walked away.
Y/N watched each step he took as the others watched her in shock.
One step, another, and another.
Once she realized he truly wasn’t going to turn back to her, she started walking after him, anger becoming the force that pushed the girl forward.
Once Y/N and Azriel were both out of sight, Cassian drew a breath. “Well—that was something.”
“I’ve never seen Azriel… like this,” Feyre said.
Rhysand’s eyes were on Helion, though, trying to figure out what his knowing smile meant.
“Pray to tell, High Lord.” His tone was command enough for Helion to stare, think, and then chuckle.
“These two,” he breathed, a faint smile on his lips. “I don’t know much. Y/N doesn’t say much. But the other times I’ve seen them together… let me tell you, you never know if they’re going to kiss or kill each other.”
Feyre eyed him in confusion. “What happened between them?”
Helion shrugged his shoulders, daring a look in Cassian’s direction, smirking at him as if there was something else about it.
The general’s smirk was a full sentence in itself.
…
The night chill welcomed Cassian onto the terrace, along with the nod Helion gave him.
This way, his eyes seemed to say in the dark.
Cassian let him lead, despite the winning grin on the High Lord’s face that set him on edge.
But curiosity overthrew his pride. Azriel and that girl, Y/N… he had to know what exactly that glazed look in Azriel’s eyes meant.
While it may have seemed like hatred at first sight, Cassian knew better about that type of flame in someone’s eyes.
So here he was, silently walking to the wall where Helion had stopped, peeking to see what Cassian finally saw when he approached him.
“Hide,” Helion hissed, but the general was too lost in the scene unfolding in front of him.
Thanks to his faerie senses, Cassian could make out the conversation between his brother and…
Y/N.
“That doesn’t give you any right to insult me,” she told Azriel, and though he was turned away, Cassian could gather enough of his reaction from his dropped shoulders and wings, as if the forever-composed spymaster was about to crumble to the ground.
“I was angry.” Cassian almost didn’t recognize the faint voice that slipped past his brother’s lips. “And you… you were letting him touch you like—”
“Like what?!” Y/N yelled, taking a valiant step toward Azriel, daring him to make the killing blow.
But his brother knew better.
“I’m sorry,” was what he said instead, and Cassian let out a relieved breath—the scene felt oddly familiar to him.
Fighting with the one you loved was the fight a true warrior wasn’t prepared for, Cassian thought.
But was Y/N the one Azriel loved?
His brother had said nothing about it. Cassian had never seen them together. He had never truly heard of her… she couldn’t be. They… hated each other.
Yet—there was something in the way she looked at him. Hate, one might think.
Longing, Cassian thought.
Completely out of his mind, Cassian took a step toward them, dismissing Helion’s warning.
Careful step after step, the general approached them and only stopped when he saw it. The proof.
Y/N raised a trembling hand to Azriel’s face, angling his head delicately at her will.
Cassian had the feeling that if it were her will, Azriel would even jump off the balcony.
The general stood rigidly, watching as she slowly pulled him down—a command, a permission, and a request all at the same time.
But he quickly noticed a sneaky shadow make its way to his brother’s ear as he leaned down.
The Shadowsinger’s head turned instantly to Cassian, who watched them incredulously. Y/N turned too, her face showing pure shock, but she was looking elsewhere.
Cassian turned behind him to find, not only Helion, but also his High Lord and High Lady—watching the scene with open mouths.
Not even a heartbeat later, quick as a blink, Azriel turned to Y/N, and Cassian could have sworn a wave of understanding washed over her eyes before they pierced angrily at the the Shadowsinger.
Then she slapped him.
next part
-Charcaters by Sarah J Maas
azriel masterlist
BASED ON THIS REQUEST
a/n: i LOVE this idea so much, and i thank you, anon, for requesting it. i had trouble, yet so much fun sorting out this fic, and i am so excited to write the following parts. hope you liked it!!
#azriel x reader#azriel angst#azriel#azriel x female!reader#azriel x you#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x y/n#acotar fic#azriel fanfic#azriel fic#az imagine#azriel imagine#azriel fluff#azriel spymaster
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I have officially pushed myself into an overthinking fit about how none of my ideas are good enough. What the hell. Also, I am still working long days, and I caught something that made me feel like crap all week. What the freak. Here’s some basic crap ;-; while I recover and hopefully work eases up.
Kinky things the brothers do or just want to do
Let me know if you want a pt2 with the others.
These are my personal takes. Take em or leave em. (Jk ily pls don’t leave)
Thank you, Beyonce.
Cw: Gn!Mc, bad grammar, kinks
Part 2 ft. The Dateables, Raphael, Mephisto, and Thirteen
Lucifer
♡ Exibitionism
~ Pounding into Mc while an audience watches. Mc trying to hide their face but Lucifer holding their arms back.
~ Probably makes a lot of sex tapes with Mc. If a demon looks at Mc for even a second too long Lucifer might set that demon aside and play one of those videos. “You would never be able to make them feel like this. Pathetic for even thinking that.”
~ There isn’t a place Lucifer wouldn’t fuck Mc. If Mc is more of a shy person, he would find other ways to make sure people knew how well he treats Mc. Hickies. Marking. Vibrating toys.
~ After Mc and him hooked up the first time. It’s an addiction. He’s the type of demon to show not tell. Actions are louder than words… but not as loud as Mc. He needs them to be vocal.
Mammon
♡ Edging / Overstimulation.
~It’s both parties not just him. He’s the avatar of greed he wants everything he wants the moment to last.
~At first, he was insecure with how quickly he came but he realized it could have its benefits. The way he NEEDS more. The adrenaline. The strokes that have him close to just spilling.
~When it was Mc’s turn, he loved how red their faced turned. How desperate they are. How their hips tried to rock to be able to cum. How Mammon holds their hips down to make sure he was in full control. He was infatuated with how badly Mc wanted him.
~There’s the other side to things where overstimulation comes into play. Where he wants to make sure they are both dry. Where their bodies shake with how intense they feel.
~Mammon feels so accomplished if Mc turns into this empty-headed mess so close to finishing for a second, third, fourth, fifth, ect…
Levi
♡ Cucking
~ Now hear him out. He would love to watch Mc get pleased by other people. To see them get railed by others. It’s mental torture for him. As his pants get tight watch Mc get filled, he wishes he was the one making Mc feel that good.
~ Oh wait he can. It’s more of a warm up for Mc. When he watches someone else, please Mc he takes notes. Once the two are alone he does everything that was done but better.
~ This let’s Mc knows they could be with anyone but the only one they would truly be thinking about is him.
~ He will always make Mc tell him about how much better he is even if all Mc can do is moan. Cucking makes his insecurities vanish. No one can be good as him. He will always be there to finish the job.
Asmo
♡ Experimentalism
~ This demon has done everything under the sun but not with Mc. He wants to experience everything with Mc.
~ Everyday there’s something new.
~ Asmo would love to combine new and old things. He just loves the beauty of “If this one doesn’t work these two definitely will.
~He loves to pull Mc aside and tell them what they are doing tonight. What to bring, what to wear, what they should and shouldn’t do.
~ He loves making Mc explain their fantasy just so he can surprise them with the exact situation the same night.
Satan
♡ Bondage
~ He would love to tie Mc up and just have his way with them.
~ He always have something for Mc to be bound by. His favorite is actually a ball gag. The drool that come out of Mc’s mouth as they moan through the gag.
~ Satan always looks at new ways to restraint Mc. He doesn’t like bondage for the torture aspects. He enjoys being able to please Mc as many times as he likes. He likes being able to focus on parts of Mc intently.
~ He wants Mc as his personal fuck toy.
Beel
♡ Food play- SIKE Cunnilingus(I mean ofc)- SIKE Play fighting
~ He loves to play fight with Mc. He goes easy on them but he loves the sweat that builds up. The breathlessness that it causes.
~ Beel loves to pin Mc’s arms over their head. He admires all of their body so he can devour it once he wins. He loves all the positions he can put Mc before they even take their clothes off.
~ He loves how close he is to them. The first time he play fought with Mc. He had to hide his massive erection due to Mc moaning while fighting.
~ Sometimes he “accidentally” lifts up clothing of Mc or even his own. The more contact the better.
Belphie
♡ Starfish
~ On days Belphie feels extremely tired he would love for Mc to get on top of him and fuck him.
~ He just lays there in bed as Mc uses him. He loves to feel them bounce on his hard cock. The only active thing about him is the blood rushing towards his cock.
~ It’s surprising but he would reciprocate the exact same thing if Mc were in his position. Having someone else in control while he relaxes just feels amazing.
~ He would love to surprise Mc after a long day of classes. Them just lying down and Belphie making sure they are taken care of. Making sure they don’t move a muscle. Only the muscles that will help them cum.
#obey me#obey me lord diavolo#obey me one master to rule them all#obey me one shot#obey me swd#obey me lucifer#obey me shall we date#obey me mammon#obey me satan#obey me headcanons#obey me smut#obey me gn!mc#obey me gn!reader#obey me nightbringer#obey me fic#obey me levi x mc#obey me asmodeus#obey me beel x mc#obey me fanfic
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Better kind of best friend (part 3)
Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader
Warnings : obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n
Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn't expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends...
Moth's prophecy 💡 : Your favorite omen of doom & cringe is baaaack ! I wanted to give a special thanks to all the precious cryptids who have asked for the part three for literal weeks, always staying patient, nice, and sending messages so sweet I rot my teeth on them and made a collection of screenshots in my notes to motivate me. I never thought anyone would like my writing, let alone wait for it, so thank you. Y’all are my lights. On the subject of Better kind of best friend, a fourth part was not planned at first, but will make the ending smoother, so I’m sorry, this is not the end yet ! For those just discovering the series, you can find part one here and part two here, or in in the masterlist ! Enjoy !
“Ah per favore… Tell me you’re not dressing up like that for her.”
“Ah please, tell me you’re not giving your opinion when no one asked for it.” Chiara popped her tongue at your cold answer, and stayed in the opening of your door, clearly judging you.
You had been going through your closet for about an hour now, and the floor seemed to only disappear more and more under the layers of clothes thrown onto it carelessly. Nothing seemed good enough, partly because you had no idea what to expect for the evening, and mostly because no matter how much you refused to admit it, Chiara was right. You wanted to look pretty for someone else than yourself. For two people exactly. The thought of how quick you had thrown away all of your big principles when faced with fluttering eyelashes and pink cheeks almost made you sick.
Yet when they both got up from the table, Alex running to your arms with a smile and Charles blushing, eyeing you up and down, you thought that Chiara should just shut up once in a while. This was too good to not enjoy.
And you had promised yourself this would not be the same this time. They were your friends, they were dating, and you would keep a healthy relationship with both of them. But then Alexandra softly kissed your cheeks, and took your hand in hers. You would limit any type of confusing physical touch, and make sure to not give in to sweet pet names. But then she led you to Charles, who put his hand, much bigger and more calloused than his girlfriend’s, on your waist, and brought you closer to greet you. You would not let your fantasies take over facts, and you would keep all communication clear and honest to ensure your best friend stayed exactly that. A best friend. But then he told you you were gorgeous, and she giggled while still holding your hand, and they had your favorite drink already on the table, and suddenly you forgot everything you had told yourself in the mirror while getting ready. Surely it would come back to you if it was that important. Right ?
Back to you it came, in the form of Alex’s gorgeous friend and one of your workshop colleague, Luca. Almost falling on you as you exited the bathroom, he seemed like he had had one too many drinks already, and didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.
“Oh mais regarde toi, quelle beauté !” He grabbed at your waist and kissed your cheeks, blabbering on and on in French about your makeup and outfit. “Who are you trying to impress by looking so gorgeous, babe ?”
You chuckled and pretended he was wrong, but could not help and steal a glance. Of course you wanted to impress them, what a joke to pretend you did not care. Why for, even you had no idea, but you knew you would be satisfied as long as they kept their eyes on you. Which they had stopped doing for a while now, seeing as they were cuddled up on one of the couches, Alexandra sitting on Charles’ lap, hands in his hair, while he peppered her neck and shoulder with soft kisses. You could hear her giggles from afar, smell his shampoo, or maybe you just knew them too well for your own good.
You knew you were staring, knew Luca would be quick to catch on to what was happening if you did not get a hold of yourself, but it seemed that even the music and lights had faded in favor of the scene in front of you. It was hypnotizing, seeing her give in, seeing him take charge, knowing in your heart you should be there but never would be. Cheeks heating up, you turned back to Luca.
“I actually wouldn’t mind some company, if anyone here shares your opinion tonight.” Beaming, he hooked his arm with yours and took you straight to the bar to get a refill, which would inevitably end up spilled on the floor when he made you dance until you saw stars.
You don’t know how long you had danced for when he came to you. Hands sliding down your waist to your hips, his hot breath making the hairs on your neck dress up, you did not look up. You knew it wasn’t him. Because you knew how his hands felt from that one time he caught you from falling, because no man in their right mind would dance that way with their girlfriend’s friend in a crowded club, because it would never be your neck he buries his face in. But just for a few seconds, maybe minutes, you caught yourself hoping it was true, dreaming you would turn around and get a glimpse of green eyes before his lips crashed into yours. But the eyes were dark, the hair too blonde, the hands too soft. And yet you still let him kiss you, and when his slim fingers brought your dress higher on your buttcheeks, you even moaned in his mouth. Desperate was an understatement at this point.
“I’m going to put my fist so far up his ass he’ll be lucky if…” Alex’s sentence was cut short by Charles’ hand slamming against her face, flashing an apologetic smile to the friends they were chatting with and dragging her away. “Who even is that ? I’m going to get a bouncer to kick him out.” Charles had to tighten the grip on his arm to finally get her to look at him.
“Calm. Down.” This seemed to only piss her off more, but before she could start another rant, this time aimed at her boyfriend, he grabbed her by the neck and kissed her, giving him the advantage of surprise to then speak in her ear. “I know. But love, just look around you. At least half of this party knows us. I’m not sure punching a guy flirting with…” Unsure of how to call you to appease Alex, he opted for simplicity. “Y/N, and making a scene like a jealous wife is the best way to get her back.”
She sighed, head rubbing against the palm of his hand, before raising her doe eyes at him. “Then do it, Charles.” Getting closer to him, Alexandra brought her lips to his, her breath intoxicating like syrupy almonds. “Everyone knows you. Everyone loves you. Who would even dare to say something to Mr. Golden Boy.” Fluttering her eyelashes, she knew exactly how to get him. Sweet as honey, sharp as glass. “Why don’t you be a good boy and go fetch her for me, hm Charlie ?” He only managed to nod pathetically, his whole body aching to get on his knees and have her sit on his face.
The tension in his muscles was still present by the time he got to the bar stool where you were sitting, and he thought he might actually end up smashing the guy’s face against the counter. You were laughing like he had never heard before, the kind of sultry giggles that belonged to cab rides and hotel hallways, only an invitation for the hand already sat on your thigh to go up further. He barely had time to think of consequences, and you to realize he was standing behind you, before his hand fell to the guy’s shoulder, and he started speaking in his ear. The music was too loud, you were getting really drunk, so when the man’s eyes got wide, and he apologized before leaving in a hurry, you were unable to guess what Charles could have told him.
“I’m sorry, doll…” It wasn’t the first time he called you that, yet everytime it left your heart pulsing, and your core aching for more. You felt your legs wobble as he slid between them. “Seems he wasn’t interested in much more than a quick fling.” His fingers ran up your thigh and you almost fell the dig of a nail, before he took the hem of your dress and brought it back down to its usual length. The exhale that came out of your mouth felt like the first one in hours. “And you’re worth more than quick, aren’t you ?” At this moment, no, you weren’t worth more than that, you were yearning for someone to take your mind off the shitshow that was your heart, even if it meant bending over a bathroom sink for any nameless guy. But you smiled through the shivers and thanked him, even daring to put your hand on his. Everything was spinning, your ears were ringing, but he was smiling back at you, so maybe this evening wasn’t so bad. “Party’s over, let’s go home, doll.”
On the way back, Alex sat in the front of the car, but kept her hand on your knee the whole way, tracing small circles on your exposed skin. It almost seemed to you that with every sharp breath you took, you saw her smile in the car’s mirrors, but you fell asleep without being sure.
Even Charles was annoyed now. Maybe he could buy you a leash, make sure you were never straying too far. A tag too, so that you wouldn’t get lost. One with his name etched into the metal, just so there’d be no doubt. Just so that everyone knew who you belonged to. Would you be good ? Obedient ? He barely managed to get back to reality before his face got as red as his suit. Knee bouncing restlessly, his eyes were unable to leave you, bent over his car as a mechanic showed you his seat. If he could see you, it meant everyone could. And that was starting to get on his nerves.
“Sorry I found a pretty one” Alex whispered, sliding up behind him, her voice a low hum of amusement against his ear. “Sometimes I wish I could lock her up too…”
“I mean you could.” Charles knew he was fucking up. The words had tumbled out before he could stop himself, the implication behind heavy with something he would not dare to name. He knew his girlfriend had been teetering on the edge lately, and that any idea fueling her possessiveness would be considered, no matter how immoral. He knew he was supposed to be the voice of reason. Your soft way back to her, to them. Like the web to the spider. But this new mechanic he was definitely going to get fired was now making you try a headset, and he was playing with your hair, and the image of you getting yanked back to his feet was taking too much place in his brain. So when Alexandra stared at him, he simply shrugged, surrendering. “I don’t want her to stray too far when I’m on track. Who knows what could happen to her.”
When the free practice started, and Alexandra sent you to get her painkillers from the “infirmary”, you didn’t know what you were getting into. As the door locked behind you in the small storage room, you became painfully aware that you had no idea how this world worked. You had followed her instructions blindly, not really knowing anyone, and not wanting to cause trouble. And now you were banging on the door, feeling the air slowly get out of your lungs as the panic took over your body. There wasn’t any light in the room, and you could faintly hear the rumbles of the cars in the distance. Everyone was probably busy either watching or working on the track. No one would hear you scream, yet you begged for help with every bit of energy left in you.
Claustrophobia had been the fear you never got over. Taking stairs rather than elevators and walking over crowded buses, you had mostly managed on your own. But there you were, stuck in what seemed smaller than your bathroom at the residency, wondering if you were about to suffocate to death between tyre blankets and wires in Abu Dhabi. Charles had told you the practices lasted about an hour. But would you ? And even if your lungs hadn’t burnt from the thick air then, would someone find you right away ? Who could even come to look for you, in such a foreign place, with no friends other than two of the busiest people there could be this weekend ? Tears streaming down your face, you found yourself wishing you had never left their side. Maybe that would have been childish, but you would have been safe.
“Y/N ? Y/N are you in there ?” Anywhere in the world you would have recognized this voice. The only one that would understand your pain because she knew your fears. You screamed her name and heard rustling in the hallway. For a second when the door opened, she stood bathed in the clinical white lights, and you thought you had died. No angel would ever come close to such a vision. “Y/N ! Mon chou come here oh my god” She fell to her knees, opening her arms, and it felt like coming home. To hell with the physical distance, to hell with the principles. She had found you. She had saved you. Your head in her neck and her hands in your hair, you tightened your arms against her even when she gasped, but pulled you even closer. The tears falling down on your cheeks weren’t yours only, and you could barely make out what she was saying.
When the buzzing in your ears finally calmed down, she had cupped your face, whispering inches away from it. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you you’re safe. Please don’t leave me anymore. Please please please Y/N I beg you I got so scared, you weren’t coming back and I thought something had happened to you, it’s not safe here.” Rubbing your cheek with her thumb, she even kissed repeatedly your forehead as you could only nod, still crying. “Stay by my side, please never do that again. I thought I had lost you, I thought…”
You said yes, over and over again, apologizing as if it had been your fault, promising to be good like a prayer to a benevolent deity.
When Charles got out of the car and saw you holding Alex’s hand, your whole body twitching while she was beaming, he could not help but smirk. On a counter next to his phone, the keys to one of the storage rooms sat innocently, gleaming under the lights.
The weeks following the incident felt like a blur, as if your mind was slowly sinking into the mist of December mornings, and the last of your independence with it. Wherever you turned, Alexandra’s warmth and Charles’s steady hands were there, lingering at the edge of your vision, too close to be a coincidence.
But it was too comforting to not bathe in it. Your mind kept on replaying the moment your friend had found you in the storage room so many times it became a mantra, a balm to soothe the fear that still clawed at your thoughts at night. She found you. She saved you. She would never leave you. Charles too, after making a scene at the race and demanding the lack of safety in the infrastructure to be investigated, had made a point of shielding you from anything he deemed not safe. Which now that you were back in Monaco, seemed to be everything and everyone. You caught him glaring more than once at strangers, his body always carefully sliding between you and anyone who got too close.
Yet you had also been witness to the ugly side of fame since, the shadows it casted and the vultures it attracted, and trusted them to keep you away from it. All celebrities seemed to like their private life to stay, well… Private, and so when he brushed a stray hair from your face and told you he wouldn’t let any creep bother his dear friend, you believed him.
And truth be told, you loved the attention. That’s what you wished for, all you ever wanted, you told yourself as Alex braided your hair on the couch of the residency, Charles scrolling on his phone, his knee brushing absent-mindedly against yours. It was sweet, how they cared so much. Your roommates had given up on understanding, as long as the mood was not as icy as it had been the past month, they were fine with pretending nothing had ever happened. Life itself seemed to be so much easier with just them anyway. Why bother looking elsewhere, for what even ?
“I thought you were really cute, and I just wanted to give you my number, if you ever wanna go on a date.” The French accent snapped you out of your thoughts, and you nodded, blushing, as the barista winked at you. Your gaze immediately darted to the side, as if they’d be standing there, watching. But you had come alone, like stepping outside without a coat, not sure how you were now feeling about the decision. No matter what, it seemed their presence clung to you like a second skin.
They weren’t stopping you from dating, or making friends out of the internship. But it had been a while since you had thought about anyone else in that manner, and stepping out of the comfortable bubble you had built around the three of you now seemed like such an effort, on top of being scary. A voice in your head, your voice probably, even though it sounded too much like Alexandra’s, always ended up whispering : What else do you need that you don’t already have ?
The barista’s number scribbled on a napkin stayed untouched in your bag. Charles’ eyes had lingered too long on your phone screen one night, and when you mentioned in passing the way the uber driver had complimented your makeup, Alex had tilted her head just slightly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, her tongue brushing faintly against her canine. But they laughed it off, and you laughed with them, sinking into a soft net that felt more silk than cloud.
Had you been more careful, maybe you would have seen the signs. The way stuff in your bedroom seemed to change places, or even disappear. The deleted messages sent from your own phone, asking to be left alone, confirming you weren’t interested. The delicate touch of a hand on your arm, the oh-so-French kiss on the cheeks you always seemed to receive whenever a flirtatious wink was sent your way. But you had missed her, and you liked him so much, and for nothing in the world you would go back to a world where those weren’t your best friends. No matter how hard it was to fall asleep picturing them running their hands further than morality authorized.
As you lingered by Marco’s door, his bed still a wreck even though he had left a week ago, you couldn’t help but sigh. The house was so quiet, barely troubled by the faint swirl of wind in the garden. You thought you would like it this way. Even though it had been fun, living with seven other art students had been… Messy. Now everyone had gone home, and there was no need for fighting over the thermostat or Sunday mornings rush to get groceries anymore. Only the handmade decorations were left behind, like ghosts of their absence.
You couldn’t explain to yourself why you had resisted going home. On the phone with your mother, you had brushed it off with excuses about the time-consuming art pieces, the flights, and how it would be easier to stay. But when the clock struck midnight on the 22, and the thought of waking up alone for the next few days clawed at your chest, you booked the next available flight. You’d surprise your family. Sitting at the table and laughing at their jokes and going for a walk after lunch. You’d come home.
The morning of the 24th greeted you with hope, and then a storm. Nice’s airport’s fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the crowd’s disappointed faces as flight after flight turned red on the departure boards. You tried to stay calm, fiddling with a trinket tied to your bag, but when the announcement came that no flights would leave until the storm cleared, something inside you cracked. You were stuck. Not home. Not Monaco.
You stared at your phone, thumb hovering over Alexandra’s contact. You hadn’t told them you were leaving, hadn’t wanted to explain why the urge to run away, and why you were now desperately crawling back. The empty airport felt like punishment, and your fingers moved before you could second-guess yourself. Faced with her warm voice, the words tumbled out on their own. The storm. The canceled flights. The panic of the crowd slowly but surely spreading to you.
“You stay there, we’re coming to get you”. You barely had time to protest before the call ended.
When their car pulled up outside the terminal, the storm still raged, rain lashing against the windshield as Charles parked. Alex hopped out, an umbrella barely covering her as she ran to you, her sparkly short dress illuminating the pavement. “Oh, mon chou, you must be freezing,” she cooed, wrapping her coat around your shoulders and guiding you to the car.
Charles was waiting, heater blasting, his smile soft as he looked back at you from the driver’s seat. “You should’ve told us you were leaving,” he said, a hint of reproach softened by his tone.
You shrugged, sinking into the warmth of the car. “It was a last-minute thing.”
Alexandra clicked her tongue, clearly disapproving, as she slid in beside you. “At least you have your bag ready.” You barely had time to register what was happening as you saw Charles type in an address that was definitely not the residency. Before you could ask, his eyes met yours in the mirror.
“You’re not spending Christmas alone, doll. I called my mom on the way, so I hope you like oysters.” He broke eye contact as you opened your mouth to protest, his voice much lower, daring you to defy him. “Don’t argue with me, it’s already settled.”
Their idea of Christmas was something out of a dream. Charles’ family home in Monaco was decked out in soft lights and greenery, the smell of mulled wine and myriads of meals filling every corner. His family welcomed you with open arms, and Alexandra’s parents, who had joined as well, treated you with the delicate attention of pretending like your presence had always been planned.
The day went on as if you were stuck in the flow of a warm river, feeling the deep call you but unable to move a muscle to swim against it. You hadn’t been allowed to lift a finger, Charles steering you away from the kitchen when you offered to help, pressing a glass of wine in your hand instead. “Absolutely not. You’re a guest, Y/N. Relax.”
Everytime someone asked how you were enjoying the day, one of them was always quick to describe how “special” it was to have you here, and how glad they were to finally be able to introduce you. Their attention was always on you, always ready for any request you might have. What had become a natural habit, developing over the last few weeks, was now exacerbated under the glimmering lights, and the Christmas tree seemed to wink at you, knowingly, as if it was in on whatever elaborate spectacle Charles and Alexandra had orchestrated. Their care was overbearing but left no room for complaint. By the time dessert was served, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. An intricate figurine in a glass case, too precious to touch but constantly on display. Anytime Charles called for his doll, you got dizzier.
When everyone gathered around the fireplace to open their gifts, the cook gave you a knowing look and gestured at another glass of wine left on the kitchen counter, before swiftly exiting the room. You gladly took it and observed from afar the parade of extravagance. Designer clothes, limited-edition art pieces, concerts tickets in another country. If you thought your own Christmases back home were lavish, it was no comparison to the Leclerc’s.
“Here, mon chou.” Alexandra purred, pressing a carefully wrapped small box in your hand. “We planned on giving it to you next week but now’s even better.”
You hesitated, feeling your cheeks heat up as everyone turned to you. This was not planned. You did not have time to get either of them anything, even less their families. It all felt like a show you had never agreed on being a part of. “You really didn’t have to-”
“Open it.” Charles interrupted, his grin infuriating, dimples bigger than ever. He lounged back on the sofa, one ankle resting casually on his knee, his gaze fixed on you. With a brush of his hands, he pretended to swish away your worries. “We’ll go and change it if you don’t like it”.
The box revealed a delicate bracelet, platinum with tiny diamonds winking along its length. Sucking in a breath, you felt their eyes on you, expectant, hungry for your reaction. ��It’s pretty, no ?” Alexandra’s voice was eager, her fingers brushing yours as she took the bracelet to clasp it around your wrist. It was too much. The alcohol made your head pound and you felt like throwing up. Raising your eyes, the guilt hit you like a wave. They had done so much for you, gone out of their way to include you, and you couldn’t even summon the gratitude they deserved ? The metal was biting into your skin as if in reprimand, your whole body feeling like fire since you had finished your glass. Taking a deep breath, you excused yourself to “freshen up”.
The low hum of voices faded as you found a quiet room in the labyrinth that was the house. This is what you’d always wanted, wasn’t it ? To be cared for, adored, treated like the most important person in the room ? Then why did it feel too much ? Why did it feel like drowning ? You thought back to October, and quickly recognized the signs of your love barging through the door, demanding the best place at the table. You couldn’t let either of them know you were back on your stupid feelings, or they would leave you again. And then ? You had seen the pain, for everyone involved. Good friends. Best friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. You exhaled, praying for your thoughts to shut up, concentrating on the wind outside.
It was Charles that came for you, sitting carefully next to you on the bed, as though you might shatter if he moved an inch wrong. Turning away from the frosted window, you murmured. “Just needed a breather.”
“I’m sorry.” Before you even had time to ask what for, he sighed, gesturing vaguely towards the door. “For all of this. We just wanted to make you feel welcome but… It’s obviously not working.” Running a hand through his hair, betraying his frustration, his other one went tentatively to yours, and your fingers laced together. “I can see you’re not enjoying this, and I know it will never be the same as being with your family.”
“Charles, I don’t-”
“I can arrange a plane.” He was rambling on, a habit they seemed to share, and in the soft light of the moon, you could swear his eyes were red. “First thing in the morning, have you be home before lunch. We love having you here, doll, but… I think it might have been selfish of us.” There. You had made him sad. He had made you feel like family and you had fled like a spoiled child. If anyone was selfish here, it was you.
“No !” You blurted, the word too loud, startling even yourself. Moving towards him on instinct, you threw yourself in his arms, hands gripping to his back, fingers curling against the smooth fabric of his sweater. He tilted his head, questioning, but you only buried your face against his chest. “I… I don’t want to leave. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed ungrateful. I didn’t mean to. It’s not too much, you’re not too much. You could never be. I’ll try harder, I’ll appreciate it more, I’m sorry I-” It seemed the habit had also infected you, and your monologue was stopped by Charles’ thumb brushing against your bottom lip.
“Shhh” The hand that was in your back went up to your head, softly rubbing your hair, as you lost yourself in his eyes. Were those freckles or just beauty spots ? Had those always been here ? You felt tempted to touch them but froze up when your lips opened up on instinct. Seriously, how many drinks did you have ? “You don’t have to apologize. I just want you to feel welcomed and… Appreciated.” The moment stretched, world narrowing to the warmth of his arms and the pulse of your heart as he opened your mouth even more and slid his thumb past your lips, your teeth, and to rest against your tongue. “And loved.” His gaze was fixated on your lips, and for a brief moment, until footsteps were heard in the hallway, you thought he was going to kiss you, or maybe slap you. You wouldn’t have protested either.
His lips went to brush softly against your forehead, and it took every last ounce of self-control in you to not bite down on his thumb as he took it out of your mouth. His fingers traced down your cheek, your jaw, down to your neck, where he softly closed his fingers around your throat as the moan that had been stuck in there was finally let free. You wanted this moment to last forever, almost wished he would choke you out so you would never have to go back to reality. But something snapped suddenly in his eyes, and he ruffled at your hair before standing up with a confidence that made you question if the moment had truly happened, or if the cook had spiked your drink. In the white light of the night, his finger shined briefly with saliva, and you followed him back to the living room like a dog who had gotten the sweetest treat.
The floor length mirror stared back at you, unkind in its honesty. You leaned in as Alexandra gently titled your chin up with her fingertips, her voice humming as she added the finishing touches to your makeup. The sharpness of your features seemed amplified under their bedroom golden light, and your reflection felt foreign. Maybe it was the week, and its endless swirl of champagne, parties, and faces you couldn’t remember. Or maybe it was the memory of Christmas Eve, and its almost-kiss which kept replaying in your mind like a broken record you didn’t have the strength to discard.
Charles hadn’t mentioned it. Not a word. The morning after, his smile came on as easy as ever, his voice smooth and jokes easy, as if nothing had happened. Alex had thrown herself onto him, bathing him in affection, as though your world hadn’t turned upside down in that hidden room. Even now, as his hands brushed against your shoulders, slipping the straps of your too-short dress into place, you were wondering if you hadn’t dreamed it all.
“Stop squirming” He teased, smoothing out the fabric and pulling up the zipper.
Alexandra laughed and stepped back to inspect her work, two fingers still holding your chin. “She’s not squirming, she’s just nervous.”
“Il y a pas de quoi être stressé, c’est le Nouvel An, pas une gardav’ non plus…” Not understanding the slang, you copied your friend’s reaction, and as she clicked her tongue, you rolled your eyes.
You felt like an imposter. How could you have let it get this far ? You were supposed to go back to being friends, that was the deal. Not over complicating things, not pushing boundaries of what they were giving you. But then every time one of their friends got curious about you, Alexandra would say you were “Just someone special”, her casual voice contrasting with her nails scratching on your thigh. Her eyes would flicker, the kind that warned you not to correct her, and you let yourself get locked up in this almost-relationship that you had so desperately tried to escape a few weeks before.
Reaching for the curling iron, she murmured, more observation than question. “You’ve been quiet today.”
“Just tired, I guess… We’ve gone out a lot this week.” You forced a laugh, aiming for nonchalance, but Charles simply raised a brow, not impressed.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We can just stay there, order some food, …”
You cut him off by twirling on yourself, the dress flaring so high it couldn’t have been conceived to cover anything. Alexandra groaned and caught you by the shoulders to steady you, apparently not satisfied with your curls. “When I look like that ? It would be such a waste !” The green-eyed boy chuckled and nodded in agreement. Dressed to perfection, your hair soft and shining, you looked exactly like what they wanted you to be : a doll. And truth be told, you enjoyed it. When he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and they both looked at you with something that could be pride, you knew you owed it to them to have fun, at least tonight, at least the following months. At least until England called you back and you answered, leaving your summer love to rest on the green hills. You owed it to them to pretend you weren’t haunted by the ghost of “almost”, and maybe you could even pretend long enough to end up believing it yourself.
“Close it, you’re going to swallow a fly.” Charles pushed softly on your chin to close your mouth you had left wide in awe, before rubbing the nape of his neck. “Much funnier in French…” He mumbled before leaving his keys to a valet, and opening the way for you and Alexandra. The mansion was huge, its garden spilling to the edge of the woods behind it, and the music pulsing through the air carried promises of a night you might not remember in the morning.
It seemed everyone who knew a Formula 1 driver, directly or indirectly, had been invited. Some faces you recognized, but most not, and the shower of compliments you found yourself in as soon as you stepped foot in the main living room quickly felt suffocating. The polite flirting made you feel uneasy, their admiration like scrutiny, and before you even had time to cling to your anchors, they drifted away. “I’ll be right back, chou.” Charles’ hand brushed briefly against yours before he followed his girlfriend to go greet some friends, and you stayed right where they left you.
No matter how much you repeated your internal calming mantra, the vulnerability was creeping in. There were too many people you didn't know, and so you made it a mission to not lose again the only two that mattered. When they asked if you were having fun, you nodded, the lie automatic. For the following hours, it turned to truth, as you stuck close to them like a guard dog unwilling to stray too far from its leash. If Charles moved to refill a drink, you downed yours too quickly to follow. If Alexandra drifted to another conversation, your hand clung to her elbow, begging to tag along. You weren’t proud of it, but the dread clawed at your chest every time you stood alone for more than a heartbeat. You were enjoying yourself as long as you weren’t left to your own devices. Long gone was the resolution of making new friends, it seemed.
The air in the house had been filled with tension as midnight approached, and you felt like you had suddenly woken up. A glass of something golden in your hand, its fizz long forgotten, you were nodding along to Pierre’s story about an incident on a recent trip, while his girlfriend Kika hung onto his arm, punctuating his tale with playful jabs. You tried to listen, you really did, but something was missing, and you couldn’t help but give in to the voices bothering your every thought as he wrapped up his story.
“Have you seen Charles ? Or Alex…?”
Kika’s lips curled, mischief in her eyes, and she exchanged a look with Pierre who chuckled. “They’ve probably gone to enjoy the view, as usual.”
“Top floor,” Kika added, still giggling as she sipped her cocktail. “There’s a balcony up there that’s quite… Private.”
Mumbling a quick excuse, you set your glass down and slipped away, through the maze of guests and corridors of the sprawling mansion. The thud in your ears was soon more heartbeat than music, the knot in your stomach tightening between unease and anticipation. When you reached the top floor, the door to the bedroom was ajar, dim light coming from within and spilling onto the hallway. You closed it behind you, breath stuck in your throat.
There they were. Alexandra’s back was pressed against the railing, her sequined dress shimmering in the moonlight as Charles leaned into her. His hands rested on either side of her waist, fingers curling possessively over the iron, as he brought one knee up between her legs, silencing her laugh. He was working down her throat when she opened her mouth, eyes fixed on you, but did not stop kissing and biting, seemingly not caring.
“Oh darling, caught us” She purred, her voice thick with amusement. Her manicured finger pointed at you before curling, inviting you to come closer. You should not. You should flee. This was not your moment, it would never be. Also, you should keep a closer eye on your drinks because someone was definitely having fun drugging you lately, no way any of this was true. But your feet moved before your brain was done having a panic attack, and you found yourself gently pushed in the woman’s arms by Charles.
She probably saw your eyes jumping from one to the other, thoughts racing behind them at light speed, and with each hand on your cheeks, centered you back to her face. This felt like deja-vu, your lips so close, your perfume swirling together, like the wish you had screamed to the moon that night was finally becoming true, only a few months too late.
“I’m sorry.” Oh no. Oh not again. You were about to jump out of her embrace when you felt his body behind yours, closing back on both of you as his hands caught on the guardrail once more. “Stay. Please.” Not like you had much of a choice anyway. Charles was looking down at the garden over her shoulder, badly pretending as if he wasn’t inches away from the most private conversation happening tonight. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize what was going on between us. And I’m sorry I hurt you in the process. You deserve the world, not any of the mess I put you through. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.” She was already forgiven, how could she not when her apologies were whispered between your lips. “But I know where I stand now. And if you allow me, I’ll never give you less than the world. Because that’s what you deserve. Because you love me and I love you.”
“Ten !” Charles took a step to the side as the screams from downstairs echoed through the whole house. He leaned on the balcony, and you almost fell to the floor from the shaking in your legs. “Nine !” She caught you by the waist and pulled you back to her with a laugh, one so hesitant it could only be filled with honesty.
“Eight !” You were dreaming. You wanted to punch yourself to wake up, but without even knowing how, your hands had gone up to her arms, shoulders, neck, cheek. “Seven !” You had promised yourself, you had promised her, and Chiara, and the world itself, that you would be fine being just friends. “Six !” Why was she the one ruining all of your efforts ? Why was she still the one you would wait for, when everyone else was long gone ?
“Five !” Was Charles just going to stand there, and pretend like his girlfriend didn’t confess to someone else ? “Four !” Maybe they had talked ? Maybe they had been open this whole time and you hadn’t seen the signs ? Would he kiss you too ? “Three !”
You cupped her cheeks and it felt like the world exploded when your lips met. Or maybe it was just the fireworks. Maybe it was the culmination of months of pining, love and pain, that was giving her kiss a taste of blood, a taste of more. She switched your places, pinning you against the barrier and deepened the kiss as your hands tugged at her hair, undoing the curls she had so carefully crafted. Everyone was screaming for the New Year, but you felt like they were doing it for you. Is that how it felt, to love and be loved ? Like you would rather run out of oxygen than end the moment. Like teeths and tongues, being fourteen and messy all over again. Like a movie-worthy compilation of every smile she had flashed you for the last four months was playing behind your closed eyes.
When you opened them, her mouth now running wild on your jaw, it’s a green spark of amusement that was looking back at you, a slow whistle coming out of his dry lips. Shit. You had kissed his girlfriend. Or his girlfriend had kissed you. And he wasn’t moving to join in. Were you about to be thrown from the highest balcony in some sick kind of real-life Cluedo ? But he simply brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and the small caress he gave to Alexandra’s back made her moan against your collarbones. “Les clés sont sur la porte mon amour.” She mumbled what you understood to be thank you, not sure why for, as he moved towards the door.
“Wait Charlie I’m…” It was difficult to talk with Alex, determined to kiss every inch of visible skin on your body, and there was a lot. “I’m sorry I… What’s happening ?” You could only hope they had not broken up, not because of you, yet you saw no world in which this situation would be acceptable for him. With his usual playful grin you had grown so fond of, he winked at you before exiting the room swiftly.
“There’s a time for actions, and a time for explanations. Happy New Year, doll.”
With every step that she took you followed, painfully aware of how much she knew you, much better than you would have thought. Kissing in all the right places, her grin was getting wider every time you winced under the dig of her sharp nails, and she hushed you as if the drunken screams downstairs weren’t covering your moans. But you were determined to be good, as you had been from day one, and so you bit the pillow and pulled at her hair, let her know it hurts and let her keep going, because you loved her and she loved you. And she would never leave you.
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4
Taglist : @sam-is-lost // @mangotaitai // @ilovechickenwings // @eroselless // @zreads111 // @crimson-spine // @inejismywife // @champomiel // @eternoange1 // @charizznorizz // @exactlycoralfox // @waitwhendidwegethere // @cluelessred3 // @spookystitchery // @erikasurfer // @catswag22 // @appl3-0rchard // @janeh22 // @boohoneyy // @sheslikeacurse // @customsbyjcg-blog // @urmotheris // @lewisvinga // @formulaal // @novocainenoon // @taytaylala12 // @esterdnebe // @jack0357 // @mortallyblueninja // @jexxy04 // @itsprashimusic // @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp // @annabellelee // @natsmywife // @daisyfreecs // @scorpiomindfuck // @themessietbihalive // @ananyasr1bughead
#doomedmoth#fanfic#rpf#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#formula 1 rpf#f1 x you#f1 polyamory#dark!f1#poly!f1#y/n#formula one x reader#fluff#angst#suggestive#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x reader x alexandra saint mleux#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x y/n#alexandra saint mleux#alexandra saint mleux x reader#alexandra saint mleux x you#alexandra saint mleux x y/n#cl16#cl16 x y/n#cl16 x reader
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A Well- Tailored Affair
Alastor x female! reader
Summary: Being The Radio Demon's one and only personal tailor has it own perks.
A/N- Sorry I have been gone for quite some time!! But I'm back, I had NOOOOOO idea what to write and this thought came to me mid sleep at like 12am So anyways I hope you enjoy!
ALSO this was gonna proofread because I didn't have time and I missed yall so sorry if it sucks 💀
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Being a tailor in Hell was no small feat, especially when your main client was none other than the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. When you first took the job, you didn’t expect it to be much of a challenge working with his specific tastes. But over time, you came to know him like the back of your hand.
Today, he was scheduled for a fitting. He had dropped off a newer jacket last week but he said he had business to attend to and he'd come back next week and that was today. As always, the atmosphere of your small shop—which wasn’t far from the hotel—was calm and cozy. You were currently cross-stitching a dress for Rosie for some type of event in Cannibal Town when, suddenly, the bell above the door jingled. There he was. Alastor stepped inside with his signature grin, accompanied by the hum of radio static. The aura he carried was palpable. The moment he entered, you could feel the air shift.
"Ah, my favorite tailor!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide before resting his hands on the microphone in front of him. With a slight tilt of his head, he asked, "Have you missed me?"
You chuckled softly, stepping away from your work and already reaching for the measuring tape. "You were here last week, Alastor. Hardly enough time to miss anyone." You smiled. His grin didn’t falter, though you didn’t notice how his crimson eyes lingered on you longer than usual. Truth be told, Alastor liked you. More than he should, and more than he realized. Part of it was the trust he placed in you to handle his precious suits, which were such a vital part of who he was. But it was also because you treated them with such grace. You knew what you were doing and were exceptional at it. Not to mention, you were one of the rare souls in Hell who wasn’t afraid of him. And lastly, you were undeniably pretty—he thought that too.
"Ah, but a week without your company is an eternity, my dear," Alastor replied. You brushed off his words with a smile. He often gave small, sweet compliments about your work and how he missed you, so this wasn’t anything new. Yet today, his words seemed to carry a different meaning.
You rolled your eyes playfully, motioning for him to step onto the fitting platform. In front of him was a large mirror—he loved checking his reflection to ensure he always looked impeccable. "Alright, charmer, let’s see what we’re working with today. Did you tear another sleeve during one of your dramatics?" you teased, looking from the sleeve up into his eyes.
He let out a melodic laugh. "Guilty as charged! I simply cannot help myself. Life—or afterlife, rather—demands a flair for the theatrical!"
As you worked, your hands expertly adjusted the fabric of his jacket. You noticed his gaze drifting to you frequently. At first, you thought he might be scrutinizing your technique, but no—this was different. His grin softened ever so slightly whenever he thought you weren’t looking. Watching your focused expression gave him an odd fluttering sensation, almost like butterflies in his stomach.
"You’re very precise," he remarked, his voice quieter than usual.
"Kind of comes with the job," you replied with a smile, pinning a sleeve in place. "Can’t have the Radio Demon walking around in anything less than perfection, right?"
"Indeed. And you, my dear, are perfection. I must confess, I’ve never trusted anyone else with my suits. You have an extraordinary talent."
You paused, caught off guard by the bold confession—especially coming from him. "Thank you, Alastor. That means a lot," you said, grabbing the needle and thread.
"And," he added, tilting his head as though studying a particularly fascinating piece of art, "it doesn’t hurt that you’re quite easy on the eyes." Was he kidding? He had to be, right? Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you nearly dropped the pin you were holding. "Oh! Uh, thanks."
He noticed your reaction and chuckled, clearly amused. "Did I fluster you? My, my, how delightful!" Alastor grinned, watching you through the mirror. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. "Stop moving," you muttered, focusing on adjusting the flaps on his suit. You finished stitching up the rip on his sleeve with a clean, neat stitch—it was a relatively easy fix.
The silence grew heavy until he broke it. "You’re one of the only few who doesn’t fear me, you know… It’s refreshing."
"Well, I figured if you were going to do something to me, you would’ve done it already," you replied with a smirk, stepping back to admire your work. Alastor’s grin widened. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I find your company far too enjoyable to spoil."
You shook your head, laughing softly. "Alright, smooth talker, you’re good to go. You can come and pick it up in 24 hours." You watched as he stepped down from the platform, adjusted his jacket, the one he came in with and turned to face you. "Splendid! I’ll be counting the seconds until I see your lovely presence again!" He started toward the door but paused, looking back over his shoulder with that ever-present grin. "Oh, and my dear, do save a moment for tea when I return. I’d like to enjoy more of your delightful company." You smiled, shaking your head. "You better not rip your coat on purpose in the next 24 hours!" you shouted after him.
You heard his laugh echo as he left, leaving you standing in the middle of your shop, flustered and smiling despite yourself. Maybe being Alastor’s tailor wasn’t so bad after all.
#alastor#hazbin hotel#the radio demon#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#alastor imagine#i have an obsession
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⸻ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴛ ʏ ʀ ᴀ ɴ ᴛ ⸻
Pairing: Yandere HOTD x Targaryen Reader Part 1
Summary: Everything was fine. You were happy. Your mother was expecting a child, and soon enough, you would have another one to call family, to call your own. Everything was perfect. What could possibly go wrong?
˚꒰notes꒱‧ Reader is Rhaenyra's twin. Criston is already reader personal gourd. Dark reader. English is not my first language. Gifs don't belong to me credit to the owner. Hope you enjoy!
The chamber was warm, bathed in the soft glow of afternoon light that streamed through the narrow windows, casting golden patterns on the stone floor. Y/n stood by her mother’s bedside, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Aemma’s face. Her mother was always beautiful, but now, heavy with child, there was a fragility to her that made Y/n’s heart stir in ways she wasn’t used to. A strange protectiveness, an almost suffocating need to keep her safe from all the sharp, ugly things in the world.
Aemma’s hand, delicate and pale, rested atop her swollen belly. Her breathing was slow, rhythmic, and tired. Y/n could see it, the weariness that clung to her mother’s every movement. She had been sick often lately, and though no one spoke of it, Y/n could feel something dark looming over them. Something inevitable.
"You must be kind, Y/n," Aemma said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but still full of that soft warmth that made her sound so motherly. "Be careful… be kind. To people… to the babe."
Her mother’s words hung in the air, and Y/n felt a smile tug at her lips—soft, gentle. Kind. I have always been kind, she thought, her mind drifting to the moments where she had shown her love, in the ways only she knew how.
“I am kind,” she replied softly, kneeling beside her mother’s bed and taking Aemma’s hand. It was cool to the touch, but still, her mother’s fingers closed weakly around hers. “I’ve always been kind to you, Mother. To Father, to Rhaenyra... I will be kind to my brother too.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, a secret shared between them. “I’ve already chosen a dragon egg for him. Dreamfyre's, and he will be great. He will be a king, Mother.”
Aemma smiled, but it was tired, worn. “You sound so certain it’s a boy,” she said with a faint laugh, but there was no real joy behind it—just exhaustion.
“It’s just a feeling,” Y/n said, her smile deepening as she leaned down to kiss her mother’s cheek, lingering just a little too long. Her skin is soft, she thought, and cold. Like a candle that’s been left to burn too long. But that’s alright. Y/n had warmth enough for both of them. She could give that to her. She would always take care of her mother.
Her lips brushed her mother’s cheek one last time before she pulled away, straightening her posture. "Rest, Mother," she whispered, her fingers trailing lightly over Aemma’s arm as she withdrew. “I’ll be back soon.”
As she left the chamber, Y/n's mind wandered. A king. My little brother will be a king, and he will love me more than anyone else. More than Rhaenyra ever could. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. Her brother, with silver hair like hers, riding a dragon she had chosen for him. She could already see it—the two of them, bounding, and nothing would ever come between them. This time there would be no rats like that cunt, Alicent.
But now... now she had other needs to attend to. A different kind of satisfaction.
She made her way through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, her mind already drifting to him. Her favorite. He’s always so eager for me, she thought with a smirk. So desperate to please, so desperate to be needed. She liked that about him—his submission, his willingness to do whatever she asked without question. And his hair... gods, his silver hair. It always reminded her of home.
She reached the brothels and paused at the door, her hand resting on the cold wood. Do I want him soft tonight? Or do I want to see him cry? She wasn’t sure yet. Maybe both. Maybe neither.
Pushing open the door, she stepped inside, her eyes immediately finding him. He was kneeling, waiting, as she had taught him to. His head bowed, silver hair falling into his eyes. The sight sent a flicker of warmth through her—something like affection, but sharper. He’s beautiful, she thought. Perfect.
"Look at me," she commanded softly, and he obeyed, lifting his head to meet her gaze. His eyes were wide, nervous. Good. She liked him that way.
"I’ve missed you," she purred, moving closer, her fingers already itching to thread through his hair. Yes, he’ll do well tonight. Maybe I’ll let him cum.
The smile that spread across her lips was soft, almost tender. I am always kind.
The room was dark, the air thick with the remnants of sleep. Y/n stirred under the silk sheets, her body warm, still damp from the night’s indulgences. Her skin glowed faintly in the low light, the satisfaction of her desires lingering like an aftertaste. She let out a sigh, stretching lazily, the weight of Aelor’s body no longer pressed against hers.
Then she heard it. A faint sound—something off. Her eyes snapped open, sharp, awake.
Aelor stood at the foot of the bed, naked but trembling, a dagger held to his throat. His silver hair was messy, his chest rising and falling quickly, eyes wild with panic.
She sat up slowly, letting the sheets fall from her body, completely unbothered by her nakedness. Her gaze locked onto the dagger, her voice calm, almost disinterested. "Aelor," she said softly, “put that away.”
But he didn’t. Instead, he shook harder, his knuckles white around the handle of the blade. “I can’t,” he whispered, his voice shaking. "I can’t do this anymore."
Y/n frowned, her brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"
Aelor let out a sob, his knees buckling as he stumbled backward, pressing the dagger harder against his skin. “You—you’ve made me miserable! Every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m dying. You’re cruel, you’re wicked, and you’ve taken everything from me! I hate you!”
Y/n blinked, her head tilting slightly, almost like she was confused. “You hate me?” she repeated, the words foreign to her. No one hated her. How could they? She was perfect. Is this a joke? She didn’t like it.
“Yes!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “You’ve ruined me! I want to die! I want to end it, right here, right now!”
For a moment, she just stared at him, her mind racing. This is ridiculous. He’s being ridiculous.
"Aelor," she said, her voice low, almost soothing. "Stop this nonsense. I can give you anything you want. Do you want gold? A dragon egg? A house by the sea? Just put the dagger down and tell me what you want."
But he shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t want any of that! I want to die! I want to be free of you!”
Die? The word was distant to her. Why would he want that? He has everything. She shifted, the furs slipping from her as she regarded him coolly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Aelor. You have a good life. You’re mine. What could be so bad about that?”
But he wasn’t listening. His breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he teetered on the edge of some terrible decision. “I can’t... I can’t... I want this to stop. I want—”
And then she heard it. A whisper. Faint, from the other side of the door.
“The queen… she’s gone.”
Her heart stopped.
Everything froze. The room, Aelor, the very air around her seemed to still as the words sank in.
"The queen is dead," came another hushed voice from outside the door. "Died in the birthing bed."
The words hit Y/n like a physical blow, sinking deep into her chest. Dead? No. Not Mother.
The room spun, and suddenly her world collapsed in on itself, like a dying star pulling everything into its cold, black heart. Her breathing quickened. She blinked fast, too fast. Her mother was gone. Her mother was gone.
No.
She felt her throat tighten, the air in the room thick and heavy, pressing against her skin. Her vision blurred, the walls seeming to warp and bend. She could hear something—an incessant buzzing in her ears, like bees trapped inside her skull, buzzing louder and louder until it drowned out everything else.
Y/n’s world collapsed inward. The sound of blood rushing in her ears, louder and louder, a deafening buzz. Her vision blurred, the room swimming, spinning. Mother. Mother is dead. She’s gone.
She tried to shake her head, tried to clear the sound, but it wouldn’t stop. The room was too bright. Too small. Too loud.
Her chest tightened, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the edges of her world shrank, leaving only the endless ringing in her ears and the hollow, aching emptiness that stretched out before her.
Gone.
Blinking rapidly, she shook her head, trying to clear it, but the buzzing only grew louder, drowning out everything else. She wanted to scream, wanted to tear the walls apart, to make everything stop, but her body wouldn’t move. Her hands twitched, her fingers curling into the sheets, the fabric slipping through her grasp as if it wasn’t even there.
And then, through the haze, she saw Aelor again, standing there, still holding the dagger to his throat, still crying, still screaming for a release that didn’t matter anymore.
For a moment, she just looked at him. Her mind was blank, her heart hollow. Then, like ice breaking through, her lips twisted into something resembling a smile, cold and sharp.
“You know what?” she said softly, her voice almost sweet. “You should do it.”
Aelor blinked, his tears stopping momentarily as confusion washed over his face. “W-what?”
“Go on,” she urged, her voice a low, deadly whisper now. “Slide it across your throat. End it, like you said.”
His face paled, and the dagger in his hand shook. “No… I don’t—”
“I’m not asking.” Her voice was like steel, cold and unyielding, her eyes dark and focused on him with terrifying intensity. “I’m telling you. Do it.”
“Y/n, please—”
“Do it!” Her voice cracked, sharp and vicious. “You want to die, don’t you? You hate me, don’t you? Well, go ahead, Aelor. Do it. Kill yourself. Right here, right now.”
He stumbling back, eyes wide with terror. “No… I don’t want to—”
Y/n stood, the sheet slipping from her naked body as she stepped forward, her eyes locked on his. “Oh, but you were so sure a moment ago. You were so brave.” Her voice was mocking now, cruel and sadistic. “What happened, Aelor? Where did all that courage go?”
He whimpered, pressing himself against the wall as if he could disappear into it, his eyes wide with horror.
And Y/n’s smile widened, her gaze never leaving his. "Do it," she whispered again, her voice now laced with something dark, something cold. Like Mother’s skin. Cold like her.
Criston stood outside the king’s chamber, listening to the muffled sobs of the king as he grieved for his dead wife. It was a sound that shook him—a king reduced to tears, broken by a loss so profound that even Criston, found himself feeling an unfamiliar weight in his chest.
Rhaenyra sat silently beside her father, pale and stiff, like a statue carved from stone. But Y/n was nowhere to be found.
"Where is she?" the king whispered, his voice hoarse. "Where is Y/n?"
Rhaenyra lifted her eyes, but said nothing, her gaze distant, lost. She was mourning too.
Criston stepped forward, his hand instinctively tightening around the pommel of his sword. He knew where the princess was. He always knew. She had a… pattern.
Viserys looked up, his eyes red and swollen. "Find her. Bring her back."
Criston nodded, his expression calm but his insides twisting. "Yes, my king." He turned swiftly, leaving the room with heavy steps, his mind already racing. The brothel. She's at the brothel.
He moved with purpose, the corridors of the Red Keep passing in a blur as he descended into the streets of King's Landing. The brothel was well know, a place where she often disappeared when the weight of her world became too much. The place where she would indulge in the pleasures that soothed her disturbed soul. Criston had been there many times—always to fetch her, to drag her back to the world she so desperately wanted to escape.
The madam greeted him at the door, her face a practiced mask of indifference. She knew why he was here. She always knew.
"The princess?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.
The madam didn’t even blink. "Upstairs. First room on the left."
Criston didn’t wait for more. He strode through the dimly lit hall, the stench of sweat, wine, and sex thick in the air. His heart pounded harder with each step, the weight of dread settling in his gut. He knew Y/n's moods—her recklessness—but something felt different this time. Something was wrong.
He reached the door, pushing it open without hesitation. The sight before him made his breath catch in his throat.
The man, her lover, lay sprawled on the floor, his throat slit from ear to ear, blood pooling beneath him like a dark, crimson lake. The smell of death hit him instantly—metallic, thick, suffocating.
And there, in the center of the room, sat Y/n. Naked, her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her skin was stained with blood—his blood—and in her hand, she still clutched the dagger. Her face was blank, hollow, as if all life had drained from her.
Criston’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. Gods. What has she done?
Without thinking, he rushed to her side, kneeling in the blood, ignoring the way it soaked into his white cloak, staining it red. His hands were shaking as he reached for her, gently trying to pry the dagger from her grip. "My princess… Y/n… what have you done?" His voice was soft, filled with worry, but there was no judgment, no anger. Only concern. Only devotion.
She didn’t respond. She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes were distant, staring ahead as if she were seeing something far beyond this room, far beyond the dead body at her feet.
Criston’s heart raced as he pulled the bloodied dagger from her hand, tossing it aside. He reached for the corner of his cloak, the pristine white fabric now ruined, and began to gently wipe the blood from her skin. His hands moved with care, as if she were fragile—like a porcelain doll that might shatter at any moment.
"My princess," he whispered again, his voice tight with desperation. "It's me, Criston. It’s all right. You’re safe. I’m here."
But she still didn’t respond. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes unblinking. Criston could see the toll it was taking on her, the way her body shook faintly with each breath. She looked… lost. Like the little girl she had once been, scared and small.
“I want to go home,” she whispered, her voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it.
He froze, his hand stilling on her arm as he looked at her. She didn’t meet his gaze, didn’t seem to even recognize him.
“I want to go home to my mother,” she repeated, her voice breaking, fragile, as if she were clinging to some distant hope.
Criston’s heart shattered. The queen. He knew the news hadn’t reached her yet. Her world had been her mother, and now… The queen was gone.
He swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in his eyes as he reached for a cloak from the bed, wrapping it carefully around her naked body, covering her from the cold that seemed to seep into her skin. "You’ll go home," he whispered, his voice trembling just slightly. "I’ll take you home."
With a soft grunt, he lifted her into his arms, her body limp and unresponsive as he held her against his chest. She was so small, so light. He hated seeing her like this. She was always so strong, so sharp. But now… now she was silent, and it terrified him.
He held her tightly, cradling her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, his white cloak now drenched in blood as he carried her through the brothel.
The madam said nothing as they passed, and the other patrons kept their eyes averted. Criston’s face was set, his jaw clenched, his eyes forward.
I’ll take her home. It's alright. Everything would be fine.
Even if the rest of the world collapsed around them, he would be there. Always. For her. Only for her.
As they left the brothel behind, he felt her shift slightly in his arms, her breath warm against his neck.
“I’ll take you home, princess,” he whispered again, more to himself than to her. "You don't need to be scared anymore."
Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.
@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ
#ㅤㅤ⠀ㅤ 𓇼ㅤ ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ˚ㅤㅤ ◌ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏#yandere hotd#hotd x reader#rhaenyra targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#criston cole x reader#daemon targaryen x reader#criston x reader#rhaenyra x reader#aegon x reader#aemond x reader#aegon ii fanfic#aegon ii x reader#otto hightower x reader#gwayne x reader#dark aegon targaryen#dark daemon targaryen#yandere aegon ii targaryen#yandere aemond targaryen#yandere rhaenyra targaryen#yandere x reader#yandere#hotd x you#yandere aegon x reader#daeron x reader#house of the dragon#hotd
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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞...
warning: some of the headcanons are +18 and explicit
a/n: hii, i really should finish my college essay, but this idea popped into my head and i couldn't help but write... it got a little poetic in some parts, but i hope you enjoy it ;)
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• At first, Hayden fought his feelings for you tooth and nail. He was a man of strong morals, someone who always prided himself on doing the right thing. Falling for someone significantly younger than him? That wasn't part of the plan. But then you appeared—carefree, confident, and completely unlike anyone he’d ever met before. You turned his world upside down, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stay away.
• There was no way Hayden was going to make the first move. He convinced himself over and over that what he felt was nothing more than admiration, curiosity at best. But you? You saw right through him. When you asked him out, he tried to laugh it off, say something about just being friends, but he couldn’t resist you. The first few times, it really was just friendly meetups—until one day, it wasn’t.
• When Hayden finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he did it in the most ridiculously romantic way. He had spent weeks planting your favorite flowers in a small garden, waking up early to tend to them himself, getting dirt under his nails, just to make sure they bloomed perfectly. When the moment came, he took your hand and walked you through the rows of blossoms, his voice quiet but sure as he finally admitted, "I don’t want to pretend anymore. I love you."
• He was always building things for you. A bookshelf when he noticed your books piling up, a handmade chair just because he wanted you to have something crafted with his hands. He’d spent hours sanding and staining the wood, never once complaining because he knew how much it would mean to you. Seeing your face light up when you saw what he made? That was his favorite part.
• Late at night, when the world quieted down, Hayden loved nothing more than wrapping his arms around you from behind. Standing out on the balcony, watching the stars, he’d rest his chin on your head and murmur, "You know you’ve completely ruined me, right?" And yet, he wouldn’t change a thing.
• Forget fancy Hollywood outings—Hayden preferred the simple moments. Trips to the farmers’ market where he’d pick out fresh fruit for you, afternoons spent browsing old bookstores, lazy beach days where he’d carry you over the hot sand so you wouldn’t burn your feet. Life was slower, sweeter, and infinitely better with you by his side.
• Bringing you into his world meant bringing you into his daughter’s world too. Blair adored you from the start, and before long, the three of you became inseparable. Family outings to the park, movie nights with popcorn fights, and trips to Disney where Blair would completely ignore Darth Vader because meeting Princess Aurora was way more important.
• At your insistence, Hayden finally made an Instagram. It was supposed to be just for checking out Star Wars fan pages and keeping up with you, but somehow, it turned into something else. His entire feed was filled with you—candid shots he took when you weren’t looking, blurry pictures of your smile, videos of you laughing until you cried. It was less of an Instagram account and more of a personal love letter.
• Hayden was endlessly patient when it came to the public scrutiny. He knew people had opinions—about the age gap, about him dating someone so much younger—but he didn’t care. Every time a snide comment surfaced online, he’d just look at you, smile, and say, "Let them talk. I know what we have."
• And when the world got too loud, he always had a way of making you feel safe. Whether it was holding your hand under the table during interviews, pulling you into a slow dance in the kitchen just to see you smile, or whispering against your skin at night, "I love you, and I’m not going anywhere." Because at the end of the day, you were his peace, and he was yours.
+𝟏𝟖 (𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒)
• Hayden transformed each intimate encounter into a loving tribute, a sacred ritual dedicated solely to you. It was never merely about physical pleasure, but an act of deep devotion and adoration. As he explored your body with tender, reverent hands, he marveled at your beauty, murmuring awestruck words of love and gratitude. Each discovery, from the curve of your hip to the way your skin flushed beneath his touch, filled him with wonder and humility. Hayden knew he was the luckiest man alive to call you his.
• You had the power to make Hayden feel invincible, like a king surveying his kingdom as you took him into the warm, silken depths of your mouth. Your lips and tongue worshipped him with an enthusiasm and affection that set his very soul ablaze. You made his cock jump and throb with renewed vigor, painting him harder than anything. Hayden was no longer a resilient youth, but his desire for you was timeless and unyielding, a force of nature. With every swirl of your tongue and bob of your head, you made him feel like the only man in existence, the center of your universe.
• As your shared climax approached, Hayden's forehead pressed against yours, your breaths mingling, your hearts pounding as one. In the charged silence between gasps and sighs, a thousand unspoken words passed between you - a telepathic dance of love, lust, and ecstasy. Pleasure built upon pleasure, cresting in a tidal wave that crashed over you, binding you in its foaming embrace. In those blissful, electrifying moments, you were not two separate beings, but a single, wonderful sensation.
• Hayden's head lolled back, eyes squeezing shut as your lips enveloped his sensitive flesh, your warm mouth a heavenly cocoon. The feeling of your tongue, your breath, your worshipful suckling - it set his blood alight, making his heart carwheel wildly in his chest. A symphony of masculine cries, low and guttural, filled the air as Hayden surrendered himself to your oral attentions. His fingers tangled almost desperately in your hair, anchoring himself to this earth as you pushed him towards the heavens. Moans and whimpers tumbled from his lips, a fervent, instinctive plea for you to keep going, to never stop, his body trembling with the intensity of his pleasure. The sound of your name fell from his lips like a prayer, a benediction, a desperate entreaty. In that moment, you were his religion, his reason for worship, his everything.
• Though the years had begun to etch their subtle lines upon Hayden's handsome face and his body no longer sprang back to rigid attention as readily as in his youth, his desire for you remained undiminished, a relentless force that laid siege to your senses. He may not match your youthful vigor in speed, but he more than made up for it in skill and ardent devotion. Hayden's tongue, a masterful instrument honed by years, could bring you to the brink of rapture with a single, languid caress. He took his time, savoring every flush, every fold, his lips painting a roadmap of pleasure upon your silken flesh. He feasted on your pussy as if it were the nectar of the gods, his blue eyes flickering up to drink in the sight of your abandon, your back arched, your fingers fisted in his blonde hair. He reveled in the taste, the scent, the very essence of your arousal, losing himself in the act of loving you, of worshipping you with every skillful sweep of his tongue. Slow and steady, he stoked the flames of your desire, his own lust burning hotter with each throaty moan he drew from your lips. Age had not cooled Hayden's passion, but only refined his technique, honing him into a connoisseur of your every fleeting taste and texture. He was a maestro at the podium, orchestrating your pleasure with the singular obsession of a man who knew he was playing for an audience of one - you. And as he pleasured you, he made it his personal mission to grow hard again, to rise to the occasion until he filled you once more, his body a testament to his bottomless, enduring love.
#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen x you#hayden christensen x female reader#hayden christensen headcanons#hayden christensen headcanon#hayden christensen fanfiction#hayden christensen fluff#hayden christensen smut
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ BACKSTAGE SHOW — LYNEY.
contents. fem! reader, minors and ageless blogs do not interact, fingering, handjobs, unprotected + semi public sex, creampie
lyney, as all his charisma and charm suggests, is a risk taker—it’s why he has you pinned against the wall like this, backstage right before a show.
he shouldn’t. you shouldn’t. you both shouldn’t—but you will.
“lyney,” you warn, pulling away from his lips as he kisses you, hungry, needy, desperate, “we can’t—not here.”
he smirks a little against your mouth, let’s that smooth chuckle of his fan against your lips as he pecks them lightly. he’s amused when his brows quirk up and he stares at you like he has you cornered—he technically does.
“oh? can’t we?” he muses, “i guess not everyone is a fan of big audiences like me—don’t worry,” he presses a kiss to your jaw, “the stage is all ours here.”
“but anyone could walk by—”
“if we’re quick, everyone will be preoccupied—just like i planned it,” he winks.
of course. of course he’d plan to have everyone occupied just long enough that he could fuck you right behind the stage of his own show. you shouldn’t be surprised, yet here you are, gaping at him like he’s insane.
maybe he is, you think, maybe that’s why his tricks are so impressive—he’s not afraid to make a dangerous decision here and there.
“but—”
“i’m awfully nervous for this show,” he pouts, head falling back theatrically as he sighs, “i wish there was a way for me to relax before such a big performance. just to help calm my nerves—oh! wait,” he pretends to light up with an idea, hand squeezing at your tit as he grins, “i suppose there is one way.”
“you’re too much,” you groan.
it’s too late, his victorious grin is already flashing at you as he tugs down your pants, pushing the fabric of your underwear to the side before his finger brushes against your slit. he smiles smugly at the way you’re dripping already, slipping two fingers past your folds and deep into your cunt.
he watches you intently, stares at every reaction, every flutter of your eyes and every part of your lips, taking in the soft gasps as he brushes against that tender spot deep into your walls.
“look at that,” he coos, “you sure know how to put on a show of your own—much better than me, in fact.”
“l-lyney,” you pant, rolling your hips to meet his fingers as they thrust into you. you whine when his palm rolls against your clit, coating his hand in your slicked arousal.
“this is my favorite show,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple as his fingers sink in and out of your dripping core, “it’s such a shame no one else gets to see this—you’d be more popular than me.”
“you’re shameless,” you gasp—but you cut yourself off with a whimper when he curls his digits just right as they bully into you. you can feel his erection poke through his shorts, pressing against your thigh as he leans closer.
“now now,” he mumbles, sucking soft marks into your neck, “you might want to hurry—otherwise we won’t have time for the main act.”
just like that, you fall apart, right there in the back of the stage, not far from a crowd of people waiting to see the same person who’s knuckles deep into your pussy. you gasp, choking on a broken wail of his name as he works you through your high, thrusting into you as you squeeze around his fingers.
you’re breath is erratic—harsh as you breathe and stare into his amused eyes.
and then you don’t waste a second—slipping his pants down just enough to free his strained cock, flushed and pink and swollen at the tip as it leaks with pre cum. you smear it along the head, taking your time to slowly stroke him as he lets out a breathy gasp, head falling into your shoulder as his hips buck into your touch.
“i’m honored you enjoyed my performance,” you hum, “but i think the real performer is always you.” you’re grinning, turning your head and kissing right over his braid.
he chuckles between pants, moans low against your ear and sends shivers through your heated body with every sound he makes. you can’t wait any longer—and something tells you he can’t either, not with the way his hand gently replaces yours, guiding his stiff cock so that his tip is grazing your slit.
“trust me,” he breathes softly, tone much gentler this time, “this isn’t like my performances. this is real—” and then he’s pushing into you, right past your folds and sinking deep into your cunt where his tip kisses that sweet spot at the back of your walls.
it feels real—it always does: the way he kisses you, the way his arms wrap around you, the way he breathes your name like it’s the most important thing he’s ever said. his hips pull back before they snap forward in a deep thrust, slamming his tip back to hit that spot that makes you curl your fingers and dig into his shoulder.
you can feel the drag of every vein against your walls, feel the friction burn pleasure through every nerve as his pelvis meets your clit and bumps against it. it’s good—he’s good, always knows just how to make you forget about your surroundings as all you feel is him.
“lyney,” you whimper, letting him press his mouth over yours to silence you, swallowing every sound you make as he rolls his hips and quivers over your body at the way you suck him in.
it’s a mess—your arousal smeared between your thighs, his glistening cock pulling out before sinking right back into you, filling the small room with the wet sound of him fucking you desperately. you pull him closer by his shirt, and he whines into your mouth as you clench around him after a particularly harsh roll of his hips.
“do you feel me?” he hums, groaning as his head pushes deeper into your neck, hiding into the crook of it as his lips press hot kisses into the skin, “‘cause i can feel you—feels good doesn’t it?”
“yes,” you mewl, fingers trailing to sink into his hair, pulling and making him whimper at the tug, “‘s good—so good.”
he’s close—you can tell from the first twitch of his cock, from the way his pace is sloppier and his body slumps more weight into you, soft whines and low gasps filling your ear as you near your own high. your hips snap up to meet his, pushing him deeper, harder against you and hitting your spot perfectly.
it’s enough to make you sob his name, enough to make you squeeze just tight enough as you cum to make him crash into his own orgasm too—hot, thick ropes of cum filling you to the brim, spilling down the sides of your thighs and being fucked right back into you as he works you both through your highs without stopping.
“c-cumming,” he chokes—lyney is always so perfect like this, so pretty and magnetic when he falls apart right there against your body, with strained whines and broken calls of your name pushing past his lips as pleasure takes over every inch of his body.
you’re not sure when his performance starts, or if anyone’s nearby to listen, or if they’ve already witnessed this show you’ve put on yourselves—but you don’t care. you’re too busy cumming around his cock to think about that at the moment.
he slumps over you as he finishes at the same time you do, panting, and out of breath. you whimper and he shudders when he pulls out, cum oozing down the side of your leg—and you think he might just be glowing at the sight, grinning before he looks up and meets your gaze.
“how perfect,” he hums, “now you have a token to know i’m thinking of you during my performance.”
it’s show-stopping—that wink of his, charming and enough to make you throb between your legs all over again as he presses a sweet peck to your lips before adjusting his clothes.
you roll your eyes, opening your mouth respond before—
“lyney,” you hear lynette’s voice call from the distance, “what’s taking you so long? you have to be on soon.”
“be right there,” he calls, twirling his hat before setting it on his head, as he looks at you smugly, “i was just getting over my nerves, is all.”
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girl bye id let him fuck me on stage too why lie
#thirstee!#teepods.writings#thirsts.#lyney x reader#lyney x you#lyney smut#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact smut
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