#(not in this post but probably implied and also it's in the fic for sure so) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

httpsserene · 5 months ago

Note

Gosh please please please can you write something daniel x reader maybe inspired by too sweet by hozier when he thinks(some internal turmoil cuz he can't stay away from her) she's too sweet/innocent for him or something like but it turns out to be further from the truth?? I love love love your writing, i think about please's and thank you's at least three times a day since i read it. You're so immensely talented!!!

I'd really really appreciate it.

(i don't mind age gap(like up to 10years), some kinky smut or even a bit of morally grey characters as long as there are no explicit mentions of past relationships or cheating and etc., happy ending plss, and I won't mind if you add a pinch of "who did this to you")

Ly ly ly

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐓𝐒𝐀

Summary: She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes you never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows that the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of a relationship) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of. Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. implied sexual content. mild!yandere!reader. stalking. sabotage. angst with a happy ending. lando and max are here. not edited at all. mentioned alcoholism. pov switch. fights? idk danny gets his ass beat. possessive!reader. can you find the hozier inspo in here? probably. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader (black-coded? but not mentioned in the fic, i think) Word Count: 2.7k words.

Author’s Notes: okay! this is past me (6/11) hoping that the tumblr queue doesn’t do me dirty! this should be posted on thursday, because i won’t be able to manually post it on my own as i’ll be hiking in san diego the whole day :p

this was formatted on mobile so please ignore how ugly it looks :( and also ignore the ugly writing i’ve never written dark/morally gray characters so i’m pretty sure i did your request like terribly LMAO. um also i couldn’t find a way to write smut into it? so again i apologize for that :/

anyways, please bare with me. i’ll make it pretty when i get back to my computer…on sunday 🥴

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

Daniel meets you in the elevator. At first, he thought you were a Formula One fan who snuck into the condo trying to get a glimpse of your favorite driver (himself, obviously) but, he learned that you’re his new next-door neighbor. It was awkward; he accused you of following him to his room and felt like the world’s worst person when you—dressed in the cutest pink dress and matching flowy bow tied in your hair—stared at him terrified, before you unlocked the door to your flat and slammed the door behind you quickly without a word.

He sent you a bouquet of pink orchids the next morning, along with a hand written card apologizing for his rude behavior and that he hoped the two of you could become good neighbors and friends. It seemed all was fixed, as the next time he ran into you, you greeted him softly, like nothing had happened. It was 5 A.M: you were starting your day and Daniel was ending his night.

Daniel was on his third drunken attempt of shoving his key vaguely in the direction of his lock on the door, when you exited your flat with a yoga mat over your shoulder and a water bottle that was comically large. With a hushed ‘good morning,’ you kindly helped Daniel into his apartment, telling him to drink a big glass of water and have pain killers ready when he wakes up; there was no judgment in your wide brown eyes, only tenderness, and a slight hint of worry. He woke up after twelve at the sound of a knock, his head pulsing with pressure and his sight slightly blurry from not quite sleeping all the drunk away.

He eventually made it to his front door and found that you ordered him lunch: a chicken wrap and sweet potato chips, from one of his favorite brunch cafés—Daniel figured you have good taste, as he doesn’t recall ever telling you about this meal in either of the two interactions you’ve had. So, he ate, drank plenty of water, freshened up, and debated if he should go over and express his gratitude, or whatever. He decided he will, and found himself putting on a nice watch and a few too many sprays of his expensive smelling cologne. Daniel didn’t let any thoughts of why he was prettying himself up cross his mind; he’s simply thanking you; a girl far too young, and probably far too sweet for his tastes.

You brushed off his thanks shyly, hidden behind your door with a blush strong enough Daniel saw it paint your dimpled cheeks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Thinking quick enough to rival his reflexes, he offered to exchange phone numbers so the two of you could meet up and he could buy you a coffee. You entered your name in his phone with a yellow heart next to it.

The coffee meet-up had to wait due to Daniel’s hectic schedule, yet the texting flourished. He initiated the beginning of your text thread the next day, mindlessly texting you about how he overheard Emilio (another neighbor) arguing with his wife on the phone; Daniel said she’s probably going to mail him divorce papers within the next week. You replied that it was mean to eavesdrop and gossip. Daniel followed up saying it’s not eavesdropping if said person was screaming into his phone in the hallway, and he wasn’t gossiping, he’s merely keeping you informed.

Daniel laughed in the middle of his motorhome listening to the voice message you sent four days later, eagerly telling him about how you saw Emilio in the lobby with a couple boxes and without a wedding ring on his finger.

It was a warm morning, when you and Daniel finally managed to meet for coffee. You scrunched your nose in distaste when he ordered plain black coffee; Daniel did the same when you ordered a drink that was mainly milk and sugar. Daniel chuckled when you claimed the amount of coffee in your drink had you wired for the rest of the day. He decided to let you believe that, and not inform you that it was most likely the sugar content that had you crashing hours later.

Daniel invited you over for burgers one night and you comment that his home looks like a mix of a “mojo dojo casa house” and a “minimalistic hell.” You gifted him a throw blanket and a potted plant the next day, and continued to text him reminders about watering it.

Around 10 P.M. on another night, he’s yelling at Max for cheating at fifa. Max laughed around the lip of his beer bottle before the two of them paused at the sound of a knock. Daniel checked the door and opened it to see you: fuzzy slippers, eye-mask on your forehead, bonnet, matching pajama set, and pout on your lips with a sleepy tilt to your eyebrows. He apologized for the noise and promised to quiet down. Daniel threatened to kick the Dutchman out when he teased him for having a “crush.” He doesn’t get crushes, he’s a grown man.

Daniel spends less time in night clubs and more time with you. You took him to sip and paint nights, pottery classes, hiking, even bookstores. You order him to not open any of the books he’s holding for you; Daniel tries to take a peek when you scan through one and you slam the book shut, saying it’s too dark for your liking. He doesn’t comment when you end up getting it (Daniel paid).

He kissed you in your apartment, halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. He proceeded to tell you it was a mistake. You teared up when he said you were too pure for him, arguing back that you weren’t a child. The tears fell when Daniel claimed he’s too old for you, that he’d only hurt you. He returned to his apartment, figurative tail tucked between his legs, and heard you crying through the wall. He fell asleep hating himself.

Daniel distanced himself from you; he misses your shared adventures and condo gossip, but he never forgets to water your potted plant, even without your texts. He fell back into the clubs, bringing home various women but never manages to get them in bed due to various things going wrong. He gets stuck in the elevator with Stephanie who happened to claustrophobic for hours, locked in the stairwell with Sofia who sprains her ankle in five-inch heels, the fire-alarm interrupts him and Kiana just as he unlocks the door, and his kitchen sink burst when he lifted Laura on the counter.

He tries to console Laura, who runs from his flat in drenched clothes, and sees you staring at her in confusion from your doorway as she rushes past. Daniel apologizes for waking you again, and you shrug, ignoring his words, murmuring that he should call maintenance before he floods the entire floor and shutting your door in his face.

Your potted plant starts to wilt, no matter if Daniel moves it in or out of direct sunlight, if he waters it less or more, or if he changes the soil, or adds fertilizer. The universe has it out for Daniel.

He finds himself in an ultra-private lounge, dim-lighting, sultry piano, and dark decor enhancing his dramatics as he reveals how he ruined his life to Max, Lando, and the bartender who will be tipped handsomely for pretending to care. The piano fades to the end of the piece just as Daniel wraps up his lament.

“It sounds like you deserve it, honestly,” Max stated bluntly, Lando nodding agreeably at his side.

Daniel groans into his hands, lifting his head to say that he’s already aware of that, but freezes when he sees you rise from the seat of the piano. Your figure is snug within a floor length, backless, black dress, complemented with gold jewelry, and makeup that opposes your angelic nature. You bow your head slightly in the direction of the tables clapping at your performance, stumbling briefly when your eyes meet Daniel’s. You smile softly and begin to make your way over to him.

“Oh, fuck,” Daniel shrinks into his seat, as the other two drivers stare at him in confusion.

“Hi, neighbor,” you start airily, before turning to smile at Lando and Max, “Hello.”

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” Daniel mentions.

“You never asked,” you narrow your eyes at him, before relaxing, “I also don’t work here—this is my brother’s bar. The pianist suddenly fell sick and I offered to fill in.”

“Oh,” Daniel hums, “This doesn’t seem like your type of scene.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You should know better than to tell me where, what, or who I do or do not belong with.”

“Okay!” Lando claps, kicking Daniel’s shin under the table, everyone ignores his muffled groan of pain, “Sit with us for a minute, if you can take a break. Danny is seriously obsessed with you.”

You take the offered chair next to Max and sigh, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” all three men wince at your dig, but you continue, “Did he tell you that he almost flooded the entire floor last week?”

Daniel watches as you charm his friends, the three of you chattering happily over his demise, and ignoring him as you do so. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, only thankful, as this is the first time in weeks that you’ve been in his presence for more than five minutes. You smell so good. Is that weird of Daniel to think?

Unfortunately, the four of you are interrupted far too soon. Your brother calls you over from behind the bar; his expression is less than pleased, jaw tensed with irritation, and Daniel thinks the look in his eyes has a hint of crazy. He wonders if you told your brother about him. Hopefully not—the man looks like he could fold Daniel like a lawn chair without breaking a sweat. The three men watch as you argue with your brother; it doesn’t seem like it’s going in your favor.

Lando calls Daniel’s name, “Mate—she’s good for you.”

“Nah, mate. I’ll only ruin her.”

“Daniel,” Max scolds, “The few months you were ditching us for her were the happiest I’ve seen you. I wasn’t worried that you would be passed out in a random club or yacht after giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”

“She’s sweet, Danny. I think she’s exactly what you need,” Lando adds, “You've convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. She’s trying to prove you wrong and you need to let her.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, he chooses to shake his head and remain silent. You make your way over to the table again and stand in front of them with a pout.

“It’s past my bedtime, apparently,” you huff, turning your head to glare at your brother, “Don’t worry about paying tonight, it’s on the house.” You exchange polite goodbyes with Lando and Max, Daniel gets a soft smile. He watches you leave the bar with a sad tilt to his lips, then orders a shot of whiskey.

You’re sat on your couch, freshly showered and ready for bed. It’s 1 A.M. and Daniel usually doesn’t end his nights out for another hour. So, it makes sense for you to be worried when you see his location nearing your shared condo building an hour early. Did you sneakily (his phone password is his birthday, it wasn’t that hard) use his phone and share his own location with you? Yes. But, you did it with good intentions. You worry about him when he’s not with you.

You decide to go down to the lobby and pretend to ask if you received any packages in hopes of intercepting Daniel when he walks in. You don’t manage to step out of the elevator when you suddenly have an armful of a bruised-up Australian. His lip is busted and you can see a bruise blooming high on his right cheekbone. You start to shake with anger.

Furiously pressing the button of your floor and slamming the ‘close door’ button, you frantically question Daniel, “What the hell? I left you not even two hours ago, and you look like a mess. Did you get into a fight, did you get mugged, did you—“

“Did your brother beat my ass for hurting you?” Daniel groans, not fighting your motions as you tug him out of the elevator and into your flat, “Yes, he did.”

You pause and grumble angrily, forcing Daniel to take a seat on your couch. You rush into your kitchen for ice, then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. He doesn’t fight when you order him to ice his cheek, and lets you hold his face to tilt his head at every angle possible, as if it’ll expose any more damage. Eventually, you end up looking into his eyes, pretending that you have the knowledge to know what a possible concussion looks like, even though you really just wanted an excuse to look at him.

Unconsciously, your thumb rubs soothingly along his temple, Daniel leans further into your hand. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, and he flinches when it disturbs the cut on his bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, you clear the haze from your eyes and frown as you turn to rifle through the first aid kit.

“I can’t believe he put his hands on you,” you bite out angrily, finding a disinfectant cloth to clean his lip, “I don’t know why I tell him anything anymore.”

Daniel winces at the sting of alcohol, remaining quiet as he watches the focus that covers your expression.

“I apologize for him,” you mumble, “He doesn’t think clearly when it comes to me, he thinks he’s like my guard dog or something,” you dispose of the wipe and grab an ointment, “I promise you I told him that the only thing you did was waste my time and hurt my feelings,” Daniel deflates under your hands, “It’s not like you physically hurt me…or anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll kill him.”

At that, Daniel laughs quietly, dropping the ice from his cheek so you can clean that too, “Don’t say that. You’re such a sweetheart, you couldn’t hurt your own brother. Also—I’m not sure if he hoped this would make me stay away from you, because if you keep rubbing my face like that, I might fall in love.”

You hum, pleased you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, “Have some decorum, Daniel. You sound desperate. Also, he knows that I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Oh? You’re possessive,” Daniel teases, “Is it bad if I kinda like that?”

Your heart flutters, he’s really the best for you. He doesn’t need to know about the lengths you went to ensure any of the girls he tried to bring home didn't make it into his bed. It's a shame Sofia sprained her ankle; that was not intentional on your part.

You shrug lightly, “No, it’s not bad. I think it makes you perfect for me. As long as you don’t mind a little crazy. And—don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have to apologize for making me cry.”

Daniel nods seriously, “I’ll fall to my knees and beg right now, if that’s what it takes.”

Sticking a plaster over his cheek, you stand and gesture for him to do so too, “Okay. Kneel.”

“Huh,” he chokes, eyes wide with disbelief, “You’re serious?”

“If you beg well enough, I’ll let you eat me out.”

The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoes.

2k special taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @mindless-rock @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @riveristhebest1 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-random @multi-fandom-rando @dreamingofautopia @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @userlandonorris @starfusionsworld @hangmandruigandmav @itsmiamalfoy @ineedafictionalman @everythingabby101 @valent1na-ferrari @dark-night-sky-99 @svinzlec @angelfreckless @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25

#serene’s chapters.#httpss :// 2k special #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 x reader #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: dr.

413 notes · View notes

pedrospatch · 2 years ago

Text

not a thing l part ii

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

part i

summary: You fess up and tell Joel about how Ellie overheard the two of you during the private moment you two had in the woods; Ellie confronts Joel about you while you’re asleep in the truck.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. IMPLIED AGED GAP (no specific age mentioned for reader, Joel is canon age) Joel is kind of an asshole, Ellie is a wiseass, mentions of Tess.

word count: 4.7k

a/n: decided to write a second part to the first Joel fic that i ever wrote! i am so, so stunned that one fic turned into more and that people actually want to read my stuff for Joel/TLOU. thank you all sm for everything and for interacting with me and my content. it means a ton!

“Think this might be a good time to stop?” Joel asked you, quietly.

You hummed, glancing back over at Ellie through the rearview mirror.

Even through the darkness inside the small cab of the pickup truck, it was almost too painfully obvious as to how fucking exhausted the girl was and how much this journey had already taken out of her after only just a few days on the road. Although she was on the smaller side and had an ample amount of space to stretch out her limbs, lay down, and get a decent night’s sleep in the backseat of the truck while you and Joel both took turns driving through the night, Ellie had expressed to you on more than one occasion that she’d rather stop to make temporary camp somewhere for a few hours and continue the drive in the morning once everyone had the chance to take a break. You honestly couldn’t blame her, not even if you tried—it was taking its toll on you too, a lot more than you let on to both Joel and especially to Ellie.

Being the adult, you kept your complaints to yourself, but the truth of the matter was that at the end of each day, you were also getting sick and tired, so damn sick and tired, of the ungodly amount of time that you were spending cooped up in the pickup, just sitting on your ass.

Sure, it may have been a little bit of extra work and it was keeping the three of you from reaching Wyoming as fast as Joel would have liked given the nature of the smartass, teenaged cargo you two had on your hands—but you also preferred to stop and make camp for the night.

After realizing that Joel was still waiting for a response, you nodded.

“Yeah, we should probably call it for the night,” You told him, glancing down at the map of the country in your hands. The three of you made it to the state of Indiana; Missouri was your next planned stop to find gas to siphon and refuel, and even though it was just a little less than six hours away, you figured an early morning wakeup call could have you all there by tomorrow afternoon. “Only problem about a state like Indiana is that it’s flat as fuck. There’s nothing but wide, open grassy fields around here.” You peered out of the window, then turned back to Joel, frowning. “Think we’ll find a safe enough spot?”

“We’re just gonna have to make do with what we got,” Joel stated as he carefully veered the vehicle off of the highway and to the left, onto the aforementioned grassy field. “You think about a mile out from the highway is decent enough? Mile and a half, maybe?”

“Let’s make it two,” You suggested. You neatly folded up the map and stuck it into the glove compartment in front of you. “I doubt we’ll run into anyone or anything out here in the middle of nowhere, but might be best not to risk being too close to the highway, just in case.”

He looked over at you, nodding his head in agreement. “Two it is.”

“Aww, teamwork,” Ellie teased from the backseat. “How fucking cute.”

“It’d be real cute if you’d shut up,” Joel quipped. Once he pulled the truck about a couple of miles out onto the field, he came to a stop and then cut the engine. “We’re gonna take a breather for a few hours,” he said to Ellie over his shoulder. “But only for a few hours, and not a minute more. Come sunrise, we need to get movin’ again, understood?”

She saluted him. “Aye aye, Captain. Whatever you say.”

The second that you hopped out of the pickup, you started shivering. The chilly evening breeze nipped at any patch of exposed skin it could find. The days had been pretty decent, but at night, the temperatures would drop drastically—it couldn’t have been warmer than forty or so degrees. Instinctively, you reached into the top of your pack, pulling a second jacket you carried for yourself out of it. You handed it over to Ellie and instructed her, “Put this on. Cordyceps infection might not have taken you out, but hypothermia will.”

She took it from you, shooting you a tiny, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

Joel eyed the interaction, his lips pursed together in displeasure.

He didn’t want you and Ellie getting attached to one another, but he feared it was too late. The girl had taken an instant liking to you and you seemed to have taken a liking to her too. “Here.” He tossed Ellie her blue sleeping bag. “Go lay down on the other side of the truck.”

“I’m already so fucking itchy just thinking we have to sleep here.” Ellie wrinkled her nose down at the grass under her shoes. Lifting her head, she took a glance around before turning her attention to you. It was written all over her face, evident in the way she started to shuffle nervously from foot to foot; she was afraid. “I feel so exposed. Are we really going to be safe? There’s fucking nothing out here, not even a single tree. What if someone finds us while we’re all sleeping?”

Before you could reassure her, Joel stepped in.

“No one is goin’ to find us out here,” he grouched. “We’ll be safe. Now quit your complainin’ and go get settled for the night. And don’t even think of askin’ me for a fire in the middle of a goddamn field. Got it?”

Ellie rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, it’s fine. You know, I’m actually kinda starting to get used to freezing my fucking ass off anyway.”

You lifted a hand to your mouth, trying to hide your snort of laughter.

She was too fucking quick for her own good.

Joel glared at you. “What? You think she’s funny?”

“Actually, I think she’s fucking hilarious,” You shrugged, causing him to let out an exasperated sigh. “What? It’s true! She’s made me laugh more in the last week than I have in the last two fucking decades.”

Ellie beamed at you. “At least someone still has a sense of humor.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he snapped, irritably. “Both of you.”

She leaned over towards you, muttering the question right under her breath, “Jesus, has he always been this fucking crabby?” She nudged your shoulder with hers. “You must have the patience of a fucking saint to be able to deal with this on the daily. I would have killed him by now and then offed myself too with that fucking attitude.”

He stepped towards her. “What’d you just say—”

“Ellie.” Although you tried your hardest to reprimand her, instead, you found yourself fighting back another laugh. “Come on, let’s go before he strangles us both.” Taking her arm, you started leading her around to the other side of the truck. Dropping her arm, you reached for your own sleeping bag from the bed of it and started rolling it out. Though you were still fighting back a fit of giggles, you found it in you to offer her some words of advice. “Ellie, I know Joel is not the easiest person to deal with, but you really have to stop giving him so much shit, kid. The man has enough gray hair as it is. Take it easy on him, will you?”

“But I need to keep myself entertained somehow,” she replied with a small, innocent shrug of her shoulders. She unrolled her own sleeping bag, laying it out right beside where you had laid out yours; you saw a pensive look cross her face and after a second, she moved it closer to yours, leaving about a one inch gap of space between the two. For as scared shitless as you had been to take someone like her under yours and Joel’s care, the mere fact that Ellie seemed to feel safer being so close to you must have meant you were doing something right.

“Jacket,” You reminded her.

“I know, I know.” Ellie tugged on the spare jacket that you’d given her just minutes ago, zipping it up to her chin. She yawned, crawling into her sleeping bag. Before rolling over onto her side, she stopped and a tiny, tired smirk tugged at her lips as she looked up at you. “Wait. You and Joel aren’t going to bone each other tonight, are you? Because I might actually have to suffocate myself in this thing if you do.”

You sighed heavily. “And here I thought you were actually going to do me the favor of never bringing it up ever again.”

“What can I say? Giving you shit is almost as fun as giving it to Joel.”

You nudged her lightly with the toe of you worn, brown leather boot, chuckling as you told her, “Go to sleep, you little jerk.”

“Remember. Protection.” Ellie yawned again, rolling over. “G’night.”

“Goodnight, Ellie.”

The minute that you heard her soft snores coming from inside of the bag and you were certain she was asleep, you made your way back to the other side of the truck where you found Joel busy loading up and checking his rifle. Thankfully, hadn’t seemed to have heard what Ellie had just said to you. “I’ll take watch tonight,” You offered, holding out your hands and beckoning for the weapon. You instantly noticed the all too familiar look of protest on his face. “Joel, you were the last one to drive today and you’re fucking exhausted. Just let me take watch.”

“The whole damn point of me drivin’ all the way out here was so we can all get some rest without worryin’ about anyone findin’ us,” Joel reminded you. “And besides, I wasn’t plannin’ on standin’ watch. I was just makin’ sure this was ready to go, in case of an emergency.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Joel, please. I know you like I know the back of my own goddamn hand and I already know that I’m going to wake up in the middle of the night and I’m going to find you standing watch, regardless of how safe you say we are in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.” You continued holding your hands out for the rifle. “Look, my arms are getting tired here. Can you just give me the fucking gun please?”

“You need sleep—”

“We can swap places in a couple hours,” You compromised. “Deal?”

Knowing that you could be just as stubborn as he was, Joel grumbled something incoherently under his breath before finally shoving it into your waiting hands.

“Thank you. Now, was that really so hard?”

Joel scoffed, shoving past you. He reached into the bed of the truck and grabbed his own sleeping bag. “You really need to stop talkin’ to the kid so much. She’s startin’ to rub off on you and I don’t like it.”

“Sweet dreams, Joel,” You replied, watching as he stalked around to the other side of the Chevy where Ellie was fast asleep.

An hour later, you found yourself leaning against the cab of the truck, the sound of chirping crickets your only companion. You held the rifle gently, but still firmly in your grasp, your index finger gingerly resting on the trigger. You tilted your head backwards, gazing up at the stars in the velvet night sky—you tried not to let your mind wander off very far, but you couldn’t help thinking of what Ellie had said to you earlier that morning back in the woods.

He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you.

She was wrong. She had to be wrong. She was fourteen, she was just a kid, after all. Besides, what the fuck could she possibly know about you and Joel, especially after only having been with the two of you for about a week?

Ellie was sorely mistaken.

Joel only kept you around for his benefit.

And the meaningless sex wasn’t the benefit you were referring to.

Joel had always been the brawn, but both you and Tess had been the brains of the operation. That’s how it had always been, at least for the better part of the last few years. You might have been on the younger side in comparison to your smuggling partners, but for some reason, Tess had seen something in you—what it had been, you never had the opportunity to find out, but it made her take a chance on you.

Against Joel’s wishes, she decided that she would take you under her wing; at eighteen years old, you’d been closer to being a child than an adult, but that only meant your mind was still pliable, and she could work with it. By the time you reached your twenties, it was apparent that Tess had all but molded you into a miniature clone of herself—she’d shown you how to think outside the box, taught you how to be persuasive, how to keep trades or deals from going south, and most importantly, what to do if they somehow did go south.

Now that she was gone, you were all that Joel had left. You were what he was stuck with. After Tess died, there was a part of you that had to wonder if Joel felt the wrong person had been infected and killed. It’s not that you thought that Joel would rather it was you who were dead but the reality was that if he’d been given the choice between having you or Tess at his side for this, you were certain it wouldn’t be you.

But he hadn’t gotten a choice.

It was you he ended up with, and you were his only shot at getting to Tommy and getting Ellie to where she needed to be. He needed help, and now that Tess was no longer here, you were the next best thing.

That was it.

A rustling sound nearby pulled you out of your train of thought. You immediately lifted your head and pushed yourself away from the cab, readying your weapon. You took quiet, careful steps and then sharply turned the corner around the bed of the truck, aiming the rifle at the figure in front of you with your finger still on the trigger.

“Fuckin’ relax!” Joel hissed at you, holding his hands up. “It’s me!”

“Jesus Christ!” You exhaled a sharp breath, lowering the gun. You narrowed your eyes at him. “You scared the fucking shit out of me, Joel! I just about shot your head off of your shoulders!”

“Your aim ain’t all that good, darlin’,” Joel stated as he walked up to you, a slight hint of amusement in his Southern drawl. “You keepin’ watch or zonin’ out over here?”

You ignored his teasing remarks. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as Joel fell into step in front of you, an all too familiar lustful glimmer in his eyes.

“Couldn’t really sleep,” he stated with a shrug of his is shoulder. “Had somethin’ on my mind. But from the looks if it, I ain’t the only one lost in thought.” He peered down at you. “What were you thinkin’ about, anyhow?”

“Nothing,” You fibbed. “Just, uh, just how fucking cold it is.”

Joel reached for the rifle, taking it out of your hands. He leaned over and placed it in the bed of the truck behind you. “And you tell me that I’m a shitty liar?” he asked with a small scoff. “Let’s pretend that for a minute that I actually believe that’s what you were really thinkin’ about.” With every word that he spoke, his voice became lower, huskier. “If the cold is what’s on your mind, I know a couple different ways I can help get your mind off of it.”

“Joel—”

“C’mere.” He hooked his index fingers through two of the front belt loops of your blue jeans, yanking you forward until you came crashing against his chest. He dipped his head, his lips eagerly meeting an exposed patch of skin on your neck. As he kissed and nipped at the delicate flesh, he started to move his hands from the belt loops of your jeans over to the buttons instead.

“Joel, wait,” You mumbled weakly, cursing how your body just always seemed to melt right in his fucking hands. “Joel, stop.” You’d said it so softly into his failing right ear that he hadn’t heard you.

Joel’s mouth left your neck, finding your own mouth instead in a way that made every single nerve in your body light on fire. He started to walk you backwards until your back hit the bed of the pickup, a soft thud noise filling the air around you. He pinned you tightly between it and himself as he kissed you fiercely, hungrily. The physically intimate moments that you two shared over the years had always been relatively short due to never having the time nor the place, but maybe that’s why he kissed you the way that he did—with such urgency, with such desperation, as if his fucking life depended on it. Because it never lasted as long as he would have liked and he never knew when he would be able to get his hands on you again.

Breaking away from you slightly, Joel placed his hand on your hip, his index finger grazing the soft skin right above the waist of your jeans as he murmured breathlessly against your lips, “I want you. I gotta have you. Right fuckin’ now.”

It took just about every last ounce of strength that you had inside you to place both of your hands on his chest and gently push him back. “I don’t think we should do this, Joel. Not with Ellie being so close by.”

“She’s asleep.” He frowned, taking your hands off of his chest as he took several steps back from you looking dejected. “Unless you just don’t want—”

You were quick to stop him. “Of course I want you.” You swallowed, your throat having gone dry. “It’s just that—see, the thing is that—”

“Fuckin’ spit it out.”

So you do.

“Ellie knows, Joel.”

“What?” Even in the darkness, you could see the color draining from his face. “How?”

“Look, I really didn’t want to tell you about this. But last night in the woods when we were—” You trailed off, shifting your weight from one foot to the other almost anxiously.

“She saw us?”

“She heard us,” You corrected him. “She confronted me about it this morning before we left. I pretty much made her promise to keep her mouth shut because I didn’t want her saying anything to you about it. I didn’t want her giving you grief like she did to me.”

Joel ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That little fucking shit—”

“It’s not her fault, Joel. And you know that. We shouldn’t have done it with her being so close by.”

You watched as he dropped his hand from his head, his jaw clenched.

“Joel, come on. Please don’t be mad about this.”

Joel fixed his eyes on the ground and tightly shook his head. “Go get some sleep. I’ll take over watch.”

“But Joel—”

“Just drop it,” he said, rigidly, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “Go.”

Knowing better than to push it, you simply nodded. “Okay.”

The moment you crawled into your sleeping bag next to Ellie, you’d tried your absolute hardest to get some shut eye, but what happened with Joel had you much too worried, and rightly so. Still, you prayed for sleep to come, but it never did and the rest of the night dragged on for what felt like a fucking eternity.

Hours later, when sunrise finally came around, you got up to find Joel had already been packing up the pickup truck, getting it ready for the long drive ahead. The second he saw you approaching him, he simply told you to wake Ellie because the three of you needed to get a move on sooner rather than later. After that, he’d hardly said another word to you.

He couldn’t even fucking look at you.

Halfway to Missouri, during a quick pitstop, Ellie had noticed the odd tension in the air between you and Joel. She’d also noticed how tired you looked. She offered to trade places and sit in as Joel’s copilot for the rest of the day, at least until you reached Kansas City.

“I think he’d actually prefer you as his copilot,” You’d muttered to her in reply, hopping into the backseat. Between the motion of the truck, the soft country music playing from another tape Ellie found, and the open windows bringing in fresh, crisp air, you’d curled up into a little ball in the backseat and passed out within minutes.

Ellie glanced over her shoulder at you, making sure you were actually asleep before turning to Joel. “She told you, didn’t she?”

“Zip it,” Joel ordered. “Ain’t none of your business.”

Ellie hummed. “Well, seeing as I had the absolute delightful pleasure of having to hear the two of you go at it like a couple of cats the other night, I think it actually is kind of my business now.” She paused. She could physically feel the way he was wincing beside her, though what was causing him to be so uncomfortable was left to be determined. Ellie would imagine that it was getting caught in the act itself, but for some reason, she sensed there was a lot more to this mess than met the eye and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. “She told me that you guys aren’t a thing—”

“We’re not a thing. We’re nothin’ at all, alright?”

Ellie blew a raspberry. “Yeah, alright. I see you’re both sticking to that story. That you’re not a thing.” She raised her fingers in quotations.

“It ain’t a story, it’s the truth. We’re nothin’ more than just a couple of smuggling partners tryin’ to get you to where the you need to be.” He glanced at her briefly, then turned back towards the road. “And if you want to make it there unscathed, I suggest you shut your mouth and focus on that map in your hands instead stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I think I at least deserve an explanation after you two put me and my innocent little virgin ears through the wringer.”

“Ellie,” he warned.

It was almost kind of scary how she was already used him saying her name in that tone already. “You’ve been treating her shitty as fuck today, you know.”

Joel frowned. Even though he knew he didn’t need to defend himself to a fucking teenager, he found himself doing it anyway. “The hell are you talkin’ about? I haven’t said a single fuckin’ word to her today.”

“Exactly.” Ellie pointed her index finger at him. “It’s bothering her.”

“She’s a big girl, Ellie. If somethin’ is botherin’ her, then she can come and talk to me about it. She doesn’t need some kid helpin’ her out.”

“That’s the thing. She can’t talk to you about it.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Well, you’re not exactly the most approachable guy, dude.”

Joel gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Why the fuck do you care so much, anyway? You have other things to worry about. Like findin’ the fuckin’ Fireflies and helpin’ them create a vaccine that’s supposed to save the goddamn world.”

“Because,” Ellie said, refusing to allow him to change the subject, not when she felt like she was finally getting somewhere. “I like her. She’s a good person.”

Joel glanced up at the rearview mirror and looked at you as you slept soundly. He couldn’t deny that. Even in this shit world, even after the things you’d seen and all the people you’ve lost, you really were still a good person. You still hadn’t lost touch with your sense of humanity—that was one thing Tess never managed to change about you, the one thing that kept you from being identical to her, identical to Joel. You somehow hadn’t let this world turn you into stone, and maybe that is why you meshed well with them from the start. You brought this odd kind of balance that they hadn’t even known they needed.

That Joel didn’t know he needed.

“She likes you.” Ellie’s voice caused him to snap back to reality. “Lord fucking knows why.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, did I offend?” Ellie quirked an eyebrow, feeling a teeny smirk tug at the corners of her mouth. “Listen. All I’m saying is that she’s really young. And she’s really pretty. She’s nice, and smart as fuck, too. I bet she could probably have any guy that she fucking wants.” Her smirk only grew noticing how her words had gotten a rise out of Joel. Ellie could tell by the way his fingers had the steering wheel in a death grip, his knuckles ghost white. “And yet for some reason, she chooses to stick with you, you old fucker.”

“Listen here you little shit—”

She quickly held her hands up. “I’m just saying. She’s a good one, Joel.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I know she is.”

Bingo! Ellie thought to herself. Now we’re making progress.

“So, then why not treat her the way she deserves? Why just—what’s that saying? Hit it and quit it?”

Joel tossed a glare at her. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“I’m not wrong though. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Ellie prompted.

“No!”

“But just a minute ago you said you two were nothing. So if you two are boning, but you’re nothing, that’s like a hit it and quit it, isn’t it? Or is it a fuck it and chuck it? Hump it and dump it?” She scratched her head, wracking her brain as she tried to figure it out. Beside her, Joel was about ready to implode. “Wait a minute, that can’t be right because you guys do it all the time. You’re not actually quitting it. So, it’s hooking up, right?”

“I swear to Christ I’m gonna make you fuckin’ walk to Wyoming if you don’t shut—how the fuck do you know all that? That what they teach you kids in FEDRA school?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Ellie grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Level with me, old man. Do you like her or not?”

Joel’s teeth were gritted together, his sights fixed on the road ahead.

“Or do you love her?” She practically sang.

“Ellie.” He said her name warningly once again, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. The last thing he needed was for you to wake up and hear this conversation; thankfully you were still out cold.

Ellie waved a hand at him. “Oh relax, the woman’s sleeping like a bear in hibernation. Now, answer the fucking question.”

Joel didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond.

He willed himself to open his mouth and say something—anything.

But he just couldn’t. He’d been stumped by a fucking fourteen year old who was too damn smart for her own good.

“Interesting,” Ellie mused after a minute of silence, curiously rubbing her chin. “How you can’t even deny it. Very, very, interesting.”

Before Joel could even think, the sound of you moving around in the backseat caused him to jump, the internal panic flooding him in one single wave. As soon as he was certain you were still fast asleep, he let out a breath of relief and turned to Ellie. “Now, you listen here—”

“Ah, ah, ah.” She held up her finger to her lips. “Let’s not wake Sleeping Beauty back there.” She dropped her hand down into her lap and glanced out the window, grinning to herself. “Besides, I have the answer I was looking for anyway.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller hbo #tlou imagine #tlou fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n

4K notes · View notes

ataraxixia · 2 months ago

Text

❀～❀ 𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐀'𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ❀～❀

❦welcome to ataraxixia's kinktober event! it's my first time participating 'n I'll be posting fics weekly since I probably won't be able to write daily

❦note: some of these works may contain kinks that might not be for you, do not click on something you aren't comfortable with, much love

❦status: ongoing

❧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

❦important: some fics will feature up to 4 characters; two from genshin and two from hsr. y'all can send in a request with a character you'd want with a specific prompt/ day :> it'd probably be first come first served but don't be disappointed when your request hadn't made it through; I'll be sure to write other fanfics after kinktober <3 for obvious reasons, I won't write for any child characters or minors or characters implied to be minors, physically minors, etc. etc. yk the drill; also writing only men- I can't write women

❦if there aren't enough requests by the end of september 30th (which is the likely outcome) i'll add characters myself or simply write less

𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬 genshin impact: tartaglia honkai star rail: boothill 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟖: 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 + 𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 genshin impact: neuvillette honkai star rail: luocha ; aventurine 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟓: 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 + 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 genshin impact: kinich honkai star rail: dr. ratio 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐: 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 genshin impact: lyney honkai star rail: moze ; Argenti 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟗: 𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 genshin impact: zhongli honkai star rail: sunday ; jing yuan 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 : ??? genshin impact: ??? honkai star rail: ???

...some things I gotta say for the end: if someone can send me a message and tell me how to add the links for the fics will kiss your cheek :> also, feel free to ask to be tagged (´∀｀)♡

❧ataraxia

𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

150 notes · View notes

oh-no-its-bird · 2 months ago

Note

hi listen i just had a divine intervention or smth lmk if you don't like it but

what if your team Ro time travel au + my time travel Tobirama

Team Ro would have memories of the canon and they got to this different timeline and there's Tobirama actively trying to seduce Uchiha fucking Madara. They didn't teach THAT in the Academy

They got in the time when Tobirama still orchestrated meetings, but Butsuma is already dead so if everything goes well, Tobirama would get Madara and peace soon.

And then there suddenly spawn a Hatake with a sharingan with 2 Uchiha kids and a Mokuton user. Political nightmare.

Later Tobirama recognises Kakashi and was like "The fuck? It's that Hatake from the war. What is he doing there, he should not have been born yet!!"

OHHH THATS SO GOOD THO???

I'm gonna be real I love the concept of "team ro time travel au but they time travel into someone else's time travel au," that's so good

If we go with your au, there's a really interesting immediate aspect of like: hey ! Tobirama might recognize Kakashi or maybe even Tenzo from the war, but these guys are way fucking younger than when they met !!!

Idk what exactly can be done with that but it's interesting to consider. Also Tobirama talked ab Itachi and his crimes before I'm p sure? So like he knows what happens to the Uchiha and that it was Itachi who did it for the village. I wanna see him faced w the kid who he once praised for slaughtering his own clan to prove his loyalty.

I wanna see him feel the consequences of the stress Itachi is under when he (and possibly Shisui) attempt to kill Madara.

Stop interfering with his fix it fic you brats!! He's already got it covered!! You're just causing a mess!!!!

They get zapped in, like, in the middle of Tobirama's happy ending epilogue too. Tobirama is peacefully eating dinner in his house w his new husband Madara thinking "well. Alls well that ends well." Then BOOM Kakashi Shisui Itachi and Tenzo crash out of fucking nowhere directly onto their table, getting covered in food and breaking the table in half

Immediatley arrested !! I feel like Tobirama would instantly understand what happened by recognizing their uniforms + potentially Kakashi + he's already a time traveler himself so it's really no stretch for him to go "oh fuck I didn't think we'd get a double jepordy in this bitch but I guess not"

But like it's not like he can just SAY that ? Or he could but it would bring a lot of questions he probably does not want to answer.

Now another problem arises in like. I don't think Tobirama is especially attached to any of these guys. I can see him maybe having a lingering "pay it forward ig" feeling just bc they're "loyal konoha soldiers" and it'd be a waste to let that resource just burn. But also like. Under no circumstances can Tobirama have these guys share certain aspects of future knowledge.

Tobirama worked so hard to get here !!!! Literal years of planning !!!! He got his happy ending and it very much rests on Madara staying safe and sane and NO ONE IMPLYING HE WILL BETRAY KONOHA EVER !!!!! Tobirama does not even wanna RISK that becoming a rumor, he will take no chances.

Anyways I think his best course of action would be to reveal himself as a time traveler specifically to team ro, then position himself as their hokage who they should remain loyal to, say that it is for Konoha's best interests that they do not reveal certain things, and play it by ear from there.

Tobirama deciding he can't risk team ro going forward in time again and potentially fucking up the time stream or smthn. They need to stay here. He can not risk losing this shit. Sorry guys it looks like your trapped here <3

Anyways team ro being scary loyal to him bc he is the closest approximation to their (current?) Hokage and only person w the knowledge to enforce that power over them (at this time)

In my original post, like, all of team ro are already established to be kind of at their worst and most loyal to the village at that point to. They are at THE age(s) to be manipulated like that tbh, rip

It's not too bad tho. I think Itachi would feel relieved but also very guilty. Shisui too. Tenzo is violently neutral bc hes still in his "learning to be a real boy" phase from root, but it's all positive for him tbh. Kakashi is tricky bc his mental state is the equivalent of someone rapidly bouncing a ball on a thin pane of glass trying to prove it's bullet proof (it's not) and has like MOUNTAINS of complexes around the words "konoha authority figure" and what he's leaving behind. He's probably the most determined to go back

Anyways uhh. Izuna gets Itachi to help him be skeptical of Tobirama and spy on him. Itachi only agrees bc he violently reminds him of Sasuke (this will develop into a complex if not stopped. Shisui is working on it.)

144 notes · View notes

sugawhaaa · 3 months ago

Note

Can I request a yeosang x reader fic where she's been sexually active before but never been eaten out and not with someone big like Yeosang. So she asks Yeosang what oral feels like or a big cock feels like and he shows her instead. Accidentally making her squirter which she didn't know what a think while he fucks her

YEOSANG ONE-SHOT

☆~TONGUE TWISTER~☆

Warnings:: SMUT

Pairing:: soft!dom!yeosang x sub!fem!reader

Genre:: oral (fem) fingering, praise, teasing, edging, squirting (2x) , lil bit of a size kink, creampie

W/C:: 3,017

A/N:: I tweaked a few things from the request but I hope you still enjoy it 🙏 also I think I am officially finished of my break <3 I probably won't be posting as consistently as I used to be I'm back 💪

🎧::

Yeosang knew that you were new to all this sexual stuff but he didn't really know how inexperienced or experienced you were. He knew that he was your first and he “took” your virginity. He didn't want to push you into other things too early like bdsm or even implying sex toys into your time together. He didn't know what your previous lovers might have done with you either. Anything revolving around oral he never knew if you had received or given it before.

It had been a few months since you and Yeosang had sex for the first time. He was patiently waiting, not wanting to push you or rush you into things again but he felt a little worried when it got to about four months.

When you crawled into bed Yeosang dragged you closer to him. You were a little surprised but assumed he just wants cuddles. You snuggled into his chest as he draped an arm over your body. “Hey baby. I wanted to talk to you about something,” Yeosang says softly, trying not to sound intimidating.

“Sure baby, what's up?” You tilt your head and he thinks for a moment.

“When we had sex, did you enjoy it?” The question catches you off guard. You were expecting something way less deep than that.

“Of course,” you chuckle before meeting his gaze, looking up into his eyes. “Why? Is there something going on?” You rub his chest and he laughs softly.

“No, no, darling. I was just making sure since you haven't asked to try it again,” he pats your head with a laugh before kissing your forehead.

“Oh…I was waiting for you to say something,” you chuckle awkwardly and feel a thick tension growing in the room. “Why bring this up now though?”

“I've just been thinking,” he says before rolling his tongue around the inside of his bottom lip. “You were a virgin before we met, right?” He confirms and you nod. “And I was wondering if you've ever experienced…” he pauses as he rolls circles on your forearm. “Oral?” He finishes his sentence and you feel your heart skip.

In truth, you never experienced someone's mouth on you before. You always dreamed about getting eaten out and how it would feel to have someone's tongue inside you, even if it was only the tip of their tongue.

“Well…I haven't,” you pause and bite your lip, waiting for his response. You can tell just from his body language that he wants to eat you out so bad right now. He would do it in a heartbeat but he needs you to say it.

“Would you like to try it?” He looks at you eagerly and you blush. You nod softly and he smirks before running his finger along your chin. “I need to hear your words baby. What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to eat me out,” you look directly at him as you speak and he bites his lip.

“That's exactly what I wanted to hear my love,” he runs his hands down your body before shifting you so you lay on your back. “Just relax baby, I'll take good care of you,” he kisses your cheek softly before roaming his hands under your shirt, getting you all riled up. He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. He creeps his tongue into your mouth and circles his tongue around yours, flipping it as he does so.

You can't help but moan into the kiss. It was apparent he was experienced with his tongue and that was going to be the thing to make you break for him. He curled his tongue into yours and you whimpered softly. He pulls back and looks into your eyes, his hand coming up to stroke the side of your face. “Does that feel good?” He runs his opposite hand over your breast as he speaks. You nod with a smile.

“It feels strange but so good,” you chuckle and he smiles. He holds the side of your face and tilts your head up to look at him.

“Open your mouth,” he instructs in a low but calm voice. You do as he says parting your lips and opening your mouth slightly. “Stick out your tongue a little,” he rubs your temple as he speaks. As you poke your tongue out he slides his tongue into your mouth without touching your lips together. He runs his tongue over yours and you moan softly. He circles his tongue around yours again and you feel the heat growing between your legs.

You couldn't wait for him to do that to your clit. To your folds. To the inside of your walls. How much longer can you hold out before begging for him. He smirks before pulling back again. “Is my little doll eager?” He chuckles as he points out you rubbing your thighs together. You blush and look away. “It's okay baby, you can be greedy,” he leans down again and begins to lick along your jaw before kissing it. He sits back and pulls your shirt off to reveal your bare torso to him. He makes his way down to your breasts with little kisses and licks that make you arch your back.

Finally he reaches your tits and begins to suck and circle his tongue around your sensitive buds.

“Oh yes~” you moan softly and tangle your fingers into his hair. He chuckles against your soft skin as he pulls on your sensitive skin. The sensation was slightly painful but it had a strange tingle to it afterwards. His lips separate from your skin and he smiles.

“That feel good, baby? You comfortable?” He runs his hands down your torso as he speaks. You nod with a satisfied hum and he smiles. “Good,” he says before leaning back down to the other nipple, relentlessly attacking it as well. You let out a soft moan as he twirls his tongue around your nipple, using his flexible tongue ability to make you quiver.

“Please yeosang, I can't wait any longer,” you whine and he chuckles, popping his lips off of your bud.

“Alright, alright, I suppose I've teased you enough,” he chuckles as he leans back to take off your pants on panties. He moves slowly and gently, kissing you in between movements. “How wet are you hm?” He runs his thumb down your folds and you moan softly. His thumb glides swiftly and effortlessly. It was like you had put a whole bottle of lube on your folds. He can't help but chuckle as he sees your soaked state. “Oh my she is desperate, aren't you?” He says before pressing on your clit. You moan and bite your lip.

He sits up again and pulls his shirt off before situating himself just above your thighs. “Spread your legs baby,” you do as he asks instantly, not wanting to waste time. He blows softly on your clit and you whimper, clenching the bed sheets in your hand. “Relax baby,” he runs his fingers down your folds again. After what felt like an eternity he parted his lips, his tongue poking out as he creeped closer to your burning, aching core. You feel one last breath on your clit before feeling his tongue press against it.

His tongue was warm compared to the cold air he'd been blowing on you and the texture was just out of this world. It was like running the inside of a warm fruit on your folds. You can't hold back your gasps of amazement as he begins to flick his tongue up and down your core. Right from your clit down to your entrance. He didn't press through your folds yet, wanting to take things slow, but him flicking your clit was enough to make you squirm.

He smirks against you before beginning to suck on your sensitive skin and clit. Your legs threatened to close around him as he sucked and flicked your clit with his tongue. You grab a fistful of his hair and push your hips into his face slightly. He grabs the back of your thighs, allowing him to move more with more pressure and your legs jerk. He massages your thighs, silently telling you to relax. You feel him move back a bit before pouring out some spit onto your folds.

He spreads it around with his tongue, moving in flipping circles. Everytime your body tried to squirm away from his tongue his head would follow, never separating his tongue and lips from your body.

“Yeosang,” you moan softly as you toss your head back. He looks up at you, acknowledging the fact you said his name. He hummed softly against your folds as a response and you look down at him. “Please don't stop,” you whimper and he smirks before backing up to catch his breath.

“Wasn't planning on it,” he leans back down. He continues to roll his tongue over your folds. He then pokes his tongue at your entrance, the tip of his tongue slipping in as he rolls his tongue in a circle. You arch your back into his face and he holds you to his face. He goes back up to your clit, then tour folds, before slipping his tongue back inside you.

He continued this process before moving his head back and forth to and extra stimulation. He then eases one of his fingers inside you, curling it slowly. You moan uncontrollably as he pumps his finger into you and before you know it you feel the knot building in your stomach and as your body squirms Yeosang doesn't let you go. Every time your hips jerk around Yeosang follows you resulting in your orgasm approaching faster than expected but Yeosang doesn't stop.

Your legs reflexively lock around his head as your body shudders, your release pouring out of you into his lips. Yeosang continues pumping his finger into you, slowly adding another, as he flicks your clit. Something about the way he moved his tongue around your clit and to your folds made you want to scream in pleasure yet you couldn't breathe because the pleasure was that overwhelming. “Y-Yeosang,” you stutter out as a way to warn him of this orgasm. It felt different though. Like something more was about to be released and almost like…peeing?

No way were you going to pee, no that would be humiliating! Peeing on your boyfriend's face while receiving oral for the first time!? But you couldn't hold whatever this was in. It was uncontrollable and before you knew it the sound of liquid spraying out of you and hitting the floor filled your ears but it felt so fucking good. Your whole body was tingling in pure bliss and you couldn't hold back a smile as you laid there.

When you opened your eyes again you realized what had happened. Yeosangs face was quite literally, drenched. The hair around his face was wet and some of it even stuck to the sides of his face. Your fluids dripped down his chin and neck and you felt your head spin. This was a sight that you would never get tired of.

“So how was that?” He smirks before standing up. You were surprised by his abrupt urge to leave but he only grabbed a cloth to wipe his face. You lazily watched him as he dried himself off and looked at the liquid that coated his shirt, gluing it to his chest. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the side. “Do you want me to dry you off too?” He asks, gesturing the cloth to you and you shake your head. He smiles and sets the cloth down.

He lays next to you and props himself up with his elbow, admiring you. He runs his hand down your arm softly as he looks at you. “That was amazing baby,” he leans in and kisses your forehead. “How are you feeling?” He moves to caress your chest gently.

“I can't even describe it. Tired but full of this buzzing energy,” you explain. “There was just so much at once it feels like a blur,” you sigh happily and turn to him.

“Are you done for the night?” He caresses your cheek with his thumb and you turn to loom at him.

“Not yet,” you smile and roll closer to him. He licks his lips before nibbling on his lower lip.

“You're so hot baby,” he chuckles softly under his breath. He quickly undoes his pants and throws everything somewhere on the floor. “Come here my love,” he pulls you closer to him before beginning to bite your neck, claiming you. “How do you want me to fuck you this time?” He says with a slight growl. It was obvious he was beginning to get more comfortable with you in the sexual sense. “Want me to bend you over~? Or fuck you missionary so you can stare right into my eyes as I make you cum,” he growls between kisses and you whimper. “Or do you wanna try something new~?” His proposal sounded intriguing but were you ready for something like that? There was no rush but…

“I want you to fuck me however you want,” you blush as you speak, the words tasting nastier than you expected.

“Oh~? You're so eager baby, I love you,” he kisses your neck one last time before pulling away from you. “I want to make sure you're comfortable so tell me to stop at any point okay?” He smiles as he sits up. You nod and follow as he directs you. “Lay on your stomach and spread your legs. Rest on your knees a bit as well to hold your bum up a bit,” he encourages by holding you up by your waist. You blush at the feeling of his fingertips drawing so close to your heat. You do as he says and hold yourself up. “Look at you, being such a good girl,” he whispers in your ear and you feel goosebumps rise along your skin.

He then comes around behind you probing his tip at your entrance. “We'll go slow, tell me if you're uncomfortable,” he reminds you as he runs his cock along your folds, collecting your fluids.

“Yeah, I will,” you reply as you turn to watch him.

“Alright, here we go,” he aligns himself up accordingly before pushing in. You felt your eyes roll back as he filled you up, inching inside you.

“Oh my god,” you moan and grab the pillow, digging your nails into the soft fabric. Yeosang brings his hand up to your face, tucking back your hair and strumming his fingers through the strands.

“You're doing so good baby,” he leans down, resting his lower body on yours. Yeosang finally reaches the bottom of your pussy and rests there, letting you adjust to him. He gently rests his body on top of yours, his head resting on your shoulder. He whispers reassuring words and praise into your ear as you adjust to him.

“You can move now,” you say softly and he smiles before doing as you said. He lifts his hips before pushing back in with a gentle thrust. You moan softly at the feeling. You could feel him stretching you out and it was an addicting feeling.

“Relax baby,” he said as he rubs your waist softly, still gently thrusting. “You're doing so good,” he says before kissing your neck softly. The sound of your body's clapping against each other echoed in the room as he continuously hit your A-Spot. Your moans increase in volume and pace as he kisses your neck.

You drop your head down into the pillow, burying your face in the silky fabric as Yeosang thrusts harder. “How are you feeling baby?” He speaks in a low rasp next to your ear.

“Amazing,” you stutter out and he smirks.

“You like being stretched out by me?” He says in a teasing tone that makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Yes,” you say between moans and whimpers. He begins to move faster, thrusting in and out of you so quickly that you can't moan for every thrust, it was all so fast. “Y-Yeosang I'm close,” you managed to croak out as he pounded into you.

“Me too baby,” he sits up a little to thrust as fast as he can, making you squeal. “You're so tight, I can't wait to see you cum again,” he groans as he holds himself up. As he growls dirty words you feel yourself coming undone, unraveling before him. Your body shakes softly as you clench the pillow like your life depends on it. With one last cry of his name you empty out beneath him. Yeosang thrusts a few more times before slamming into you, pouring his seed into you.

He thrusts into you harshly for each surge of cum, filling you up entirely. Your body relaxes as the waves settle. Yeosang lays on top of you, trying to hold himself up as much as he can so he doesn't hurt you but after that peak he just reached he was struggling. “You're so beautiful, my baby,” he whispers in your ear as he rubs your back softly. “I love you,” he pants out and you smile.

“I love you too baby,” you smile with a chuckle. He then sits up, pulling out swiftly.

“Spread your legs again baby, let me eat that cream pie,” he hisses before resting his head between your legs. He lifts your hips up slightly as he eats you out again, from behind this time. “Fuck you taste so good baby,” he growls against your sensitive skin, dipping his tongue into your entrance. You whimper softly as he uses that twisting method with his tongue again.

You squirm, seeking his mouth all over your core again. Yeosang smirks as he notices your eagerness. “You want me to make you squirt again?” He asks in a teasing tone and you nod.

“Yes, please,” you whimper and he chuckles.

“Remember baby, just because it happened once doesn't mean it'll happen every time,” he explains softly. “So if you don't squirt this time that's okay, don't pressure yourself,” he kisses your ass softly before moving down to your slit again.

You hum softly, acknowledging his words as he licks up your folds. He sucks your folds into his lips before rolling his tongue over them. You moan into the pillow and Yeosang starts eating you out more aggressively, lapping at your juices. He creeps his hand around to your clit, rubbing it back and forth. He uses his flipping tongue method again and you instantly feel your core tightening again.

“Hey baby, I think I'm close again,” you whimper pathetically and Yeosang hums in acknowledgment. He rubs your clit faster as he pokes his tongue into your entrance continuously. His free hand however creeps up from your hip around to your puckered asshole, probing it softly with his finger for extra stimulation. You bury your face in the pillow as your walls clench around nothing, pushing out some of the cum from earlier that Yeosang likes up instantly. From the triple stimulation your body begins to shudder as you snap, coming undone. As you gasp for air Yeosang slides a finger inside you and starts pumping it without hesitation.

You gasp loudly and buck your hips from the sudden intrusion. As the tension in your gut forms again you bite the pillow and once again that feeling of “peeing” returns. You were worried once again that this could go badly but at the same time this all felt so good you didn't care how it ended. Before you knew you could feel the warm liquid spray out of you and Yeosang pulled back, wanting to watch this time.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” he rubs your lower back and ass softly. Your body goes completely limp as your body releases everything. Yeosang still ended up being covered in bodily fluids but this time he didn't care, he just wanted to cuddle you. He lays next to you and roll over, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Was that too much?” He asks nervously, worried he hurt you or something but you shake your head.

“No, it was just…a lot,” you sigh with a smile and he pulls you into his chest.

“You were incredible baby,” he showers you in kisses before pulling the blankets up to cover you, trying to avoid the spot with a massive puddle. As your body falls limp under the blankets Yeosang lays next to you, admiring your beauty in such a peaceful state. “I love you,” he kisses your forehead. “Sweet dreams my love,”

#ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez yeosang #ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #yeosang x y/n #kang yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang smut #yeosang

271 notes · View notes

kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

Text

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Tell Her You Love Her 3/4 (Word count 4.5 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

A/N: Finally I can share the rest of this crazy story with you guys! Chapter 4/4 will be posted right after this one. Also if you haven't yet seen @shizukaay0 's amazing fanart for this fic, go take a look, it's steamy!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She wakes up next morning only to find König gone.

The restless night nearly makes her sleep in, and when she notices that the man has left while she was still sleeping, something twists like a blade inside her stomach. She throws the covers off, scours the room with her stare, and notices a note and a small sunflower on the bedside table.

He has left his knife – or one of them – here too. Another gift.

The steel is dark, nearly black; the handle olive green, with sturdy finger grooves and a heavy guard to protect the fingers. The saw-toothed portion on the back of the blade gives the knife a look that most people would probably deem ugly. The blade is wide and ends in a vicious, fat tip that looks sharp enough to puncture flesh without having to apply much pressure.

She doesn't know what a Glock knife looks like, but this is exactly how she sees König: petrifying, big, and brutal. In her eyes, beautiful… Stunning.

The knife juts from the table and holds a note in place although there is no risk of wind to take it off.

Flower for my Engel

I'll see you tonight

The clumsy, hurried message immediately makes her smile. The disturbing thoughts from last evening are only an odd memory – his offerings make her insides glow with warm milk and honey, she feels silly, like summer – and the promise to come to her every night doesn't feel like a threat anymore, it feels… magical, a secret romantic meeting, something wild, something she has always avoided from fear of trying new things.

The floral dress on the floor doesn't appear as evidence of her ruining anymore. It's fairytale-like: that he leaves flowers and knives wherever he goes. The destroyed bra makes her almost giggle. When has a man ever done something like that to her in the heat of passion?

The night feels like another odd dream: König had barely fit to sleep in her bed, and she had barely fit to curl around him. He had slept like a baby, motionless and peaceful, while she woke up every few hours to admire him: to watch the slow pulse between his collarbones barely revealed by the hood and listen to the faint snore that stopped for the smallest moment when she brushed her fingertips over his stomach.

Her muscles ache from lying half on top of him all night. Changing position was out of the question because he held an arm of steel around her all night. Luckily, it prevented her from falling from the bed. But now her muscles were coated with pains of not getting enough sleep while being held in place by a giant for almost 9 hours. Not to talk of the fresh aches born from their activities before getting those precious few winks of sleep…

She goes to work that day with such an everlasting beam that people notice her. She's not entirely sure what has happened, but she is suddenly wildly alive, and blooming.

No one knows about her secret man, her secret, sturdy weapon. No one knows she is the one he comes to every night: the shy, invisible cleaner who has seduced the man whom everyone fears.

And they can keep their boring normalcy and dull decency. She has found something infinitely better.

He's her most precious secret from now on.

He comes to visit her in the break room in the middle of the day, and she's slightly surprised. She thought they would see each other only at night from now on.

She greets him with a smile, and he answers her delight with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He looks far more normal now that the tension is gone. It's suddenly easy to be in his company because they share a secret nobody else knows about.

"Hi… What are you doing here?"

Her shy smiles and the soft whisper should tell him that she doesn't object at all to this sort of intrusion. She might be a little obsessed now too.

"I had to see you," he says as if she's his priority from now on, and her heart feels lighter and lighter. He's equally as lovestruck as she, then.

"You look so beautiful."

She's walking in a dream again: this man calls her beautiful even when she's hidden in her cleaner uniform, stripped from her dresses and flowers and makeup. The only thing she has is her smile, really, but he's not any less adoring. She's being worshiped during her sleepy coffee break, in broad daylight, when she's dressed in dull, grimy working clothes… Who would've thought?

“Thank you,” she gives him another smile, and he moves to her; so close that she has to crane her neck to look up at him.

The kiss that follows is stolen but thoroughly consensual. She disappears inside his hood and smiles on his lips, which are far gentler now. It's a chaste little kiss that happens in darkness and in secret, like everything else between them.

"Will you come to me tonight…?" She asks as if the note wasn't promise enough that he would. He's far too decent, not even groping her this time, and it drives her crazy.

"Nothing could keep me from you," he answers straight into her mouth. His musk and the soap he uses – something breezy and pungent, tea tree, perhaps – surround her much like the hood.

"You can be on top this time. I want to see how you take it–"

"Shh…" She smiles, almost laughs at his libertine whispers. He's smiling, too.

"Don't worry. I'll do the heavy lifting if you're tired."

He retreats, the hood is taken away and her sight is filled with light and decency, but then his hands go around her waist and lift her from the ground. It's like she's flying, floating through the air before he sets her gently on the coffee table.

"Except that you're not heavy at all," he says, voice dark and thick from arousal. He moves to her neck, the hood-coated face roams up and down her throat as he moves to whisper more suggestions in her ear.

"Or you can take it in your mouth… Have you ever had a man in your mouth?"

Something tells her that if she were to say yes, it would deeply upset him. The hair on the back of her neck starts to tingle, and when she doesn't answer him, he continues.

"I could eat you at the same time. Would you like that?"

His voice is darker still, and it makes her bite her lip and grab his arm for support. Even the idea of a 69 with him is dizzying. She can barely breathe from the joy and wanting.

How is she supposed to continue her day when he pops up out of nowhere and talks such sweet filth in her ear?

"König…"

"And after that… We'll fuck until your legs shake."

"Stop," she laughs a hushed giggle in the fabric of his hood. "This is inappropriate…"

"Oh ja. I'm hard again."

Mmh.

"All your fault, Engel."

"You are incurable," she laughs.

"That's what they say."

Perhaps it's a joke, but the word they makes her briefly wonder if he has had this kind of affairs with other women, too. Perhaps she's not so special after all. The image of him fucking other women with abandon breeds a stale, bitter putrefaction in her stomach.

Has he called them angels too…?

Her hands are about his neck, but she has no memory of throwing them there. She wishes she could just dangle from him the rest of the day until he carries her to bed and does all the things he just promised he would do. Let her do all those things to him while he gets to watch – watch how well she can take him, ride him, suck him.

She makes a silent promise to herself and to him that she will be the special girl, no matter the cost.

"Do you want coffee? I just made some," she asks in hopes that he would stay for a little while longer even if he isn't supposed to be here in the social spaces of the maintenance personnel.

"Sure. I would love that."

The man wants his coffee dark, and it only makes her smile as she pours him that minimalistic, unsweetened beverage. She likes his knives dark, his hood dark, his shirts dark… Perhaps she should start wearing black dresses.

"You left your knife in my room."

"For you," he tilts his head a little, wanting to know if she likes his gift. Has he given knives to other women, too, after he's fucked them…?

"Thank you. It's incredible."

"Good combat knife," he nods. "Doesn't reflect light."

If someone was here with them right now, they would probably roll their eyes at how deranged this conversation is. What rotten lunatics they both were.

She’s completely flushed, and smiling like an idiot from receiving a fat, vile knife as a present after having been fucked into oblivion twice last night.

"Well, it reminds me of you."

He looks at her, searching for deceit or ridicule, but there is none.

"That's how you see me..?"

"Mm-hm," she hums with sudden lightness. "Incredible."

His eyes betray the same look he had when he came inside her last night: brief, fragile, naked hope. Her next smile is sadder because obviously, this guy didn't receive compliments often. She's watering a dry desert plant with a single, simple word, and his eyes light up like he's just received years and years worth of good care.

He steps forward and looks like he is finally about to sit at the table. The obsessed look has melted into pure adoration: it's even more knee-buckling than the possessive stare that has followed her for weeks.

One of the maintenance officers arrives to get a cup of coffee in a hurry; a man whose name she doesn't even care to remember, whose world seems to consist mainly of stress. He’s a typical, middle-aged, burned-out man who doesn't appear to remember how to cherish the little things – such as a good cup of coffee – but rushes by everyone and everything and blames them for his stress. She always feels pity for both people and inanimate objects that get to suffer from this man’s exhaustion.

But she doesn't even see him now: all she sees is the fierce operator who is not supposed to be here. The giant who looks at her equally as mesmerized, like everyone else has ceased to exist in this world.

The air is teeming with naked lust and barely contained, sweet hunger, but the poor officer is blind to all of that. A sudden warmth gushes on her chest as the man bumps into her while rushing by with his overfilled coffee mug. She might as well be invisible again, and the hot liquid burns, but it has no power to make her angry or sad.

“Oh–excuse me,” she chirps with a dreamy smile on her face when it’s all his fault that she has coffee all over her shirt.

Before the man gets to the door, König grabs him by the collar and hurls him against the wall. She doesn’t even catch the knife before it plunges inside a round stomach like the worker is merely a balloon to be punctured.

The blade comes away all red, then disappears into the flesh again, and again and again… She loses count after six; the knife sails inside the same hole like he’s fucking the man with the blade. The slick sounds remind her of their intense love-making last night, they taint the passion in the most twisted way.

More hot coffee ends up splashing on her thighs before the sound of a mug smashing into tiny little pieces on the floor tells her that all innocence is lost.

Her gaze is glued to the black and red mush that used to be a polo shirt and a stomach: the man stays upright only because he is not allowed to collapse to the ground. But after a few seconds that seem to last hours, he is shoved to the floor in a sad heap.

She’s still staring at the now dead man when König takes a small step toward her. It occurs to her that both her palms are over her mouth only after she raises her eyes to his, and sees that he had expected some other reaction than this.

Her hands won’t descend; they try to keep all her horror inside, try to reassure her that this is only a dream, she hasn’t woken up yet, and the relief will be immense once she does.

But that never happens.

It’s real, and she would give anything to go only a few minutes back in time where the man was still alive and König was not everything she always feared he was.

He is looking at her with bewildered confusion, then the corner of his eye twitches, just once. He forces the blade back into its sheath without wiping the blood off: a telltale sign that he is more than thrown off balance.

Her horror and disgust escort him out the door in a tornado-like state, and she is left alone with two spilled coffees and a bleeding corpse, wondering who will clean the mess because she cannot for her life do it.

. . . . . .

The shock leaves her body cold and weak as she sits on a bench in the hallway, too distracted to carry on with her day, too afraid to go into her lonely room. It feels safer to remain in a public space, even if people who pass her by look at her with pity and confusion.

She cried her eyes and heart out after the shaking receded. She understands now why shock is such a dangerous state to be in. She always thought it a lie that people could die from shock, but not anymore.

Other people cleaned the mess, after the investigation. How she was able to stay so calm and collected during the questioning is a miracle on its own. What came after was an empty, bleak abyss.

She’s still staring at the floor after the buzzing around her quiets down. Minutes or hours pass by, the work day is over, steps fade away, doors close, people leave.

“Now now… What's the matter here lass?”

It’s the Scottish dude, unbearably benign, and looking like he’s actually caring about why she looks so devastated.

So, the other operators haven’t yet heard.

She doubts if König will receive much more than a scolding for what he did, high-ranked and fiercely dedicated to his work as he is. The man’s simply too valuable to be thrown away. They will just blow enough money to cover this shit right up.

This is not a regular army, and these are not regular people.

Soap sits down next to her, and she doesn’t even mind. At least he’s normal. At least something in this world is still intact, and smiling kindly.

"König did–König did something terrible."

She snobs and snivels, nose clogged and numb, eyes still burning from the tears. Soap looks at her with unadulterated concern, then pity. His brows knit together and he swallows before sighing profoundly.

"Right. What did he do now?"

When she only continues to stare at the floor, Soap raises a hand and starts to rub her back. Rather forcefully, to make it clear that he's not making a pass at her.

“Did he do something to you?”

She shakes her head slowly, because technically, it’s the truth. He didn’t knife her down.

Soap doesn’t ask any further questions. He must know without telling that König has done something bad, something fucking foul even if she hasn't been at the receiving end of it.

"Wanna hear my advice? Just stay away from that guy. Don't talk to him, don't pay attention to him."

The hand on her back stops as he thinks of more advice to give her while her heart grows cold and lonely.

"Just pretend that he doesn't exist."

It’s another punch in the gut to hear that she, the invisible girl, should simply return to her invisibleness and condemn König to nonexistence, too. To cast him out and send him even further into exile. To pretend that he had never been inside her, never brought her gifts.

The hand disappears, but then she feels padded gloves on her chin. She's too tired to flinch, and the hand gently coaxes her to turn her head and look back at the Scottish sunshine.

"Now… Give me a little smile, lass. It can't be that bad."

He’s not flirting with her.

She’s far too plain for Soap.

Or at least, that’s how she feels: unattractive, to men like him. To twinkling brown eyes, a perfect jawline, good jokes and outgoingness… She's had a few admirers but König is the only man who has looked at her like she’s nothing short of a goddess.

Soap, however, is the only one who came to clumsily cheer her up from the slump that witnessing a violent stabfest has sent her in. Everyone else just rushed by with feigned hurry. Every kindness she receives, she usually returns tenfold… But kindness is also a burden. Under the surface, she mainly wants to get rid of Soap; wants just to be left alone. Finally go back to her room and cry herself to sleep.

So she gives him a smile, shy enough to make him believe it’s genuine.

"There we go," he smiles back like an innocent sun, and behind him, in the darkening hallway, she catches the approaching giant: a black hood and under that, a bone-searing blue gaze.

"Wait–wait, wait!"

She darts from the bench, between Soap and him, like her lithe little body is enough to shield John MacTavish from a murderous titan.

If a man who spills coffee on her deserves to be stabbed more than a dozen times, what will happen to a man who has dared to touch her and make her smile?

"Don't,” her hand meets the steel of König's chest, and the blood drunk Goliath actually stops.

“Don’t, König, please."

The ice-cold gaze drops to her, and there’s such a range of emotion behind those blues that she has a hard time catching even half of the storm raging inside her maniac.

Soap rises from the bench behind her: the rustle of clothes and the squeak of gear tell her as much.

"Caught the girl crying,” he says with poorly disguised trepidation in his voice. “Now I don't know what you have done but maybe you should apologize."

Soap’s bravery is admirable. The flash of rage that is sent behind her could scald flesh from bones.

She presses herself against König, hugs his middle, tries to guide his attention elsewhere.

Just let the him go, please, no more…

Soap could perhaps defend himself for a while, but she doubts if the Austrian war machine would stop even when he’s shot full of holes.

Gargantuan arms go around her like a cage: she’s his, and forever will be. The true cost of being cast out from heaven is heavier than she had ever imagined; the tears that arise are born from a deeper trauma than that of witnessing a homicide in her quiet little break room.

. . . . .

König waits as she goes to have a shower. He follows her like a dark cloud as she goes to throw her work clothes, stained with coffee and the memory of blood, to the washing machine. He waits with statuelike composure as she finally sits on her bed, hair still dripping wet and leaving damp stains on her cute little white dress.

Wearing white seems like an abomination right now.

"I told you I don't want you to hurt people," she says quietly while watching how the water gathers at the tip of the strings of hair and tip-tip-tips on her dress and hands.

The man says nothing to defend himself. All the rage and fury is gone, his shoulders are tense, high up in the sky, almost in his ears. He’s shielding himself, and it makes her confused – clearly, he feels empathy, so why is he like… like this?

"I don't think you understand,” she swallows, heart beating more calmly now. He’s not going to plunge a knife in her, that much is certain. But still…

"I'm afraid of you."

She raises her stare: a powerful accusation, a woman's weapon. His head pulls back – he's surprised at this newfound nerve.

"I'm afraid of you, König," she emphasizes, much louder now. The declaration rings so true that it leaves her breathless and free, even powerful.

He, on the other hand, is a paralyzed beast. A golem stripped of the magical word that makes him a soulless robot. His eyes betray fear of loss for the first time, real, actual fear. He steps toward her, and when she doesn’t stop him, walks slowly to where she’s sitting.

He falls to one knee, slowly, so slowly – like she's a bird about to fly off. It pulls at her heart, it rattles the cage of her ribs. The frigid padding of his gloves touch her cheek, and she surrenders an inch or two. Maybe more than that.

She doesn’t know who lifts the mask, he or she, but her lips meet his desperate ones under all that black.

"I'm afraid of you…"

She whispers it on his lips, in his mouth, although she’s not afraid anymore. She’s pissed, and somewhat in love, and addled, shaken, ruffled to her core.

The kiss turns into a hungry one when he notices she’s not meaning what she says. Before long, she's on her knees too, and he's devouring her until she finds herself in his arms, being gently set on the floor. A trembling hand disappears under the hem of her dress, and the fabric comes up with it as he travels up her thigh.

But the only thing that’s wet right now is her hair, everything else is parched dry, locked up, sealed like the tomb of Tutankhamun, and there are curses in store for the one who will try to enter with force. Hell, even with a trembling, delicate hand.

And it’s not because she can’t get aroused – she could, in mere minutes with him – but because she’s not wet at the very instant he’s in her presence, that makes her grab the hand currently trying to get some solace from her.

"No."

He stops but doesn’t move that hand away. He’s panting in her mouth: needy, and in a whirlpool of despair. The only thing that can make him feel better is her wetness, which she cannot provide him.

The hand probes; it forces its way up just an inch.

"No."

She's relentless, and he finally draws his hand away, only to place it hesitantly and with an immense amount of grief, on her waist. She feels tiny under that giant palm.

"I'm not your plaything," she whispers, even finds the courage to shoot a tiny glare his way.

The hand does not apply pressure. If anything, it grows lighter and lighter with the fear of scaring her away.

"I made a mistake, Engel," he breathes. "You're not a toy."

Her eyes must betray both her hurt and longing because the man ups the stakes immediately.

"I'll give you anything you want," he tries: so desperately, so seriously that it sounds quite ridiculous.

"Can you just go," she whispers while a tear or two push out from the corner of her eyes. They’re hot as hell because they’re born of odd love.

"Engel–"

"Just leave."

The fingers on her waist curl, they grab her dainty little dress like it’s his only gateway to heaven. He releases the fabric soon enough, then grabs it again and lets out an agonizing sound.

Just go, go, please just leave me be…

She wants him to understand that there are consequences to his actions, and at the same time, she wants him to just hold her, to fix everything and fix her. It doesn't take the bitter taste of betrayal off her tongue to realize that she always knew what he was. She knew.

He rises to his feet, paces around a few times, more and more confused, distressed like a tortured animal. She sniffs and curls into a fetal position, hoping that he would just leave, and at the same time, hoping that he would brush off her demands and just hug her.

"I can't," he finally wails as if he can hear even her thoughts. "You're crying…”

It breaks her heart into million pieces – how can the same man stress and fuss about her tears when just hours ago, he had murdered some innocent man in cold blood?

He comes to the heap of her again, falls to his knees, then caresses her arm so softly that at first she thinks she’s just imagining the touch.

"Little angel," he tries.

Her following sob is like that of a child's. Why does he have to be so perfect and at the same time, such a–

"I know that I'm a monster."

Her eyes want to fly wide open, but she keeps them shut. He's self-aware, so much so that it hurts. He pets her more neurotically now; it's almost as if he's comforting himself and not her.

"Don't send me away," he begs, then curls behind her in an awkward spooning, holds and rocks her gently as she cries some more. After the catharsis that lasts for good long minutes, he gathers her like a doll in his arms and carries her to the bed so she doesn't have to lie on the cold, hard floor.

"I'll make it better," he says again and again as he caresses her and strokes her hair, "I promise I'll make it better…"

“Just go,” she cuts him off with a whisper.

He leaves eventually, after some more pacing and a few sighs, and she understands that he actually cared for her all this time: otherwise, he would've just taken what he wanted.

She slips into a dream, a soft oblivion where everything is well and summer is at its peak. They hold hands and stroll through the freshly cut grass, birds are singing, and he has no mask.

Taglist:

@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls

#könig x reader #könig x female reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #könig #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #könig smut #konig x reader #call of duty #mw2 x reader #yandere könig #könig imagine #just friends

1K notes · View notes

bucksdoll · 10 months ago

Note

watching porn with sarah and eventually scissoring!!!! nsfw pls!! 💗💗💕💓💓💕💖💖💓💖💕

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱

sarah cameron x fem! reader imagine

trigger warnings : NSFW (minors dni), friends to lovers, sarah is inexperienced with women, scissoring, implied reader is a top but they’re holding back quite a bit, dirty talk, pre existing/hidden feelings, watching porn, reader using the nickname ‘sare’ for sarah

summary : after a particularly hot day outside, you and sarah are buzzing from the heat. you seek shelter in sarah’s room, cooling down in the air conditioning. you head to grab her laptop when she expresses her boredom, and you’re beyond suprised when you see what it’s open to.

authors note : heyy, thank you for being my first ever post rq, it means a lot. i wasn’t sure what trope you wanted, so i went with bsf to lovers bc i felt like it fit. i hope that’s okay :). this was supposed to just be an imagine, but it kinda ended up being a little longer than i anticipated. please feel free to leave more rqs ppl ! i love doing them. this was BRIEFLY read over. might be a lot of mistakes, and this is also my first time writing a fic. pls b patient w me.

english is not my first language, forgive me.

bow dividers by gigittamic.

it was so hot in obx today, that it almost felt like your body was quite literally set on fire. it was the weekend, and you of course went to tanneyhill to hang out with sarah. you and sarah were inseparable. you practically lived with her at tanneyhill. you hung out around the cameron’s so often that you’d become quite close with just about every member of the family. youd help wheezy with homework, you’d playfully chastise rafe and his friends when they came over, you’d helped rose with little things here and there, hell even ward had begun to see you as a daughter. you were always welcomed in the house, whether sarah was there or not. you would be invited to family events, kook centered parties, on family vacations, everything.

if somebody asked, you’d call sarah your best friend. she’s probably call you that too. but deep down, you didn’t know what you two were. the circumstances in which you met weren’t completely platonic. you’d spotted her while at a random kook party, dressed in a bikini top and light blue ripped shorts. she was dancing with some of what you assumed to be her other friends. the music was loud and booming, and she swayed her hips, her eyes glossed over, seemingly having had a few drinks. you too, having had a few drinks, had the confidence to saunter over to her. you were dressed in a simple bikini and a backwards hat, your hair still a little damp from the dip you’d taken earlier.

you bumped a few shoulders to get through the dancing crowd of people, finally reaching her, laying a manicured hand on her shoulder. she continued moving just as she was before, hips swaying silkily, just simply turning her body to face yours. she bit her lip, smiling brightly at you, still blissfully lost in the music.

“hey pretty.” you say over the music, resting both your hands on her shoulders. you decided on a neutral move, so you could read if she was into you or not.

“hi beautiful.” she replied, finally meeting your eyes, slipping one of her hands to rest lazily on your waist, still swaying.

you started to move along with her, using your left arm around her shoulder to scoot her a little closer to you. she happily obliged, now gently fidgeting with the string of your bikini. you bit your lip, eyes never leaving hers. the way she was swaying her hips was driving you insane, and you subconsciously pulled her even closer.

she still went along with it, taking it upon herself to get as close as she could. she leaned her head on your shoulder, her hot breath on your kneck. you bit your lip so hard you’re suprised it didn’t start to bleed, and you trailed your arm from her shoulder to her ass, which you could now see swaying as she leaned against you. you gave it a light squeeze, as much as her tight denim would allow. you two continued dancing, for what felt like forever. but much to your dismay, despite a few risky touches and a few kneck kisses, nothing lead anywhere that night. she eventually had to leave the party, and she batted her eyelashes at you as you exchanged contacts.

and that’s how it always has been with sarah. you two flirt pretty frequently, and occasionally get a little handsy, but you’ve never done anything about it. she’s gone through boyfriend after boyfriend, and you’ve gone through a few relationships yourself, but after a year or so of trying, you never found relief, and ultimately stopped dating a while ago. you never tried anything with sarah, relishing in the teasing touches too much to want to risk ruining the friendship by asking her out. she was currently with her boyfriend topper, and had been for about 6 months now. she seemed happy, and seeing her happy in a relationship made you all the more sure you didn’t want to ruin it.

“hey y/n, can we pleaseee go inside. i know i begged you to come out here with me to tan but this heat is sooo much worse than i thought it was.” she whined, looking over her shoulder to face you, a big pout on her lips.

“i told you it was too hot out here sare.” you look at her sympathetically, her pout always being your weakness.

“i knowww, but i thought you were just making excuses so we could stay in bed all day.” she rolled her eyes a little, her pout still evident minus the little smile that creeped at the corner of her mouth. you rolled your eyes back, having already given in and started grabbing your few items you brought outside.

“alrighttt, go on. i’ll grab your stuff for you and meet you inside.” you smiled at her, heading her direction. she sprung up at your response, rushing over to you and wrapping her arms around your neck.

“thanks babes. you’re the best.” she left a kiss on your cheek before running towards the doors of tanneyhill.

that’s how it always was with sarah. she’d do things that would be seemingly innocent, calling you babes, giving you cheek kisses, playfully swatting your ass.. things that if you two were just girl best friends, it would seem normal. but it always felt so different with her. but as always, you brushed the thoughts away, grabbing her things and following her inside.

when you made it in, she was no where to be found. you assumed she’d grabbed a drink and rushed up to relax in her room, which was thankfully air conditioned. you set your things down on the kitchen counter, and padded your way up the stairs to find her.

you found her just where you expected, lazily sprawled out on her bed, still in her strapless bikini set from when she was tanning.

“i’m so bored.” she groaned, lazily turning her head to face you when she heard you come in, not having enough energy to move the rest of her body.

“what should we do? come up with something.” she added, her attitude leaking through her words a little, seemingly crabby from the heat.

“i dunno. what do you normally do when youre bored?” you replied, your brain seemingly empty. normally you two always had something fun planned, or little random things to do. but both of you seemed to be spacing for once. she shrugged, and you sat on the edge of her bed.

you saw her laptop open on her desk, so you wandered over to grab it, thinking of putting on a movie or something until you came up with something better to do. but when you touched the mousepad to wake up the laptop, you were suprised to see what it was opened up to.

“jesus christ sare-“

“what?” she groaned, seemingly unalarmed until her eyes met the screen. her eyes widened, and she sprung up off the bed with a sudden burst of new found energy. but hearing her pounding feet, you swiftly picked up the laptop and held it high above your head.

“y/n put that down right now i’m serious!” she whined frustratingly, grappling at your arms and shoulders, trying to get you to put it down. you wanted to tease her though, even if it was just a little. you assumed it wouldn’t lead anywhere. nothing ever did between you two.

“you’re watching lesbian porn?? god if i had known i could’ve set you up with some links, you know im good for that stuff-“

“y/n put it down, okay? i was just-“ she continued to hop on her feet, standing her her toes, desperate to reach the laptop. “-curious!” she groaned, not giving up in her pursuit to steal the device from your grasp.

“curious, huh? that’s cute.” you grinned teasingly at her, and her eyes flickered to yours a few times as she persisted, her little hops and outstretched arms making you bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

after a few more minutes of struggle, the heat exhaustion seemingly flooded over her again and she let up, now standing flat on her feet infront of you. her arms were crossed, a heavy blush tinted not only her cheeks but most of her face. her eye brows were taught tight together in frustration.

“i just wanted to look at it. maybe learn a little- i-i don’t know, okay?? i don’t know why i was watching it.” she babbled, seemingly genuinely a little hurt and embarrassed, her eyes welling slightly. your heart stung a little.

“hey, hey, eeeasy. i was just messing with you sare. you’re okay.” you lowered the laptop, closing it and holding it against your side, using your free hand to cradle her cheek. ready to catch any tears that threatened to fall.

“you know if you ever had any questions you could come to me, right? i don’t know what kind of experience you have, but i’m and open book. i can help you, if you want.” you leaned down a little, forcing her to meet your eyes after hers had drifted away.

“you’d do that?” she mumbled, leaning into your hand a little.

“of course i would. only if you want to-“

“i want to.” she cut you off, meeting your eyes with a reassuring nod of her head. you felt your composure that you’d kept for so long start to slip, and you were beyond greatful nobody else was in tanneyhill that day.

she grabbed your hand and tugged you back over to her bed. you set her laptop down, opening it back up to the tab she had open. you two sat next to eachother, the silence not uncomfortable but terribly thick with tension.

“can-can we just watch some first? i don’t know really what i want to learn yet off the top of my head i just was watching-“

“yes. yes, of course sarah. whatever you want.” you cut her off this time, reassuring her, then pushing play on the porn. it was some random short clip. probably 2 minutes long, seemingly off of twitter or something. it was two girls, evidently scissoring. you let the video play for a couple seconds before reaching to scrub through it, seeing it was literally just a clip of two girls scissoring for multiple minutes straight.

“do you have any other clips of what you want to learn..? because this is just scissoring, sarah.” you couldn’t help but crack a smile, finding a little funny how blissfully innocent about this stuff.

you turned to look at her to see her eyes already boaring into yours, pupils blown wide. her head was tucked down a little, and her hands fidgeted in her lap, clearly trying to get a message acrossed without saying it.

“you just wanna learn how to do that, hm?” you cocked a brow at her, and smiled a little more when she nodded her head.

“you sure this is okay?” you said, resting your hand on her folded legs, slowly creeping it upwards. she gave you a small nod again.

“words, sare.” you creeped a little higher.

“yes, fuck- please, y/n.”

with that you felt your last bit of composure slip. you gently pushed her back against the bed, her head resting against the pillows. you tugged at the button on her shorts, looking up at her to see her give you another nod, quickly adding a muffled ‘yes’ after it. you tugged her shorts down, throwing them off to the side somewhere. you watched her face closely as you gently rubbed over her clothed clit. you knew sarah had been touched before, she’d talked about her experiences with exes, but you still wanted to be as gentle and slow with her as possible, as it was her first time with a woman.

“can i kiss you? please?” she said while wrapping her arms around your kneck. it broke you out of the trance you didn’t realize you had fallen under, staring at her clothed pussy. you looked back up to her, your own eyebrows furrowing with a smile.

“of course baby.” she was the one to lean up to meet your lips, her kisses quickly going from gentle to rushed and sloppy. she was clearly getting ancy as she ground her hips up into your hand, and you pulled aside her bikini to slip your fingers through her folds. she was completely soaked, a wet patch having already soaked through her bikini bottoms prior to you actually touching her.

she moaned at the relief of you finally touching her, breaking away from the kiss for a second. her mouth hung open, and she looked to where your hand met her.

“please, oh god- please- more, something- please” she ranted, still grinding up into you.

“easssy sweetheart, i want you to feel my fingers first-“

“no- please just fucking do the thing already.” she said, clearly still a little shy about the subject. she avoided your gaze, still relishing on your finger tips which circled heavenly around her clit.

“are you sure?” you clarified, slowing your hand to make sure you got a straight answer. frankly she was already soaked, you could scissor, but you figured she’d want to be warmed up first. you really wanted to take things slow with her, but you couldn’t deny the way her eagerness made you all the more aware of how soaked you were in your own panties.

“yes. yes, yes, yes, please y/n.” she begged, literally whining and begging at your disposal. her brows were taught with frustration, and her hips continued to eagerly sway against your hand.

“okay, okay.” you laughed a little, finally tugging off your own garments. a shiver ran down your spine when you unclasped your braw, you were unable to tell if it was the breeze from the air conditioner or the way she instantly reached for your chest. she massaged them in her hands, slightly more out of pure admiration at first, but then switching to teasing your nipples.

“fuck sarah-“ you groaned as you finally pulled your final piece of clothing off, your panties.

“i know it’s going to sound pretty fucking stupid but.. i’ve always wanted to touch your tits.” she grimaced a little as the words came out her mouth, sounding like a teenager. the two of you giggled for a second before she looked at you expectantly.

“are you-“

“yes, im positive. ive never been more sure.” she smiled up at you, her classic sarah glow finally peaking through, most if not all of her embarrassment having washed away.

you pulled away, settling yourself between her legs, getting into position. she reluctantly let go of your chest, and let you move her as you needed to. when you finally had situated yourself, you propped her left leg over your shoulder, giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze.

before you could instruct her, she ground up against you. what was supposed to be, on her part, just a grind of being impatient, she felt her clit rock perfectly up against yours.

“h-holy shit was that it?”

“mhm, you got it baby. keep goin, you got it.” you barely got the words out, clenching your jaw extremely hard at the sudden touch. she continued, easily setting a pace, you let her figure it out for a moment before finally grinding back into her, the two of you in unison. she let out a gasp which quickly turned into a moan.

“oh fu-fuuuck..” she tensed her eyebrows together.

“y/n?” she glanced back and forth from your face and where the two of you met, and her fists reached up to firmly grab the pillow behind her. you met her eyes, ready to stop, instantly assuming she was having second thoughts.

“yea sare? we can stop-“

“i swear to fucking god y/n do not stop.” she groaned the words out inbetween moans.

“i was just going to say-“ she stopped in between words, clearly struggling “im really really not going to last much longer.” she shot you an apologetic smile, before blabbering a few ‘it’s so good’ s, ‘don’t stop’ s, and ‘holy shit’ s under her breath.

“oh yea? s’it feel good baby? god you don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this.” you ranted too, letting out a few groans of your own.

“oh fuckfuckfuck y/n- babe im-“

“let go sarah, i’ve got you baby. you’re doing so good.” she grinded desperately, her hips getting sloppy, the two of you now at totally different paces, yours being a steady fast rhythm and her being ragged and sharp. you could see your collective juices start to leak onto your stomach and your thighs with how random and miscalculated her thrusts were becoming, practically grinding against any part of you she could. her many short and high pitched whimpers, only egged you on further.

you watched as her orgasm finally hit her, her moans and whines coming to a climax, loud and overwhelming. her whole body shook, her stomach tensing and her arms loosing their grip on her pillow as she threw her head back. you could see her juices seeping out of her as you continued to grind on her, riding out her high and still chasing your own. it was when her sighs of relief turned into overstimulated whimpers that you too were finally thrown over the edge, your orgasm practically blinding you.

you fell back onto your elbows, collecting yourself for a moment before untangling your limbs and crawling up against her pillows, right next to her. she still breathed heavily, turning over to tuck herself into your armpit and throw an arm lazily over your mid drift. her hair was a mess, and you could see some of her mascara had smudged under her eyes. she looked so blissfully stunning.

“that was fucking awesome.” she said, cracking her classic sarah smile and letting out a little laugh, leaning on your chest to look up at you.

“yea, it was.” you smiled back at her, letting out a little laugh of your own to cover up the thoughts that were racing through your mind.

you had so many questions. where did we go from here? what about topper? will we ever be able to come back from this?

but as she tucked herself back into your armpit, seemingly overthrown by exhaustion, you didn’t dare ask. you were fine, and happy, in this moment.

#obx #outer banks #obx cast #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx imagine #obx smut #obx x reader #sarah cameron oneshot #sarah cameron fanfic #sarah cameron blurb #sarah cameron #sarah cameron smut

623 notes · View notes

il-predestinato · 1 year ago

Note

hello beautiful elle

since it is going to be a long 3 months without our boys could you please recommend some fics that you liked? cause i really like your writings and how realistic they are and i wanted to get some of you suggestions for the break!

love you loads

Thank you, lovely anon, for your very kind message! 🥺 I must admit I have fallen behind in reading fics. I am sure I am forgetting some excellent Lestappen fics/writers, but these are some of my all-time favourites!

Lestappen Fic Recs:

And in the end I will seek you out amongst the stars by mandzilkos (@geeeooorrrge) - rating: G, 22k words

Soulmate AU where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate, and the world goes back to black and white after your soulmate dies. This is ALWAYS the first Lestappen fic that comes to mind whenever anyone asks for a recommendation, and it is probably my all-time favourite. The fic that inspired me to write Lestappen, if I'm honest.

getting half of you just ain't enough by shybear_styles - rating: E, 20k words

The friends with benefits story that spans the 2019 season. The only thing better than amazing smut is amazing smut with feels. For sure a top 5 fic in the Lestappen fandom for me. Also, this author is simply amazing in general and you should read all of her fics! I haven't given up hope that she will return one day and write more Lestappen. 🤧

you feel the mornin' feel by shybear_styles - rating: M, 3.3k words

Remember that time Sebastian Vettel asked Charles, "Is he [Max] pretty?" And we never got an answer because Charles descended into gay panic? Well, worry not! We get an answer in this fic.

Monaco Malaise by ProngsfootxJily (@cupidskissx) - rating: E, 8k words

Rivals with benefits, takes place after the 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Yes, this one is delicious smut but also a character study. Both of them are written so well, and it leaves you begging for more. Don't forget to check out the equally amazing sequel! (Don't worry, I have been relentlessly harassing her to write the sequel's sequel.)

algorithm by Anney (@badboy-george) - rating: M, 17k words

In a world where F1 uses simulation-based compatibility tests, five times Max doesn't find the right partner and the one time he does. Black Mirror ("San Junipero" and "Hang the DJ") vibes in the best way. Another one of my absolute favourite fics. If you've read any Lestappen fics, you've probably read "Every Other Sunday." This one is simply a masterpiece by the immensely talented Anney; definitely check out her other fics!

panem et circenses by Anney - rating: E, 13.2k words

Wow - simply devastating, haunting, an ode to these two as drivers, set in a dystopian future AU. The world building is absolutely incredible, but at its heart is such a beautiful story of love and hope. This one doesn't get enough recognition. (TW: implied non-con, not between Lestappen.)

Unlearn by wantinghopingwriting (Tazza1993) (@lightsoutfullhearts) - NR, 45k words

This is another all-time favourite, a must-read. Fake/pretend relationship to lovers multi-chapter story that is ever so satisfying; both of them are so well characterized. Set in a parallel-ish 2022 season. I really cannot recommend this one enough.

the edge of what can be loved by Ledger_m (@the-last-jedis) - rating: T, 13k words

The third wheel fic from the perspective of Max and Charles' various "Steves." It's funny, heartwarming, and everyone on the grid is nosy as fuck.

Charles Leclerc vs Red Bull caps by Ledger_m - rating: T, 6.4k words

Charles is the hero we all need, as he goes on a mission to get rid of all of Max's stupid Red Bull caps. This is REQUIRED reading! Kami is a genius. Go read all of her fics.

If You Don't Play, You'll Never Win by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) - rating: T, 4.1k

Post 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Max wants to take their relationship further; Charles... doesn't. Oh my God, where do I begin to describe how much I love this fic. The language is beautiful, both of them are so well-written, and I feel punched in the gut over and over again in the best way. The ending (well, the whole thing) is so damn satisfying.

all's well that ends well (to end up with you) by stylestappen (@stylestappen) - rating: G, 3k words

Max has a meltdown in the cereal aisle (yes, the cereal aisle) at 3 am when he realizes he is in love with Charles despite the latter's questionable taste in cereal. Dani has an absolutely wicked sense of humour! (Although I don't understand what she has against cocoa puffs 😭.) She also wrote a banger of a Lestappen soon-to-be teammates fic, so make sure to check out her profile.

Max Verstappen: Spotify Extraordinaire by frnndtorres - rating: G, 26k words

Max makes Spotify playlists for the grid. Fluffy, funny, care-free, liberal use of nicknames, with a healthy dose of feels between Max and Charles. A really fun read.

i love the way your green eyes mix with that malibu indigo by altissimozucca (@altisssimozucca) - rating: G, 11k words

Max and Charles spend summer of 2020 together in Malibu and try not to fall in love. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. I feel the urge to explain something: When I first started reading Lestappen, there were less than 250 fics in their entire tag (yeah I know, we are currently close to 3000 fics, which is insane). From 2019-2021, we truly lived off crumbs. So trust me when I say that we owe so much to altissimozucca, who wrote something like 40% of the fics in the Lestappen tag and nearly single-handedly kept us fed in those days. It's so hard to pick one of her fics to recommend, so make sure you check out her profile for more!

#803442 by altissimozucca - rating: M, 1k words

Max and Charles celebrate the end of the 2019 season in a hotel room. So soft, so fluffy, so satisfying.

Bruises by eefiplier - rating: E, 5.1k words

I think of this one as THE Lestappen smut fic. Oh my God, it's 5k words of amazing established relationship smut with all the feels. A classic. I can read this one over and over again.

outside the box by playclock (@endowataru) - rating: M, 6.1k words

Max falls in love with Charles' driving... oh and Charles himself too. They are ultra competitive idiots who are madly in love. There aren't enough established relationship fics out there, but this one is simply amazing. And don't forget to check out this author's profile for additional Lestappen fics. I promise every single one is a banger!

i made it link by link by purpleglasseswrites (@f-ferrari-forever) - rating: M, 4.2k words

Charles and Max try to be kinky, but who are they kidding - they are far too vanilla for that stuff. 🤣 This one is so sweet, and don't forget to read the sequel!

One man's trash, another man's treasure by AzziNow (@track-terror-apologist) - rating: T, 4.2k words

Charles turns into a raccoon and terrorizes everyone except Max. (Well, he terrorizes Max too... slightly.)

Call it madness, call it love… by AzziNow - rating: M, 3.5k words

Ferrari auctions off Charles for charity. No angst, just fluff. Alpha!Max/Alpha!Charles. So I confess that I never read A/B/O fics. There's nothing wrong with it - just not my cup of tea. But I really enjoyed this one. Al has such a chaotic sense of humour.

it all reminds me of you by grandprix (@grandprix-ao3) - rating: E, 3k words

Secret relationship Lestappen with flashbacks. Oh the yearning, the desire, the smut - incredibly satisfying. I must put a plug-in for this author's other Lestappen fics as well. Never misses - make sure to check them out!

burning you into my mind by thightattoos - rating: E, 4.1k words

Porn with feels and possessiveness. You cannot ask for anything more. I must have read this one a dozen times.

an evil plan or two by witchee_writer - rating: T, 5.2k words

Max and Charles are roped into a plan to get Brocedes back together; they come to a few realizations along the way. The only thing better than a Lestappen fic? A Lestappen AND Brocedes fic!

Fine Line by empireoffclouds - rating: NR, 7k words

One of the more light-hearted enemies to friends to lovers fics. I absolutely adore their dynamic here - it's snarky, warm, but also so them. The incomplete sequel is also a super fun read.

Into Darkness Of Thought by flamingosarepink - rating: T, 1k words

After the 2019 Japanese Grand Prix, Charles thinks Max isn't coming back to their shared space.

steal softly under castle walls by untouchableocean - rating: G, 521 words

Max gets home late from Milton Keynes and Charles has already fallen asleep. Short, tooth-rooting fluff of the best kind.

Zoomies by greeny1710 (@maxlambiase) - rating: E, 2.2k words

This one is just hilarious. A (mostly) naked Max walks into Charles' team Zoom call during the COVID lockdown.

...and many, many more that I'm sure I have forgotten! 🙈 You can also check out my AO3 bookmarks (the first few pages are pretty much all Lestappen fics).

Please remember to leave kudos and comments for these amazing writers. The talent in this fandom is absolutely incredible. They all deserve so much recognition. Happy reading!

#max verstappen #charles leclerc #lestappen #lestappen fic #fic recs #elle.ask #anon #a list of incredibly talented people #for reference #fave

824 notes · View notes

junkissed · 1 year ago

Text

wait

member — joshua x gn reader genre — fluff, comfort (18+) word count — 1.1k synopsis — sometimes you just need to take second to wait. warnings — allusions to past/future sex but no sex happens in this fic, implied that shua is more dom and reader is more sub, this is literally just pure aftercare notes — i never feel like i put enough aftercare into my fics because i'm usually drained by the end of writing and i just want to finish it and hit post so this is kinda to make up for that. also i'm really particular about the way aftercare is written and i feel like i never see the kind i want to read so honestly this is just a super self-indulgent fic, because if you can't find it then write it yourself or whatever toni morrison said, but i hope you can enjoy this too :) i haven't proofread this since 3am so if there's mistakes pls ignore! also this is not based on the song wait by dino as you might have assumed i just thought it was a fitting title because we all need a reminder to just slow down and wait

"wait, wait... wait!"

joshua starts to stand up off the bed, but hesitates when you call out suddenly. "what's wrong, sweetheart?" he asks quietly, eyes carefully watching your face, searching for signs and trying to figure out what you need.

"don't leave yet," you say softly, your fingers wrapping loosely around his wrist. "don't want you to go.”

he rubs his hand over the back of your palm. "just gonna get you a glass of water,” he explains but he sits back on the bed, waiting anyway.

you're exhausted and you know you both need to shower and change the sheets, but the thought of moving right now only sends you into a panic. you're overheated and sticky with sweat, but still you crave the warmth of joshua’s body next to yours, the feeling of his skin against you as close as he can possibly get.

“later?” you say the word like a statement, but your voice rises in a question. “just stay for now. please.”

there's a time and a place for everything, and joshua knows right now is not the time for rational thinking. sure, you've got twice the amount of laundry to do later and your mouth feels drier than a desert, but that can wait. it can always wait, for joshua. it can wait because right now you need to feel the grounding weight of him beside you, telling you he'll always be there, especially when you need him most.

even though it's what he immediately wants to do, no amount of sweat-stained sheets could ever come before you in his mind. even though he knows you're thirsty and probably craving a cold shower and he wants nothing more than to jump up and take care of your every wish, that's not always what's best. yes, what you need is fresh laundry, but what you want is him.

so he settles back in on top of the bed, easily sliding into place beside you without a second thought. because it's always about you. always has been.

"better?" he asks, his finger gently brushing your cheek in slow, repetitive motions.

you exhale and lean into him, letting your eyes fall shut as you hum in reply.

the gentleness of his touch is such a stark contrast from how he'd been handling you not even 15 minutes ago, but you can't help but love both sides of him. gone is the hair pulling, the slapping and biting, replaced with soft brushes of your hair and careful caresses of your skin over each of the marks he'd left in the heat of the moment.

really, it's joshua's favorite part, besides the fact that he gets the honor of fucking you and being the one to bring you pleasure. it's the part afterwards that he looks forward to, when you're at your most vulnerable and both still riding an emotional high, when he gets to build you back up after so meticulously taking you apart. it's the trust in him that you show without ever so much as saying a word, the sense of safety and comfort washing over you that only ever comes from the feeling of being held in his arms.

the air seems to hang silently around you, as if even the universe can sense that this is a moment that shouldn't be interrupted, your own little bubble together that exists outside of space and time.

you just need a second to collect yourself, and seconds turns to minutes turns to half an hour before you can fully feel like yourself again. sometimes it's minutes and sometimes it's longer, but he'll wait as long as it takes.

you slowly open your eyes and inhale, lips warming into a smile as you see joshua is still here, still cradling your head against his chest, and that this all wasn't just a pleasant dream. you can always rely on him that when you open your eyes, he'll be there waiting for you. no matter how long you need to rest, he's always there when you're ready.

your thumb brushes over his arm, and he rests his cheek against the top of your head. “okay now?” he asks. “or do you just wanna leave it and go to bed?”

as tired as you are and as comfortable as his body feels, the intense feelings have subsided a little and you've regained enough of your energy to realize that what you need most right now is a shower and a glass of water.

so joshua slips off the bed, but not without leaving you with another sweet kiss because why wouldn't he? and you let him leave without a word of protest, because you don't feel that crushing feeling in your chest anymore of being left alone when you really need someone to hug, so you just wait patiently for him to return.

he comes back not much later with cool, fresh water in your favorite cup, and he sits beside you as you drink with his hand on your thigh because now it's his turn to be cared for, and the way he feels cared for is knowing you feel good and knowing he's doing a good job at making you feel loved. and you know that he needs this time just as much as you do so you savor the seconds spent here, letting the water wash down your throat until you both feel refreshed.

“thank you,” you tell him as you sit atop the sink, watching as he sticks his hand under the faucet to see if the shower is the right temperature yet. the bed’s already been stripped of its sheets and a fresh stack of towels been laid out, one by one ticking things off joshua's mental checklist. it's a routine, one that isn't always this thorough every single night but always equal in the amount of care and love he puts in each step.

and eventually things will return to normal, and you'll wake up the next morning filled with nothing but adoration for the man still sleeping peacefully next to you, and then you'll go about your days and come home in the evening and still be so much in love with him that you do it all again. maybe it goes differently next time, faster or shorter or less intense and you don't need to wait like you did tonight.

but sometimes you need a little extra time. and joshua is a patient man.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @onlymingyus @just-here-to-read-01 @darlingvernon @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune @simeonswhore @junhour @foxdaisy @honglynights @limesorbets @98-0603 @fairybinie @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @mingminghao @jeanjacketjesus @luvwonyy @tinkerbell460 @novalpha @ronnie97b @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @usari @hyneyedfiz @honestlydooetree @ktackore @k-drama-adict @cloecard @valentxi @aaniag

strikethrough means your blog cannot be tagged, please check your visibility settings and make sure they are off so i can tag you properly!

if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

#kflixnet #k-labels #kvanity #caratlibrary #[📌] — june.writes #joshua smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #joshua fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #joshua imagines #joshua fanfic #joshua x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios

926 notes · View notes

everparanoid · 1 year ago

Text

Wholesome Delinquent Behaviour┃Wriothesley

pairing: f!reader x wriothesley

genre: fluff , smut, light Angst

rating: 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

tags: consent is hot, it's all good till the backstory, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Reader is Not Traveler, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Squirting, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, biting kink, inappropriate use of cuffs, spoilers for wriothesley story quest, No use of y/n, Past Murder, Minor Original Character(s), Facials, PWP, Blowjobs, handjobs, everything between reader and wriothesley is consensual

wordcount: 9.5K

synopsis: The first time you met Wriothesley was completely by accident. Not that you remembered it too well; if you did, he wouldn’t confirm it without putting you through a gruelling test. No, the first time you remembered meeting Wriothesley was much later.

You are a prisoner at Meropide who meets and falls in love with Wriothesley over the years of knowing him, and he falls harder.

Originally posted: 30.10.23 on AO3

a/n: I am now reposting my AO3 stuff onto tumblr. If you know me....no, you don't. ;) Also check out my AO3 for more wriothesley fics.

Song Inspiration: ''Safeword'' by TV Girl.

I don't own any of the artwork used.

If everything could come to a stop, just for something she says,

The first time you met Wriothesley was completely by accident. Not that you remembered it too well, and if you did, he wouldn’t confirm it without putting you through a gruelling test. No, the first time you remembered meeting Wriothesley was much later.

You wiped away the sweat coating your brow with the back of your dirtied hand, heaving a deep sigh. The production zone, despite being at the bottom of the ocean, was like what you imagined the hot springs of Inazuma to feel like. You wanted to go there one day—to Inazuma. Although the borders were closed to the outside, the stories you heard of the beautiful Sakura blossoms filled you with the determination to get there. One day, you would. You were sure of it. If you didn’t get struck down by their archon first.

“Inmate, stop slacking! Unless you don’t want to eat tonight,” the guard manning the floor yelled at you.

You rolled your eyes and continued hammering at the heated chunks of metal. Your arms were weak, and your palms were sweaty. It was times like this when you wished you had a cryo vision. You wished for many things. You wished you hadn’t been caught. You wished Fontaine were a better place. You wished that Monsieur Neuvillette felt even an ounce of sympathy for your case, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the court of Fontaine was as ‘fair’ as they came. The sky had down poured the night you were sent to Meropide. It was the worst Fontaine had seen in four hundred years. You hadn’t seen the sky properly since you probably never would. People rotted down here. So, all you could rely on was the glistening memory of bitter water, and your dreams.

It was better, you decided, to be punished here than in Sumeru, Inazuma, or even Monstadt. You’d been to Liyue once, but you weren’t there long enough to have a clear judgement of whether their form of justice would be any better. Then again you had been arrested before you got out of Liyue and they handed you straight back to Fontaine to be judged by your home region’s laws.

“Inmate!” The guard yelled snapping you from your thoughts. “You’re wanted at the administration area.”

You dropped your hammer, relieved for the break, and shoved past the guard on your way to the lift.

I thought the whole point was you were living on the edge,

“It’s your lucky day, kid,” another guard said as you meandered leisurely toward them.

This guard you liked.

Meropide inductions didn’t happen often. Most of the time the convict was thrown into their dorm and made to figure it out themselves. In the instances of special cases, you were brought out like a friendly face before the storm. You had no clue why it was you they chose, but you always got paid handsomely in credit coupons, so the particulars didn’t matter to you. You had long since abandoned the idea of fairness down here where the sun doesn’t shine.

“What have we got this time?” you asked cracking your knuckles.

“A kid, your age.”

You paused. It wasn’t often you met people around your age down here. Everyone was either one foot in the grave or an adult.

What could this kid have done to end up down here with the downs and outs? You looked out the large glass window, it stared out into the deep blue Fontainian waters. The sea was dark, so you guessed it must be night. Time was more of an idea, a concept if you will, down in the depths. So, you enjoyed rare moments like these to re-calibrate yourself. It was a shame. You had hoped to at least feel the sun’s rays through the water’s refraction, but it was like you said beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The lift lowered down behind you, and you turned to greet this so-called new inmate. You were greeted by a tall scrawny boy, probably not even a year older than yourself with dull icy eyes and jet-black hair. He was drenched in that same bitter water.

You put on your brightest smile and offered your hand.

“Welcome to hell,” you said.

Not your best work but it caused a small snicker from the boy, and your favourite guard who stayed close by. Strange. They never stayed around. Were they that concerned about your ability to induct a fellow teenage delinquent?

Wriothesley paused. When he was given his verdict by the Monsieur Neuvillette he didn’t expect such a warm welcome. Well, warm as far as being greeted at its entrance.

He didn’t take your hand, instead opting to stare at you with those haunted eyes. You were disheveled at beast and downright filthy at worst. Nothing to sing or dance about. Nothing to fall head over heels in love with either, but you didn’t care. Who wanted to find happiness in misery anyway?

“Hell?” Wriothesley echoed. His voice was steady and stern like he was aged beyond his years; by the lack of life in his eyes, he probably was. “Is it that bad down here?”

You shrugged one shoulder.

“Depends,” you said.

“On what?” he asked, calculating. You could feel his brain working from where you stood.

Fascinating.

“Depends on how stupid you are,” you looked him up and down, chewing the inside of your cheek absentmindedly. Then, as if a rocket had been shot up your butt, you spun on your heels and gestured for him to follow with a lazy flick of your wrist.

He did so, catching up to you easily with his long legs and just as long stride.

“I didn’t catch your name,” you said as the lift doors closed behind you taking you down to the actual entrance of Meropide not the fancy entrance for visitors too afraid to see the truth. Fontaine was a giant opera, and you lot in Meropide were the hidden stage crew, slaving behind the scenes after losing your spot in the limelight.

“You didn’t ask,” he responded flatly from beside you.

“Clearly that was the hint for you to tell me.”

“It’s Wriothesley,” he said.

It didn’t sound like it was his actual name. Hell, it didn’t sound like a name at all, but who were you to judge? Meropide was a place to start a new; to redeem yourself from your sins, and nearly burn to death in the production zones breaking your back for an administrator who was a tyrant. What was a kid reclaiming their identity going to do to you?

“Nice to meet you, Ricecake.”

“Ricecake?”

“Hey, you give me a name I can’t pronounce you live with the consequences, Ricecake.”

The doors opened and the lift groaned as steam poured out of its pipes and vents. Some unfortunate soul was going to have to clean those later, and you prayed it wasn’t going to be you. You had a burn on the inside of your arm from the last time you cleaned those steaming pipes, it was a jagged ugly thing to look at, so you kept it hidden. Out of sight out of mind, right?

The receptionist sat behind the desk looking as melancholy as everyone else in this place. Wriothesley was going to fit in just fine, you thought, as you remembered that same almost dead look in his eyes.

“You coming?” you asked the boy who stood gawking at you from the lift. “It won’t take you back up you know. I mean you can try. It’s your sentence you’re lengthening.”

“You don’t recognise me?”

“No?” you said. “Should I?”

You tried to recall when you would have seen him before but only drew blanks. You’d seen so many of the same faces and watched so many of them die that telling anyone apart was a pipe dream for you. However, for some reason, you knew that Wriothesley would stick in your head. Not just because the name was so peculiar but because something about him intrigued you. He didn’t seem upset down here yet. No, he looked curious. Curiosity was dangerous. Curiosity got the smartest people in here killed or beaten half to death. No, Wriothesley stuck in your head because he reminded you of hope.

So, when those sounds start to drift down the hall, and stat to freak out the neighbours,

“No coupons, no meal,” the chef said, his voice booming through the place. You wondered over questioning who would be stupid enough to get into conflict with the head chef. He was a burly man, tall with a glassy eye and a wooden spatula the size of a person. The rumour was that he had been a Fatui skirmisher in the overworld. The truth was he was like every other soul in here, beaten and trapped. Upon seeing the familiar woolfy black hair, spiked in random places you inserted yourself into the conversation.

“Sorry about that boss. He’s new,” you said to the chef.

He waved his beefy, greasy hand at you to leave.

“Don’t let your friend come back unless he has coupons. This isn’t charity,” he said with a thick Snezhnayan accent.

“Gotcha,” you said and gave the chef a salute. Hooking your arm under Wriothesleys, you pulled him out of the cue. He nearly tripped over his foot. You dragged him to a secluded table a little away from everyone else, where your singular special box of bread and curry waited for you.

You let him go.

You pointed to the wall where it read, ‘If a man will not work, he shall not eat.’

“Sit,” you commanded pointing to the chair opposite yours.

Wriothesley stared at you like you had grown four heads.

“I have no food,” he said.

“I can see that,” you responded, opening your box and letting the steam waft out. Both of your stomachs groaned at the same time. It had been a while since you had had decent food from the chef, it would be even longer till you had another one; credit coupons weren’t easy to come by and they were better spent on other things like making sure you didn’t get smothered in your sleep.

“How much did that cost?”

“More than you’ll make in your first year,” you said breaking up the bread in your hands.

He gulped dryly.

“How do you know that?”

“You’re a fresher. You’re basically free labour until you have some experience behind you, and some meat on your bones. You’ll be lucky if they pay you a tenth of what you should be getting in your first year. Unless you can fight.”

You let your words settle in the silence between you.

“What did you do?” you ask.

“What?”

“Your crime? What did you do? The guards treat you like a danger to humanity,” you said glancing at the guard who watched you both intently. You could understand them glaring at you but why him?

Wriothesley shifted in his seat, straightening up as if preparing for something.

“I killed my parents,” he said.

He didn’t say anything more than that, he didn’t need to.

You blinked.

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

You let it sink in for a minute and then nodded.

“I will not be offended if you run, after all this is the entire truth,” he said bluntly. His stomach growled again, and he clutched it willing it to silence itself.

“We’re all crooks and criminals down here,” you said. “But that doesn’t mean we are all bad.”

He lifted an eyebrow at you. You supposed it was because he was expecting you to run. Which meant he obviously didn’t know you.

“What if I am just a bad guy?”

You shrugged. It was not like you were the dog’s bollocks yourself.

“I have a good enough instinct to know that you aren’t, Ricecake,” you said and pushed your now broken-up bread and curry meal toward him. You were going to regret it. You hadn’t eaten a full-fledged meal in three months, but still, you gave it anyway. “Eat.”

You would have wanted someone to do the same for you when you got here. Friends weren’t made under the sea. His eyes widened and his pale face brightened for the first time since you had met him.

“This is yours,” he said, sounding flabbergasted.

“Now it’s yours,” you said. “Eat up and get some rest. You need to be strong if you want to survive around here.”

You noticed something in his eyes then, a spark. It was dull but it flickered. Your stomach flipped again.

You took a sip of your water before pushing it over to him. He was going to need it more than you.

“Thank you,” he said.

You shook your head.

“There is no need for thanks between us. See it as me looking out for a fellow delinquent.”

“Delinquent?” he said taking his first bite of the bread drowned in curry sauce and rolling his eyes in bliss at the flavours. He began to hoover up the box like it was running away from him.

You remembered when you were like that with every small crumb of bread you got when you first got here. Your stomach flipped. What kind of hell had Wriothesley come from?

“Slow down buddy meals like this don’t come around every day,” you said. “Take it slow, no one can kick you out of here to work anyway. Seems they’re too afraid of us.”

He did as you said. Licking off his fingers, he looked around the floor at the glaring stationed guards and occasional inmates. He faced you his eyes glimmered with light like a shooting golden star flying across an icy sky.

“So, how do I get them to trust me?” he said leaning in.

You leaned back in your seat, your arms crossed and a smile on your face. You were sure now, that feeling in your stomach was hope.

remember that it's good, clean fun,

“Happy Birthday!” you grinned, setting down a box you had smuggled up from the cafeteria into his room. He raised a brow up at you. It was the 23rd of November, the day he’d decided was his birthday; the same day he was sentenced to Meropide.

“Ah, thank you,” he said politely. His stomach growled at the delicious aroma coming off the box revealing, despite his calm thanks, his eager anticipation for your yearly gift.

Guilt riddled him, as he dropped the gauntlet he had been upgrading, next to the cashflow machine he had found and tinkered back to use. He had wanted to pay you back. Every year, on the day he arrived you came with a box and another ten pieces of meshing gear for his tinkering, and as much as he secretly loved it, he felt like he wasn’t doing enough to pay you back.

It had been six years and yet he hadn’t gotten you a single thing he considered worth the amount of your kindness. Aside from a necklace with a piece of meshing gear that he had forged into a Cerberus insignia. You wore it everywhere. You wore it then, the rustic insignia rested on your chest. He had already put aside the pieces for a matching bracelet, a little trinket from him to you. A subtle hint to show that you were his, even if he hadn’t said it yet.

He unravelled the box and two tea bags fell out of the wrapping.

You picked them up and shook them before him.

“Tea for the occasion,” you said.

He smiled and closed his eyes.

“I fear, you know me too well.”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know your favourite colour,” you said, brewing the tea in the teapot he kept on the wonky table.

“I don’t have one.”

Meaning he couldn’t choose one without them all tying to you. Maybe it was the colour of your hair, or eyes, or even the colour of your lips, he’d stare at those often. Too often lately. He was staring now. He looked away.

“Well, I guess I do know everything about you,” you chirped.

He thanked you as you handed him a cup of tea with two sugars just as he liked it. You knew these things. It wasn’t like you had spoken about them. No, you had been around him so much in the last few years that these things came naturally to you. It was like breathing. You sat beside him on the ground. Your tea warmed your hands.

“What else does the birthday boy want on his birthday?”

He fought back the blush though he was sure the colour still painted his skin.

“Nothing.”

“Come on! There has got to be something?”

Wriothesley shook his head and opened the box.

“Okay then if you insist. Share this box with me?”

“But it’s yours.”

“And I want to share it with you. Are you really going to deny me on my birthday? Remember, you are the one who asked what I want.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine.”

He broke up the bread inside one of the compartments in the box, the same way he'd watched you do it countless times. You reached in and dipped a large unbroken piece of bread into the soup before bringing it up to his lips. He stared at your hand.

“Open up. Come on, birthday boy, if we are sharing then you’ve got to have the first bite,” you said.

When it became apparent that you weren’t going to give up any time soon, he opened his mouth enough for you to slip the bread between his teeth. Both of you without the other's knowledge held your breath when he bit down, and his lips brushed the tips of your fingers.

A shiver ran through your body, one you knew would follow you to bed and into your filthiest dreams.

He pulled back and quickly cleared his throat, as he chewed without tasting.

“It’s delicious,” he said.

“It is,” you choked out, though you hadn’t tried it yet.

He didn’t bother to correct you, too lost trying to calm the riot in his chest. When he felt like he had better control of the battle in his chest he picked up a piece of bread, dipped it into the curry sauce and held it toward you. You blinked.

“You should try some too. You know since we are sharing and all.”

You took a bite from the bread letting the flavours wash over you. They too were lost to the way you noticed his eyes watching your lips enclose around the bread. You nodded and covered your mouth as you chewed.

“It is good,” you agreed, with a mouth full of mush.

He nodded and looked away from you, scooping up another piece of bread and popping it into his mouth. You would have thought he was unaffected until you saw his ears were deep shade of crimson.

Just wholesome delinquent behaviour,

“What’s this about?” You asked as he guided you with his large cold, calloused hands over your eyes. You envied his cryo vision, and his ability to stay cool down in that heat pit. He hid it well, but you knew he had one. You’d seen it one day by accident and not breathed a word about it since. Vision holders were targets down here and the last thing you wanted was to put him in any more danger.

“Patience. Don’t you know all good things come to those who know how to wait,” he said.

He had dragged you out of the production zone after finishing his work and disappeared off like he usually did only to reappear an hour later with that confident stride he had. You barely ever saw him these days, but when you did it would be like he was still the fresh-faced delinquent but older. You were both older. He guided you into a seat and then removed his hands. You missed the cool touch on your skin. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the poor lighting.

“What is this?” you asked, staring at the giant box in front of you.

You looked up at Wriothesley. It had been twelve years since he came to the fortress and the once soft baby face was gone, lost to the grit of Meropide. Wriothesley commanded the trust and respect of everyone around him much to the administrator’s dismay. When you were working away in the production zone, to he would be off swaying the inmates and the guards, working his natural charisma on those around him.

“What happened?” You asked reaching up and grazing his split lip with your finger. He caught your wrist and dipped his head out of the way flashing you a half smile. He had grown even taller over the years and now you had to reach up to touch him. He glanced at the ring on your finger, and you snatched your hand away, your face flushed with embarrassment.

“I won some more coupons,” he said.

In reality, he had scrapped up the coupons that he’d hidden away in the case of a rainy day and used them to buy you the meal. A week earlier he had lost all his accumulated credit coupons in a single night to the Fortress’s administrator.

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Is that so?” he sassed. “I suppose I should write a will.”

Your expression darkened.

“Kidding, of course,” he said.

“Of course.”

“I went to Sigewinne,” he assured you. “She said I would be fine as long I rested.”

“Good,” you said.

You turned back to the box.

Metal screeched on the floor as Wriothesley pulled his chair closer directly across from you. The place was unusually empty—only a few guards manned the area, but no other inmates could be spotted on the floor.

“So, what is this?” You could smell the faint fragrance of something familiar. Something you hadn’t smelt in years.

“Open it,” he said and gestured with his chin to the box.

You gave him a cautious look and lifted the lid. Inside sat four rolls of bread and two bowls worth of curry. Your heart fluttered. When you looked up at him, he was already watching you; his icy eyes shining like stars. You didn’t want to think anything of it… to hope. Hope was stolen from you. Hope led to you becoming trapped in a loveless engagement with one of the crooked guards.

“You really did it?” you said and ached a little inside.

This was supposed to be a happy moment but all you wanted to do was weep bitter water.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his toned scarred arms over his chest. He looked so broad and solid; all that boxing had morphed his physique into something godly. “I told you I would pay you back.”

“That was twelve years ago, and this is more than triple what I gave you.”

“I added the interest,” he said.

“Why now?”

He looked down at your ringed finger again and frowned. His brows drew together in the way they did when he was annoyed or thinking more than he was going to let you in on.

“I’m going to fight the administrator,” he said bluntly.

You paused mid-snap of your bread.

“You’re going to fight the administrator?” you repeated, unsure of whether you heard him correctly. “Your sentence is up. Why would you do that? You’re going to die.”

He shrugged.

“I refuse to watch people suffer under the crooked ruling of a tyrant,” he said and eyed your ring again. Your finger felt like it was on fire; you dipped a bit of bread in the curry and handed it to him. He waved it away.

“Why are you like this?” you said, and dropping the piece of bread into the curry, you watched it drown and disappear into the thick liquid. “Is it not enough that you’ll be free?”

You blinked back tears, your hands clenched on your thighs. You had watched nearly all of his fights and every single time your heart was in your throat. Every time he bled, every time he shook hands with his opponent; every time the ringleader held up his beaten-up arm to declare his victory. You hated it. You hated all of it.

He said your name with a tenderness he reserved only for you. A tenderness you didn’t want to hear. A tenderness you blocked out with everything in your soul.

“Is it so strange that I would want to fight for those whom I promised a better life out of genuine care?”

“Why did you do that?” you yelled, your voice came out harsher than you intended but it was too late to take it back. That was the thing about words, they could never be unspoken. He cleared his throat.

“As I recall, I didn’t come here to live under the thumb of another driver, and I thought you would understand that more than anyone else, but I see now that I was wrong and clearly you have been broken down after all.”

You bit down hard on your lips, and your jaw clenched so tight that you were sure you would crunch a tooth.

“Ric—Wriothesley. That’s not fair,” you whispered.

“Indeed, it’s not but it’s the truth.” He glanced away for a second. “Look, I am in love with you, and I have been for the last twelve years. I can’t simply watch you be with someone you hate just to get a sentence lowered that you still won’t tell me about. I could have helped you. I am helping you. I’m helping everyone,” he pushed his chair back and stood.

“…What?”

“I’m fighting tomorrow. Show up, if you have some time, of course; or don’t, but I’ll be looking out for you. You can find me in my dorm before then.”

You fought back the urge to chase after him, to slap him, to kiss him, to hold his hand, to hold him so tightly and cry the way you haven’t been able to since the day you were convicted. Instead, you didn’t. You sat in silence and ate the bread and curry watching your heart walk away from you.

Oh, remember your safe word,

His dorm room was across from yours. It was sparse like everything else in the underwater fortress. A pillow and scatty blanket lay atop a barely functioning mattress in a corner. Wriothesley sat at the small table barely standing on its uneven legs. A tiny pot brewed a herbal smelling tea, and two teacups sat in front of him.

“You came,” he said barely above a whisper. His confidence was a quiet one.

“You love me.”

“Would you like some tea?” he asked, gesticulating to the second cup in front of the spare chair.

You had been in here countless times; shared many cups of tea with him; helped pierce his ears and manage his wounds; watched him shadowbox the air as you sat crossed-legged on his bed; you had wondered what life would be like if Meropide was a better place; you had wondered if the people you left behind missed you as you laid next to each other on his floor staring at the giant fan on the ceiling. Not that either of you had anyone but each other. Wriothesley had said his siblings were strangers to him, and he was probably a ghost they would never want to see again. An unfortunate reminder of something they’d all rather forget, but he never forgot. He refused to. He lived his truth.

Every time he told you about his past you worried about how his view would change if you if knew your truth. However, Wriothesley never pressed too hard, never touched buttons he knew you didn’t want to be touched. Instead, he watched and observed, and took in all that you were willing to give him, just to see a glimmer behind the cracks of your mask.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

“Please.” He gestured to the chair. “Sit.” he filled your cup.

You took your seat and shifted around, unable to find comfort despite it being your usual chair. Feelings always made things feel different—uncomfortable. You knew this. Yet you still felt the discomfort, nonetheless.

“How did you know I would come?”

“I didn’t but I hoped and thankfully you didn’t disappoint, but you never do,” he said, filling his cup.

“No need to be modest with me, Wriothesley.”

“I am anything but modest with you,” he said your name softly.

You gulped. Wriothesley wasn’t one to mince his words, though tact was his favourite game.

“You must have heard about it already?” you brought the teacup to your lips taking a sip of the liquid. Credit coupons bought anything in this fortress, even the finest tea. “It’s all people can talk about when it comes to me.”

His expression darkened.

It was only a matter of time.

“You do, and yet you still love me?” you asked.

“I recall someone once telling me that we all are crooks and criminals down here but that didn’t mean we were all bad,” he recounted the words you had said to him when he arrived nearly verbatim. He leaned onto the table, and it shook on its uneven legs from the added weight. “Besides, I like hearing stories from their source.”

“Then ask.”

“What got you incarcerated?”

You took a deep breath. What did you have to lose? He had heard worse rumours.

For some reason, you cared about what he thought of you. You knew that feelings were fickle things, and yet, you cared that he loved you. You loved him too.

“Mariticide,” you said cooly, breaking the ice.

“But you were—“

“A child, I know.”

“I was illegally married off when I was eight years old to a man, twenty years my senior.”

Wriothesley remained neutral, you took it as your sign to keep going.

“He didn’t do anything to me until my twelfth birthday and then it started. At first, it was just touching and then it got worse. He was an influential Fontaine nobleman. One of the maids tried to help me report him but it didn’t work. So, one night when he came to my room, I had hidden a butter knife under my pillow. I castrated him and ran away, fleeing Fontaine. I wandered through Sumeru and then to Monstadt but even the city of freedom couldn’t protect me. So, I kept moving. It was when I was on my way through Liyue that the authorities caught up to me. The maid who had tried to help me was sleeping with the man and hence reported me. The hearing was quick, and I was put away fast. No one wanted to consider the implications of a thirteen-year-old being married to a thirty-three-year-old whom they all dined with. I heard he died a few years ago but my sentence keeps getting extended every time it gets close to the date of my term. I suspect it’s the maid. I was supposed to be here for eight years and well, I am still here. That’s why I must marry that Guard.” You took a long sip from your tea and then placed the cup down. “I’m damaged goods,” you said.

Wriothesley remained silent. He looked to be thinking of something and you had never seen his expression so dark.

“You’re not damaged,” he said, “and he’s lucky he lived after that.”

You smiled. It was a bitter smile; one filled with more exhaustion than remorse.

“Luck favours the rich.”

“If a man will not work, he shall not eat,” Wriothesley said, reciting the famous lines that painted the walls of Meropide.

You raised your teacup at him before taking another sip.

“Jokes aside, thank you for telling me,” he said.

He stood up and you feared he was going to ask you to leave. You wouldn’t be sad, at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself, but the sinking feeling came all the same.

He offered you his hand and you stared at it. Your brows furrowed before you hesitantly took it. He pulled you up to your feet. His cold hand intertwined with yours.

“Can I hug you?” he asked.

He’d never asked this before. Did you look like you needed a hug? Because you wanted one.

“Please,” you choked out.

You would never have described Wriothesley as warm, but when he held you in his arms and you heard his heart racing you couldn’t deny that he was undoubtedly warm. A single tear rolled down your cheek. Then another, and another, and another until you were sobbing into his shabby inmate shirt.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I know.”

You’d been holding onto these feelings for so long. Letting them fester inside you like a sickness. No one had ever stopped to hear your side of the story and you thought you were okay with that. You thought if they stayed away from you then you could pretend to be like every other inmate brought in for stealing a slice of cake meant for Lady Furina. You thought you could hide your truth, but behind every fake smile, you wore it on yourself like a body of armor.

His shirt crumpled in your hands. He swayed from side to side and traced tiny circles on your back with his thumb.

“You did what you had to do. If he was alive, I’d kill him,” he said.

You wiped your eyes and looked up at him. “Please don’t fight tomorrow.”

He brought a hand up to your cheek and brushed away your tears. He decided then that he hated your tears, and he would do anything to see to it that you didn’t feel that way again.

However, he hated the idea of you living with this pain more. He hated seeing that diamond on the finger where his should be. He hated it even more that you knew that he hated it before he had admitted his feelings for you. If his resolve hadn’t been solidified before now it would be completely. He would free you, and if you decided you wanted to be with him once you sprouted your wings, then he would accept you with open arms. He wouldn’t put you in another cage. He’d hate to see your heart break because to him you were his heart.

Wriothesley’s attention dropped to your lips; they were wet with your tears. He leaned down and brushed his lips to the corner feeling your sadness.

You turned your head at the last moment and captured his lips.

He froze.

You gripped his shirt tighter and reached up on the tips of your toes pressing your mouth further into his; willing him to reciprocate. Your first kiss with Wriothesley tasted like bitter water. It was soft and desperate. It knew what it was without the need for words or discussion.

His chest heaved as he pulled away.

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered.

“I won’t…”

He wouldn’t—at least not tonight. Although, he didn’t know whether it was day or night outside of Meropide. The underworld was a different world entirely. It never truly slept. It didn’t adhere to the rules of the sun or the moon. It was filled with endless possibilities. Possibilities that could alter both of your existences and if he couldn’t free you above ground, he knew sure as hell would free you below. Although, one night of keeping you safe in his arms couldn’t hurt.

You sat down on his mattress. You looked so much smaller than he remembered, then again it had been twelve years.

He recalled your soot-covered face, and dull eyes when you had greeted him, the day he arrived at Meropide. The day he had begun his new life; his birthday. Although the circumstances weren’t great, he knew from the moment you said, ‘Welcome to hell,’ that he would love you.

He sat beside you.

“Tell me what you want?” he said, earnestly.

You leaned into him.

“I want you to be yours.”

It was true. You wanted him. Engagement be damned. Even if it was just one night, you wanted something for you. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was asking for too much, but you didn’t care. You had spent too long denying yourself the things you want to maintain a peace no one else upheld.

Wriothesley gripped your wrist and groaned what sounded like your name, but you couldn’t be too sure.

“Give me a word,” he said.

“What?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he began.

“I am not fragile.”

Though in front of him, you were.

“I know you are not. Give me a word so I know to stop if it gets too much for you.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and rested his forehead against yours.

“Time,” you breathed.

That’s what you wanted—time. Time to love him, time to live, time to take back all the things you regretted and start again. Time to meet him before you both became who you were.

“Okay,” he said, leaving a kiss behind your ear. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

Only tonight. He reminded himself.

He could promise you that for certain. He couldn’t promise tomorrow, not because he was a pessimist but because he knew tomorrow was never certain. He had you now. He would make sure he had you forever but now would have to be enough. He would make it enough.

“Yours. Completely,” you said.

Another tear rolled down your cheek.

He pulled off his shirt.

Your mouth merged with his, your tongue slipping into his open mouth tangling, exploring searching. He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes closing despite the desire to see every expression on your face.

You broke the kiss and leaned back pulling off your shirt. His eyes dropped to your breasts.

“Just for me,” he whispered, taking them into his hands and kneading them slowly.

He traced kisses down your neck, wishing to mark you, to lay his claim to you. He wouldn’t however, not yet…not tonight.

You fiddled with the string to his bottoms, untangling it and reaching in to feel his erection. He groaned against your neck unafraid to let you know how good it felt. You grasped his cock. It was thick, thicker than you expected, and so hard. You needed both hands to grip him properly.

“Take off that fucking ring,” he hissed upon feeling it on his skin. You did, taking off the ring and dropping it with your shirt on the floor. You gripped his cock again, your hands feeling so much lighter without the mental weight of the ring.

“Harder,” he growled as you stroked him.

You tightened your grip watching as the crease between his brows grew. He rolled his hips into your hand.

“Oh, that’s it,” he panted.

You bit your lip and focused on the reddened tip.

Your thumb brushed the crown wiping away the drops of precum. He jolted, his jaw unhinging, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. You froze and released his cock. He opened his eyes, worried, only to see you on your knees between his legs.

He opened his legs wider and slid closer to the edge of the bed. He brushed your hair out of your face and gripped it in his hand as he used the other to keep him up on the bed.

“Go on,” he said. “Show me how much you want me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Gripping, his cock you gave the tip a lick listening to his pleased grunts. Slowly you took him into your mouth, enjoying the sensation of his hand gripping your hair.

“Good girl, taking me so well.”

You were soaked just from listening to his praise. You slipped a hand into your underwear and began rubbing your clit.

His breath quickened, and his mouth felt incredibly dry from his inability to close it. His hips jerked, as you took him deeper. He heard you gag as he felt your throat quiver around his cock. He pulled out, letting you catch your breath before he thrust back into your throat. Your eyes rolled and drove a finger into yourself.

You bobbed your head keeping up with the brutal pace he was setting. You loved hearing his grunts and groans; you loved feeling his cock twitch and his pace stagger as he got closer. Despite how hard it was, you looked up at him. His mouth was agape, his eyes barely open. You released him just when you knew he was going to cum.

Wriothesley opened his eyes to see you waiting, mouth open, your mouth and chin dripping with saliva. You looked glorious.

“You’re stunning,” he breathed and released your hair, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping it until the first spray of cum splattered your lips. “So perfect, with such a pretty mouth.”

You licked your lips and opened your mouth again, leaning closer till the tip rested against your tongue.

Wriothesley felt like he was in a dream or heaven or both.

“Swallow it all,” he panted as he pumped the rest onto your tongue.

You did so, licking your lips and opening your mouth to prove it.

At the sight of your flushed face, your blown lust-filled eyes, and your hand deep in your pants, he found himself hardening again. He had promised tonight, and tonight he was going to have. If he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.

“Get on the bed right now, naked and on your back,” he ordered.

You shimmied off your work pants and your underwear, laying on the bed under his hungry gaze. He stood and stripped the rest of his clothes away before joining you on the bed. It was barely big enough for both of you, but he was going to make it work. He kneeled before your closed legs.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good.”

“Just good?” he teased, a smirk on his lips.

“Mhm just good,” you responded, reciprocating the expression.

“Oh, we’ll have to fix that,” he said, and scooping under your thighs, he opened your legs and pulled you closer to him.

You giggled at the speed at which he had your legs wrapped around his waist and his hard cock pressing against your soaked folds. He caged you between his arms as he rolled his hips slowly.

“I love you,” he said, staring into your eyes.

“I love you too,” you responded.

“I know.”

He kissed you with everything in his soul. At some point, he knew you loved him even if you hadn’t said it till just now. He knew it like how he knew the back of his hand but hearing it made it even better. It made it real.

He rubbed the head of his cock against your soaked hole, pushing in the tip just enough to feel you quiver before pulling out and running it over your pussy again.

“If I fuck you, you’re mine. No one touches what is mine. Do you understand?” He asked

Your heart stuttered.

“I understand.”

“After all, no one will be able to fuck you the way I can. Once I’m inside you unless you tell me otherwise, I’m not stopping until we both see stars,” he said, making sure he looked straight into your eyes as he did.

This wasn’t a game for him, he meant every single word and you knew it.

“Wriothesley, there will never be anyone like you.”

He groaned and slid in. Your back arched at the sheer size of his cock stretching you beyond your limits. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, grabbing onto the sheets for support.

“Breathe, relax,” he whispered. “Hold onto me.”

He continued to slowly push in bringing his knees closer giving him the right angle to get in as deep as possible. He gasped upon seeing himself completely disappear inside you. You tightened your legs around his waist, and dragged him down gripping his back, locking you into a mating press.

He waited till the need for release subsided before he began to move. The shitty bedframe, not built for the purpose it was being used for, squeaked, and hit against the wall. The sound of skin slapping against skin, and stifled cries joined the air disturbing whatever sorry soul had the misfortune of being on the other side of the wall. Neither of you cared at that moment. Within minutes you had already come twice.

Your chest heaved, and Wriothesley cupped them leaving bites all over your breasts, he avoided any place people would be able to see but needed to mark you somewhere. He moved back up to your ear and nibbled on the lobe.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he said quietly.

You slipped a hand between your rocking bodies and began to rub your clit. Wriothesley leaned back till he was kneeling. Gripping your waist, he continued to fuck you watching with hawk-like focus the way your fingers played with your clit. It was like you were under display, laid out for him to observe and study, and you were.

“So, that’s how you like it?” he said, feeling your walls clench around him for the third time that night.

You whimpered in response, your words had long since failed you. You began to slow as your hand grew tired and your body became closer to a collection of jolting nerves than functioning limbs.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You can give me two more, right?” he said.

You moaned as he replaced your hand continuing to rub your clit just as vigorously as you had started.

“Wriothesley,” you cried,

“Ssh, you’ve got this. Let go. Be a good girl and give me two more,” he urged you on.

You bit your lip and threw your head back letting out another cry which he swallowed eagerly. Your walls clenched again, and your body began to show the signs of a squirt. You sprayed, your legs shaking, your toes curling.

“Shit, you’re incredible. One more,” he captured your lips. “You’ve done so good. Just give me one more, my love,” he said against them.

One more and he would be satisfied. One more and he could guarantee that he would have enough resolve to follow through with his plans. Just one more.

You shivered again and bit down on his bottom lip as your final climax washed over you barely a minute later. He growled at the pain, tugging his lip from your mouth, and kissing you properly.

“Well done,” he said but continued thrusting at the same brutal pace. “I’m nearly there.”

You used what little strength you had to keep him inside. He said your name for what was the thousandth time that night.

“Not tonight,” he panted, smiling against your lips. “Trust me, I want to. I do, but not tonight.”

He pulled out and kissed you softly, stroking himself until his release painted your stomach. He kissed your forehead and rolled off you to not squash you under his weight.

You turned onto your side and cuddled into him. He wrapped his arms around you and entangled your limbs. You faced each other on the damp sheets.

It felt like time stopped. Everything melted away, you didn’t know whether it had been forty or four hours, and you didn’t care. You felt sticky and wet, the only thing cooling you down was the natural coolness of his skin on yours. Sleep drifted over you like a blanket not soon after. You tried to fight it off, wishing to talk to him longer; to try and convince him against fighting the administrator; to find a way with you because as long as you had each other you knew everything would be okay…

“Everything is going to be okay,” he said quietly as if he had read your mind, sending you off to sleep. “It’s all going to be okay.”

When you woke the next morning, well when the sound of the guards woke you from your sex-induced coma, Wriothesley was gone.

Remember your safeword.

You woke to cool scarred arms wrapped securely around your waist. Wriothesley’s head rested on your breasts. Flecks of grey mixed seamlessly into the stream of black hair reminded you that you were no longer in the past. You shifted slightly to free an arm. He grumbled something and nuzzled his head further into your breasts, securing his arms tighter around you as if afraid you were going to disappear. It was a habit he had developed over the years, an incessant need to hold onto you when he slept. You didn’t mind it too much, you liked being cold when you went to bed; it helped you sleep better.

“Wriothesley,” you whispered and ran a hand through his hair. You laid a peck on his forehead, and he stirred.

“Is it morning already?” he grumbled, though his eyes remained closed.

He had been awake for as long as you had been lost in your thoughts, silently listening to the sound of your pounding heart. He couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts ailed you on nights like these.

You admired the thick dark lashes casting shadows over his face.

“No, I just can’t sleep,” you said.

You knew his skin like the back of your hand. The scar under his eye, the scar on his neck that led down to the center of his breastplate and stopped on his sternum. The ones wrapped around his arms, the ones that scattered his waist and stomach, the ones on his thighs; even the small faint one on his calf from when he fell over as a kid. He told you that was when he knew his skin was going to be littered with scars. Wriothesley scarred easily and he scarred badly. However, despite their jagged appearances, none of them were too hideous for you to bear. You didn’t like them, but you loved Wriothesley, and as they were as a part of him as any other part of him, you learnt to love them too. They represented how many battles he had won. They represented every promise kept.

You lifted his head up and kissed the scar on his face, the one right under his eye.

You could feel his hardened cock pressing against your thigh. His pupils were blown when he finally opened his eyes.

He loved you so much it hurt. Yes, physically but also mentally. He loved how you accepted him, he loved how you chose him, and he loved how you chose you too. Most of all he loved how you looked when you teased him, so raw, so ripe, so ready to dismantle you completely.

“Oh, I can think of ways to help with that,” he murmured.

“I don’t know if I have the stamina, your grace,” you teased.

He let out a guttural noise.

He nibbled and sucked on your nipple, messaging your other breast in his cold, rough hands. Your breath staggered as you gave in to his touch. The sound went straight to his cock. He had fucked you into the sheets earlier that night, till you were blubbering and couldn’t remember your own name. Still, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough; he would never get enough of you. Despite your fear that one day he would disappear, he never would. It was Wriothesley who worried that one day you would grow tired of his incessant need to be near you; to have you, to consume you. So, he savoured every squirm, every shiver, every breathy gasp of his name that you would spare him, terrified that they’d be his last.

“Ah, well it’s a good thing that I have enough stamina for the both of us,” he said switching his attention from one boob to the other. The earlier hickeys had already darkened on your skin. “Think you can cum again?”

He would kiss each one later wishing for them to last forever.

“You’re insatiable,” you blushed.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I have my favourite meal right where I want her,” he said and began to trail his tongue down your stomach towards your sensitive clit. He wanted you on his tongue, in his senses… everywhere.

“Do you remember your safeword?” he asked. It was what he always did before you both did anything sexual beyond intimate fondling and brisk kisses.

“Time,” you said.

“Good girl.” He half grinned.

He continued teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, absorbing every twitch and shake of your body.

“Wriothesley,” you spluttered. “I need you.”

“You’ve got me,” he said.

He slipped his tongue into you, circling, lapping, like a man possessed he devoured you. His nose brushed against your skin. It was knowing his eyes were on you the entire time that made everything feel ten times more stimulating. You let out a quiet gasp and gripped his hair.

“You’re so good for me.” He gave you a broad lick. “So perfect.”

He replaced his tongue with his fingers, curling them inside you and scissoring them open to stretch you out not that you needed much with how well he had fucked you before. Still, it was the thought of giving you pleasure that spurred him on.

“Wriothesley,” you said.

He hummed to show you he was listening, the vibration made you quiver.

“I want your cuffs.”

He paused and pulled away, perking up. He secretly loved it when you surprised him.

“Oh? What for?”

You smiled and gestured for his cuffs. He scrambled off the queen-sized bed and walked butt naked to where he left his cuffs. You admired his ass from the bed. He had a great ass, he knew it too, it was why he wore his jacket around Meropide. His nickname Ricecake had gotten around the Fortress years ago and whilst it was okay when he was a convict, he didn’t need that level of familiarity as the Duke. Besides, you were the only one he wanted observing his ass.

He climbed back onto the bed and handed them to you, the spiked metal looked so good in your hands. His eyes flickered to the rings on your ring finger—his rings. The ones he gave you when he officially proposed.

He never ended up fighting that day due to the administrator’s sudden disappearance.

He recalled how you had run around Meropide searching for him, your hair a mess, the beginnings of one of the love bites he had left dauntingly close to view, poking out of one of his shirts that you had thrown on instead of your own. He recalled how you had slammed open the door to the administrator’s office, breathless, beautiful, with your eyes full of tears to him sitting behind the desk organising the abandoned files. He recalled how he claimed you again there, in that office over and over and over again. The other man’s ring was long gone somewhere down the many drains of Meropide, and your sentence cleared not long after. There were perks to becoming the administrator of the fortress of Meropide. Perks that had the maid of that man who hurt you disappear to a place only known by Celestia, the Archons, Navia, and Wriothesley. Neuvillette knew too but unless there was a trial, he would keep his nose out of it.

You knelt on the bed swinging the cuffs on your fingers.

“Where have you gone?” you cooed bringing him back to reality.

“Mm, nowhere, just admiring the view,” he said coolly.

You shook your head and pushed him to lay back against the pillows.

“You’re working too hard, your grace. I can fix that,” you said and straddled him.

Reaching above him, you cuffed his arms to the bed frame.

He cocked a brow and playfully tugged against the restraints.

“Ah, I hope so,” he said.

You kissed the corner of his mouth, smirking.

His cock twitched at the memory of your first time together.

“Remember the safeword?” you asked.

Seeing you sat on him, your eyes filled with life, he couldn’t care less that you didn’t remember your past before Meropide. He didn’t care that you didn’t recall how he was the boy you gave bread to once when you spotted him wandering away from his home. How you had given him, a complete stranger what looked like your last piece of food because he was sitting alone. He didn’t care if all you remembered was your last two and a half decades together… because you were here now with him. You chose him just as he chose you.

“Time," he responded.

masterlist

Reblogs w/ tags and comments are very much appreciated! If you enjoyed this, please feel free to consider dropping a follow as well! <3

Also, if you like my writing and wish to support me, please consider buying me a coffee via Ko-fi!

#wriothesley imagines #genshin impact #wriothesley fanfic #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin smut #fluff #smut #angst #light angst #angst with a happy ending

520 notes · View notes

so-long-soldier-writes · 7 months ago

Text

Gorgeous

kai parker x reader (both 18+!) (shy!virgin!kai)

summary: troubled by his own body, kai's afraid to go all the way with you. that is, until you confess you love him regardless of the way he looks, giving him just the confidence he's needed all along.

tags: friends to lovers, kissing, minor fingering, shy!kai, mentions of child abuse / physical abuse [I can't just write a normal fic, can I?], implied s3lf h4rm, emotional hurt / comfort, confessions, making out, blow jobs, virgin!kai, top / bottom switching, reader is a little freaky, nipple sucking, pet names, aftercare, cuddling

word count: 5.5k

a/n: sooooo... this has been sitting in my wips for over a year. for some reason, i just never posted it. but unfortunately, i have work tomorrow, so i'll be dead as a doornail that evening, and the work i wanted to post isn't done yet, so i'll post this in the meantime. that being said, i think i'm finally starting to get back in the swing of things. i'm still working on requests as well as other stuff, but i'm coming back slowly!

also, if this idea is totally unusual, that's probably why it sat in my drafts for a year. it's a year old fluffy smut with a strange premise. bare with me. 😅

The minute you get back from work, you collapse onto the nearest chair and groan.

“You okay there?”

Looking up, you see Jo and her boyfriend on the couch watching a movie. Oops.

“Sorry. Yeah. Long day. Where is everyone?”

“Our dads went to the flooding company people to try and get that situation covered, and our moms took the kids to the park.”

“My brother too?”

“Your brother, but not mine.”

“Cool,” you give the girl a thumbs up. “Hey Cody.”

Jo’s boyfriend looks over at you, “hey, Y/N.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go shower.”

“Okay!”

You make your way up the stairs slowly, wondering where Kai is. Poking your head in his room, you see he’s not in there, but you don’t hear him anywhere else. Oh well. You’ll find him after your shower, because you really, really need that shower.

In your room - also the Parker’s guest room - you grab a new set of clothes and your hairbrush, before going into the guest bathroom in the hallway. See, you and the Parkers are neighbors and have become close family friends. Though one night after a really bad storm, your basement flooded, as did several other houses nearby. This is a problem Mr. Parker could easily fix with magic, but considering the electric and flooding companies know your house was one of the ones affected, he can’t do anything without revealing his coven. Instead, your family temporarily moved in with his until the county could fix the issue.

It’s been two weeks, no progress. But you’re not complaining; you get to spend more time with Kai - your best friend who you’ve recently started dating in secret.

As you’re busy undressing and getting the water ready, you don’t hear Kai come in from outside. The boy stands in the kitchen, staring at nothing in particular.

“Is everyone still out?” He hesitantly asks Jo.

“Yeah. But Y/N came home.”

“Oh. Where is she?”

“Mhm, went upstairs.” Then she snaps her fingers, “oh wait! She said she’s taking a shower. So don’t bother her. Just go to your room and wait for her to come out. Don’t be weird.”

Kai scrunches his nose. As if he’d ever make you uncomfortable on purpose. “Okay, thanks.”

Quietly, he makes his way upstairs. When he hears the water running, he bites his lip. Don’t be weird, Jo had just said. But she doesn’t know how close you two actually are. Swallowing hard, he slowly turns the knob to the bathroom door, trying not to alert Jo to which door he’s opening. Inside, the hot water steams up the mirrors, making it hard to see, but he can vaguely point out your figure through the glass.

“Y/N?”

You hear him and pop your head out of the door, “Kai! Hi. Come in,” you gesture for him to enter all the way.

He does, then shuts the door just as quietly. “I don’t mean to bug you, I just wanted to make sure you were here. Jo said you were, but…” he shrugs.

“You’re not bugging. Come on, join me.”

“What?”

“In here.”

“But… I’m wearing jeans.”

“Well then take them off, you goof.”

“I-I… um.”

Deciding to give him privacy, you stick your head back in the shower and rinse out the shampoo. The whole time you’re finishing your shower routine, you assume Kai’s going to join you at any time. You haven’t gone that far in your relationship yet, but he is a teenage boy, and he does love kissing you every chance he gets.

You two have done more than kissing, of course, but just haven’t gone all the way. And there’s plenty of reasons for that: too many people in this damn house, someone might walk in, someone might overhear, etc. etc. etc. But aside from the obvious reasons, you can’t help but feel like there’s also reasons that Kai isn’t sharing.

He likes to spend a lot of your time together practically worshipping your body. His lips and fingers have touched nearly every part of you, but he isn’t too keen on letting you do the same.

Kai holds you in place with a hand on your neck. His lips are attached right below, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His other hand’s busy farther down - two fingers pumping in and out of you quickly. You bite your lip hard to not moan as you cum on his hands. He continues to finger fuck you through your orgasm, not letting up until your body stills. Then, he tastes one finger before putting the second in your mouth. You suck on it, eyes trained on him the whole time.

“My turn. Let me make you feel good, Kai.”

“You are. I like watching you like this.”

“No, I know. But I want to taste you, too. Let me blow you.”

Kai bites his lip as if he’s having an internal debate. “Isn’t this so much better, though?” Before you can say anything else, he kisses you, feeling his hands up and down the sides of your body as he does. “Now let me cuddle you, m’kay? Let me take care of you.”

You’re too overwhelmed in pleasure to fight, and succumb to his open arms. Minutes later, you’re both asleep.

You don’t pry if he tells you ‘no’ the first time, but of course, you can’t help but wonder why he’s never let you even see his body.

“Take your shirt off, why am I the only one exposed?” You joke, pulling at the hem.

“Hmph, no, baby, I’m too focused on you,” he says.

Every time. He won’t even take his bracelets off, let alone any of his clothes. Again, you don’t push him - he’ll take that step when he’s ready - but you really want to pleasure him the same way he does you. And besides, he just has to be hot under there; his face is insanely attractive, arms are strong, and figure is lean. You’re dying to know.

“Y/N?” His voice snaps you from your thoughts.

“Mhm?”

“I, um, actually nevermind.”

“You okay, angel?”

“Yeah, just…”

Done with your shower, you turn off the water and grab your towel. You would just go out nude despite him there, but you know the air will be cold, so you wrap the blue cloth around your body. “Well now I’m done.” Carefully, you open the door and step off the slippery floor.

In front of you, Kai is standing awkwardly. His jeans are still on, but his shirt is off and folded neatly on the bathroom counter. You gulp the minute you see his body for the first time. As you expected, he’s lean and rather well-toned for someone not allowed out of his house much. His arms have some muscle to them, and you can see several prominent veins close to the surface of his skin. What catches your eye most, however, is the sharp v-line shaping his hips, leading to somewhere still hidden from your sight. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath.

Kai swallows hard. His eyes are red. You don’t notice the signs of discomfort, though, until a small sigh escapes his lips.

You narrow your eyes when you hear him. “What's wrong, pumpkin?” Hurrying towards him, you cup the sides of his face. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I hate it.”

“Hate what?”

“Hate my body.”

“What do you mean? You’re gorgeous, Kai.”

“All the ew, all the stupid… everything.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t see anything ‘ew’.”

“Look closer.”

“Are you sure? If you’re uncomfortable, I won’t.”

“Just do it.”

Nervous, you step back to look at him closer. “Oh,” you mutter, suddenly saddened. Discolored skin in shades of green, yellow, and purple. Bruises, new and old. Handprints, whip marks, slaps from an open palm, all fading from red. Then there are the cuts, up and down his arms, some on his stomach, some on his shoulders. Clearly self-inflicted, though the bruises were all clearly marks of abuse.

“Now you see how ugly I really am.”

“No, no, Kai…” Gently, you run a finger across a row of evidential abuse. He flinches a little and you can’t help the tear that falls from your eyes. “You’re still gorgeous, baby.”

“Hm,” he mutters, shaking his head ‘no’.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. I promise. You are still beautiful to me. And I still want you, I still want every inch of your body. You don’t have to hide from me. Hey, I have some, too.”

You peel the towel away a bit to expose several cuts along your upper arm.

He sniffs, “those weren’t there the other day.”

“I know, baby. But yesterday was really hard with my dad, and this was the only way I could think of to cope.”

Kai remembers yesterday. Your dad had forced you to go out with him to visit different universities in the area. By the time you both got back, he was fuming and you were holding back tears.

“He got pissed at me when I said I didn’t want to go to college. He asked me why I was the family failure, and why I couldn’t be more like him.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay, now that I’m back beside you.”

“He’s a dick. Your brother’s a dick.”

“My point is, Kai, that we have a lot of the same scars. You don’t think I’m any less beautiful because of them, so why should you think that about yourself?”

“Because I also have bruises from my fucking dad.”

“That’s not your fault, baby. Your dad is an even bigger dick than mine. And just because you have wounds on your body from his hand doesn’t mean I don’t love you or your body any less.”

Kai freezes, “you love me?”

You then freeze, too. “I, um…” Then you realize that that confession may be exactly what he needs to hear. “Yes. I do love you, Kai.”

Tears that were welling in his eyes are now falling, “why?”

“Why? Why not? Because on top of being absolutely gorgeous, you’re an amazing friend and boyfriend. You’re sweet and gentle and trying your best despite the awful circumstances you’ve been given. You’re always there through the good and bad, and I could never get tired of being with you.”

“Can I admit that I love you, too?”

You smile and nod happily before leaning in quickly to kiss him. Amidst your excitement, your towel falls from your body, and your breasts rub up against his bare chest. Kai lets out a moan at the contact, but then separates from the kiss to cover his mouth with his hand. You just raise your eyebrows at him.

“Feel good?”

Instead of answering, his hands find your breasts and feel them. His eyes roll back in his head. “So soft,” he mutters.

“Kai?”

“Hm?”

“Does this mean I can see you now?”

“Um, I, n- uh-” he stutters over every word.

“You know what? It’s okay. Later?”

“Okay.”

“Sounds good. And I hate to say it, but we have to stop,” you pause to pull on your panties and jeans, “because Jo will start getting suspicious soon,” you have to ignore Kai’s pouting face as you put on your bra, “and she doesn’t need to see us like this, because she’ll tell your dad.” Your shirt is on next, “and then my dad. And then you’ll get hurt.” He watches you pull your hair out from under your shirt and flip it to curl around your face, “and you’re not getting hurt on my watch. Okay?”

Kai nods, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, pumpkin.” You two share another kiss before leaving the bathroom. Kai grabs his shirt on the way out, fumbling to put it on, along with his multiple bracelets. “Downstairs? I need some water.”

“Sure.”

The minute you reach the last step, Jo calls out to you, “did Kai find you?”

“Yeah, he’s here.”

“Okay. He came in a little bit after you went up. I told him you were in the shower, but not to bother you. He listened to me, right?”

“He didn’t bother me at all. Was very gentlemanly and waited in his room for me to come out.” You wink at Kai as you lie straight to Jo’s turned face. Luckily, she’s fixated on the movie.

“Okay, good.”

“I’m just going to get a drink and then we’ll be out of your hair shortly.”

◇◇◇◇

“Y/N, are you sure you don’t want to come with us? It’s a huge festival, it’s a lot of fun,” Mr. Parker asks one more time as he’s halfway out the door.

You take another glance at the amount of people crowding the doorway: your brother and parents, plus Kai’s parents and all his siblings. Minus him, of course. “I’m sure. I’m not too big on crowds, and I’m kinda tired. Might just see if Kai wants to watch a movie.”

“Okay, but be careful.” Then, Mr. Parker leans closer to whisper in your ear. The gray hairs of his beard lightly touch your skin, making you shiver in fear. “And don’t get too close to him.”

“Noted.”

“We should be back around three-ish, more or less,” your Dad adds.

“Okay.”

“Don’t leave the house, and certainly don’t let him sneak out,” Mr. Parker piggy-backs off your dad’s comment. Jeez, it’s like they’re long-lost irritating brothers.

“I won’t. He’ll stay here with me.”

“But not too close, becau-”

“I heard it the first time, Dad. I trust Kai enough that we’ll be fine for a couple of hours. Go have fun, okay?” You had to downplay your friendship to make them think you only trusted him a little. If they knew the truth - that you’d trust him with your life - they’d definitely stage an intervention and never let you see each other again.

“Okay, just making sure. See you later, Y/N.”

“Bye.”

Finally, they leave. It takes ten minutes for nine kids to assemble between two cars, between the Parkers’ van and your parents’ SUV, but they eventually make it work. You can literally hear two kids crying over “having to sit in the back again”, but then you hear your Dad’s voice, “ride with me, if it’s okay with your Dad.” The crying ceases at last, and the cars pull out of the gate.

“Are they gone yet?” Kai comes downstairs about a minute after they left.

“Just pulled out. What were you doing?”

He swallows, “um.” While struggling to answer, you give him a look. “I’m used to hiding during the van-packing process.”

“Okay,” you answer, not entirely convinced.

He bites his lip, “okay, that part is true. I do hide when they do that because sometimes someone storms back in to grab something to appease the ones stuck in the back, like a snack or whatever. But, um, what I was actually doing was… trying to,” he pauses, and you let him find the words, “build up the courage to, um… can I just kiss you?”

You’re confused, but you’ll never deny him a kiss. Smile forming on your lips, you close the three foot gap between you two, hands tracing his jawline, capturing his face, while kissing him softly. His hands find your waist, gripping your hips. There’s something different about this kiss than your usual ones. Something more hungry… willing, maybe. Whatever it is, you let him take charge.

As soon as the shift in control changes, he spins the both of you around so that you’re pressed into the counter, rather than himself, while he kisses you deeper. His lips leave your mouth to trail down your jaw, to your neck, but then he suddenly stops to look up at you.

“Everything okay?”

“Can we go upstairs?”

“Of course.” You joke, “afraid someone’s gonna walk in?”

He misses your teasing tone and replies bluntly, “no, I wanna fuck you.”

You nearly trip up the first stair, causing you to grab a tight hold of his hand. “What’d you say?”

“Is that okay?”

“I-uh-um- yes, just caught me off guard. What brought it on?”

“You said you loved me. And that you liked my body even with all the scars. And that if I can love yours with scars, you can love mine.”

“I did say that. I meant every word.”

“And so now we’re here alone, and I’m going to act on something I’ve wanted to do a long time ago.”

You reach the top of the stairs. He has an arm around your back to prevent you from falling, just in case, as he stares into your eyes for hesitancy. You give none. “Then do it.”

Instantly, your back collides with the hallway wall and he kisses you with the same tenacity he did downstairs. Out of habit, your hands find his hair; his, your waist, but he’s a lot more confident now. Slowly, he inches the both of you towards his door. His hand fumbles with the knob, making him frustrated.

“Wish I could just open the stupid thing with magic.”

“If I had magic, I’d let you take it whenever,” you answer, again, with no hesitancy.

He stops to stare at you. “You would?”

“Mhm. I mean it, Kai, I love you.”

“But the siphoning hurts.”

You shrug, “can’t hurt that bad. I imagine it’d probably actually feel good. At least for me, maybe not other people. Send little tingles all the way down to my-”

He cuts you off with an open mouthed kiss. “Now I really wish you had magic.”

“-and then a part of me would kinda be in your blood, too, right?” You finish the second part of what you wanted to say.

“Holy fuck, you’re turning me on.”

“Open the door, Kai,” you urge.

He finally does, but in the second you take to catch a breath, he’s back on you. He takes advantage of your state and slips his tongue in your mouth, no regard for anything but his and your pleasures. You go weak in his arms and let him explore, enjoying the feeling much more than you probably should. Then, he taps on your hips signaling for you to jump. You do, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you to the bed, finally, and throws you down rather roughly.

Immediately, panic takes over his face. “Shit, that was way harder than I meant to! You okay?”

You, on the other hand, can’t get a word out because you’re giggling too hard.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He tries again.

“You’re so hot when you’re all dominant. Well, you’re always hot, but-” and then you continue to giggle.

Kai relaxes, realizing he didn’t hurt you. “Oh you little-” he climbs on top of you until he’s hovering over your face. Legs tangle together, bodies close but not close enough… You buck your hips. There, now they’re close enough. “You’ve been wanting this,” he observes, fighting back a moan at the contact.

“Yes, but also, your comfort is my number one priority. It’s much better now, with you enjoying it too, than if we were to try when you weren’t ready.”

“Thank you, princess,” he kisses your nose sweetly.

“Thank you for trusting me. One thing though.”

“Mhm?”

“Do you trust me right now?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Without further warning, you grab his wrists and flip him over so that his back is pressed into the bed. It’s the first time you’ve ever been on top of him, and the power makes you giddy.

“I thought you liked me being dominant?”

“Oh, I do. But I also want to see you writhe under me,” you wink at him.

Kai gives you a look, and you know he’s going to start fighting any minute now. It’s in his eyes, and you can feel his muscles under you tensing to build up the strength. In the last second before you think he’s going to try and take charge, your hand goes down to the outline forming in his jeans. All fight is immediately gone as soon as you start to feel him. He can’t even fight the moan he’s been holding back since you started making out downstairs. The sound spurs you on and you rub him harder.

“More, princess. Please.”

You move your legs to straddle him, hands going to his belt. “This okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Words, please.”

“What am I, five?”

You cock your head at him. “Words, or no further touching.”

“Princess,” he tries to buck his hips like you did, but you’re holding him down.

“Come on, Malachai.”

“Don’t use that name.”

“Mala-”

“Fine! Yes, please. It’s okay. Please.” You smirk, not expecting the begging, but loving it. “You little sadist.”

That only makes you love it more. Not wasting another second, your hands are undoing his belt. As much as you want to take it slowly, you’re both too excited to drag it out any longer. Besides, just by looking at him, you can see how hard he is, and you know you’re almost soaking your panties with wetness.

“Wait,” he pants.

You stop immediately. “You okay?”

“I need… I need. C’mere,” he beckons you forward, and you listen. “Need this off,” he pulls off your shirt. “And this,” next is your bra. The minute it’s off, he loses control and grabs your tits like he did in the bathroom a couple days earlier. Before you know it, he’s fondling one while the other’s in his mouth.

“If mine is, this is coming off, too.” You make a grab for his shirt. He pauses, tongue still around your nipple. “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” he seems to decide in that instant.

In order for you to pull the fabric over his head, he has to disconnect his mouth from your breast. But when it’s off, he swallows hard and doesn’t reach for them again.

“Kai… c’mon, pumpkin.” You take his hand to put it back on your body, trying to return that sense of comfort, but he doesn’t grasp your breast again. Sighing, you take it as a moment to get a closer look at his body. The bruises, the scars, everything. A tear escapes your eye, and you lean down to press a kiss to one of the purplish wounds. Then, you start to do that with all of them. From his neck to his hips, you kiss every mark made on his body, whether by his dad’s hand or his own. On the fresher ones, your lips are more gentle, barely there, not wanting to cause him more pain. But on the older ones, you leave multiple kisses, or even lick them with your tongue before kissing. “I meant it, Kai. You’re gorgeous. These marks don’t stop me from loving you.”

Slowly, he makes eye contact with you again. His hands reach out to your face, and when he gets a hold of you, he pulls you in for another deep kiss on his lips. “What did I do to deserve you?” He asks with a tear emerging.

“You don’t have to deserve love, baby.” You kiss his collarbone.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Your lips travel to his chest. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, you swirl your tongue around one of his nipples. He moans loudly, arching his back.

“Holy shit, I didn’t know that would feel that good.”

“Can I continue to make you feel things like that?”

“Yes, please. I need it, I need you. Wait, but let me-” he suddenly sticks two fingers into your wet heat, hovering over his own body, and pops them in his mouth. “You taste so good.”

“Are you gonna let me taste you now?”

“Sure. Yes. I meant yes.”

Your eyes warm and you continue to kiss him further down - this time, trailing his v-line. You had noticed the prominent indents the other day, but are now getting to see it up close. He moans again, enticing you more.

“Princess.”

“I’m working on it.” Finally, you shrug his jeans down and off his body. You can tell he’s fighting the urge to hide his now-bare legs, but you opt to not pay attention to them anyway. Your gaze goes straight to the bulge in his boxers that looks even thicker without his jeans in the way. Mouth watering, you touch him first, enjoying the feeling.

“Y/N, please. It’s uncomfortable. Too tight.”

Succumbing to his wishes, you tap his hips for him to lift them, then peel back the final confinement. His cock springs out, slapping his stomach in the process. You’re quick to lean forward and lick a stripe from the base to the tip. Kai sinks his head into the pillow, groaning huskily. After pulling his boxers all the way off, you refocus your attention back to the length in front of you.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” you mutter. The praise makes him twitch, and you immediately reach out to grasp him between two of your fingers. “Need to taste.” And then you finally do. You start at the tip, rolling your tongue over the slit counter clockwise, stimulating precum in the process. Some of it leaks into your mouth, straight down your throat, but most of it drips down the side of cock. It doesn’t get far, though, before you move your head to catch it, licking your way from the base to the tip, again.

A shiver runs through his body. “Feels so good.” Barely audible, but you hear him.

Positioning your head over him, you prepare to take him fully. To you, it’s a five second break of deep breaths, but to Kai, overwhelmed in pleasure, there’s almost no warning. As soon as you’re ready, you sink your mouth down on him until you get about halfway and your gag reflex kicks in. Cock hitting the back of your throat, you gag around him.

“Y/N, you okay?” He sits up on his elbows, worried he’d accidentally hurt you.

Slowly, you lift your head back up, “I’m good, baby. Just training my throat to take you.”

He swallows so hard that you see his Adam’s apple bob. “Oh, um…” He doesn’t lay back down, opting to watch you instead.

You don’t mind as you go down for a second time, getting further now. You do it several times, taking more and more of him each time. Your tongue swirls around his length and traces his veins. In fact, there’s one vein in particular that especially makes Kai moan every time you hit it. It’s on the underside of his cock, and you start to pay special attention to it. The rest of his length sits against your face as you focus on it.

Kai doesn’t know if the sight or the feeling is affecting him more. Either way, he feels himself getting close to release. Your mouth is around him, head bobbing up and down rapidly, when he twitches. He whines, resisting the urge to hold your head where he wants. Suddenly, though, you stop and remove your mouth completely.

“Fuck, wait, I’m about to…”

“I know, pumpkin. Can’t let you do that yet.”

He’s about to ask why, but then sees his answer. In one quick motion, you’re removing your own pants and lining your bodies together. “Ready?”

“Mhm. Yes.”

You smile, grab his cock to hold it upright, then sink your heat down onto him. Kai collapses, elbows no longer supporting him, as pleasure consumes him.

“You okay?”

“Yes, oh- oh god.”

“Can I move? I’ll start slow.”

“Please.”

As promised, you slowly begin to ride his length. Your hands rest on either side of his body and lips are pressed to his chest, leaving hot kisses all over his skin.

“Let me know if you want to try and take over.”

“Okay.”

When Kai starts to relax, you pick up the pace. Not too fast, but little by little. Soon, his hands find your hips and he helps guide you. His fingers have a tight grip on you, but it only makes you wetter.

“I think, I wanna… wanna try…”

“Want to be on top, angel?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay. You can just flip us or I can move, what are you feeling?” But the hungry look in his eyes already gives you your answer.

As soon as you nod and grab onto his shoulders, he flips the both of you so that you’re now pressed into the bed. With his usual role re-established, so does his dominance. You open your legs wider to give him more access, and he immediately takes advantage of it. With a lick of his lips, he pushes his cock into you, not stopping until he’s run out of length.

“Oh my god,” you mutter.

“Is it too much?”

“No, you’re perfect. Move when you’re ready, mmkay?”

He nods, then copies the way you rode him when he begins to move: arms on your side, head ducked into your chest. His lips attach to your nipples, sucking, and pulling them between his teeth. When he gets a hold of his balance, you feel pressure on your clit, too.

“Fuck, Kai. You’re so good.”

His body jolts, “say it again.”

“What?”

“Name. Say it again.”

“Kai,” you pant as he quickens pace.

“No one else is home baby, say it louder.”

You had forgotten this fact, actually, but the minute he reminds you, you let yourself go. “Fuck,” you moan, rather loudly, “feels so good, Kai! Fuck. Harder.”

He spreads your legs wider and thrusts harder upon request. Obscene sounds fill the room, mixed with your moans and whimpers.

“Kai,” you pant, “need to hear you, too.”

“I’d rather hear you, Princess.”

“Aw, come on, gorgeous. Nothing turns me on more than men moaning,” you admit. “Need to hear you.”

Previously held-back grunts and groans tumble from his mouth at your confession. When his lips return to your nipple, he makes sure to keep up with your request, sending vibrations throughout your body.

“I’m close, Kai. So close, so close… don’t stop what you’re doing.”

“I’m getting there, too,” he twitches again. “Come for me, Princess.”

As soon as he asks, your orgasm rips through your body. Loud moans follow, and your eyes roll back in your head. Kai rides you through yours, before pulling out and immediately releasing all over your face and chest. Some drips off your shoulders, down to the bedsheets.

The minute he catches his breath, a worried expression takes over his face, “I’m sorry! I knew I shouldn’t do it inside you, but wasn’t sure where else to. I aimed for your chest and misfired.”

You make direct eye contact with him, then swipe a bunch off your cheek with your finger before sucking it off. “Oh, I’ll never complain about a facial.” You dart your tongue out to the side to gather more. “And don’t worry, I kinda like the taste. How the hell were you a virgin, Kai?! You were amazing the whole way through!”

He blushes, “um, thank you.”

You can’t help but giggle. Only Kai would be sweet enough to thank you for complimenting his sexual ability. Your ex-boyfriend, to whom you had lost your virginity, threw you an, “I know,” when you told him he was good. This little fact just made you love Kai even more.

Then, as if he couldn’t get more perfect, his next words are, “can I clean you up now, Princess? And then we can cuddle and nap?”

“Of course. Give me a kiss first.”

Kai leans forward and kisses you sweetly. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, wetting it gently.

“Blood,” he comments.

“Hm?”

“There’s blood on your lip.”

You run your own tongue along it, “must’ve bit it in pleasure.”

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He pulls on a loose pair of sweatpants from his drawer, giving you a wink.

“Okay, darling.”

Two minutes later, Kai returns with a warm rag and a water bottle. First, he cleans the small sore and any remaining blood off your lip, then hands you the bottle. “Drink,” he insists. As you do, he moves the rag over your face and down your neck and chest, cleaning off his drying cum. He rubs your lower body next, easing some of the soreness as well as wiping away your cum. “Anywhere else?”

“No, I’m okay. Do you need anything?”

“Just you,” he sappily replies.

“Okay, come here then.” Arms wide open, you gather him up and pull him close. You take a hand away for a split-second to pull the blankets over you two, earning a whine before he realizes what you’re doing. As soon as your arm is back around him, he snuggles into your body. “I love you, Kai,” you whisper with your lips against his cheek.

“I love you, too, Princess. Thank you for making me feel like I’m worth something to someone.”

As much as his words sadden you, they also make you feel warm inside. You’re the one that makes him feel that way, and that’s pretty fucking special.

“Always, my sweetheart.” You give him a kiss to the cheek, keeping your lips there even afterwards. His heartbeat slows into a comfortable rhythm and breathing evens out, and soon, he’s fast asleep in your arms.

#malachai parker x reader #kai parker x reader #kai parker fluff #kai parker smut #tw: child abuse #tw: s3lf h4rm mentions #tvd fanfiction #virgin kai parker #shy virgin kai - my favorite flavor 😂😅

282 notes · View notes