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bitchimasnake-sss · 5 months ago

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☆ suck-suck-succubus! ── a blue lock fanfiction. // where you come to wreck the blue lock boys but end up ruined instead.

synopsis: ego jinpachi was a crazed man, a man who had raised a team of monsters that devoured everything on field and made their way to national team in just their early twenties. but were these men ready to be the greatest just yet? were they ready to leave behind dirty temptations and sickening thoughts just to be the greatest? good thing he knew just the person to test them. pairing: afab!reader x multiple men [aged up isagi yoichi, rin itoshi, hyoma chigiri, meguru bachira, rensuke kunigami, nagi seishiro, reo mikage.] // every character gets a separate drabble with the same character (reader.) and it's implied that the reader has slept with them all. cw: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. [this means the story contains themes one may not be comfortable with. if you find yourself growing uncomfortable, please click away.] NOT PROOFREAD. WRITTEN DURING A DELUSIONAL PHASE. MDNI. girl don't. nsfw concludes: penetration, doin' it raw, cunnilingus, blowjob, teasing, nicknames, slight bimbofication and teasing, overstimulation, praise, marathon sex. please read it whole or i'll hunt you. pretty please :) m.list [part 02]

"you know what to do." the man nodded once, not even sending a fleeting glance your way as he casually leaned back into his chair, "just try to break them."

"i don't have to try, ego. just say the word and i would have already gotten them wrapped 'round my finger."

"that delusional?" the man enquired and you didn't miss the sharp glint in his eyes behind those rimmed glasses. all you could do was smile, "that confident. but—" your words drawled on, fingers clasping over the mahogany table, "what do i get from this?"

ego jinpachi smiled, and the sight sent shivers down spine. a cheque slid over to your side, a clear sum of one million yen printed neatly for you to claim. you stared at the piece of paper a second too long before dragging your gaze to the crazed man, "you're offering me money to ruin your players?"

"try your best." the man sat up straight, his lanky frame shifting under his usual suit, "ruin them if you can."

you knew ego jinpachi was an eccentric man, and you knew you owed him a favor from years ago. but for him to have called you, and asked you to seduce his own team before they went for championship felt crazy... even by his standards.

"why are you doing this?" you asked, nimble fingers mindlessly pulling the cheque and turning it around in your palm, "they're your team. don't you want them focused before the championship?"

"don't question me."

fair enough. after all, you were getting paid.

★player 01: isagi yoichi! ya think i don't know what i'm doing?

you had heard of the man, seen him on your television screen game after game. flowing, black hair, blue eyes with a crazed look every time he was on the field. isagi yoichi was a beast; an ever-evolving phantom that possibly haunted every footballer's nightmares. on the field, he was ruthless. he was the one to ruin others, and now it was finally his turn. at your hands, at that.

his hair was tousled, head tipped back and rested against the wall as weak pants slipped past his lips. his fingers were tangled into your hair as you kissed his erection, all sloppy from his salty pre and your lipgloss. he pulled his length out just to smear the tip against your lips, groaning at the feeling of you eagerly peeking out your tongue to tease his needy, aching dick.

all it had taken to break his resolve was to call him to your assigned room after everyone had slept, and tell him the thing as it was. no hidden games, no unkept promises. isagi yoichi was smart enough to see through any games, anyways. what was the point?

"so, ego sent you? to test me, probably." he had concluded by the time you had uttered the second sentence. you rolled your eyes, "has blue lock altered your brain chemistry to think of everything as a trap? i jus' wanna fuck, yoichi."

you saw his fist tighten as you let out honeyed syllables of his name, purposefully bunching your already short skirt upwards. even as his eyes swayed, transfixed against your soft, exposed skin, the man's tone stayed ever-so-polite, "i honestly expected better from ego. i didn't think he was a benevolent man."

"who says i am a product of his benevolence?"

"a-ah," and now the footballed panted, his fingers pulling at your roots as you bobbed up and down, taking his length deeper and deeper into your mouth with each mean, little suck.

"shit," he hissed, eyes clenching shut, "jus' like that, baby."

you felt his thighs clench under your touch, the muscle spasming all erratic as his hips bucked into your mouth. as you felt him breath heavily, you peeled yourself off of him with a lewd pop.

looking up at him, all wide-eyes and devilish smiles, yoichi looked down at you with part confusion, part impatience. "i—" his voice trembled, "i was so fuckin' close, why'd you stop?"

you pulled yourself up, cleaning your mouth with your fingers carelessly, "just cause. goodnight, isagi. you can go back to your room."

"wh-what?" the man spluttered, demeanor uncharacteristically disheveled as he took in the sight of you walking away from him, "what?"

"goodnight." you replied without even looking back, ready to cozy up in your bed and go to sleep. there was no reply from his side, and then something flipped.

"what?" his voice rasped, hands coming to close around your wrist to pull you back into himself, "you think i'll just let you walk away?"

the man turned you around, pressing your chest to the wall as your cheek came to squish against the cold, hard wall. a harsh tug had your skirt pulled upwards, has your drenched panties pulled to the side hastily and had him stuffing you full of his cock, "take it."

"sh-yoichi!" you yelped, thighs automatically parting to accommodate his mean, shallow thrusts. something in the air changed. the compliant man, ready to be ruined by you was suddenly a beast, a man who would break you just to build you up again. his voice dragged, a nimble finger coming to spread your puffy folds and toy with the wettened bud, "think you can jus' toy with me? hah," a humorless laugh left him, dick slipping in and out of you faster and faster and faster, "you thought i'll spare you?"

"ngh— y-yoichi," he pressed your face into the wall, using the pressure to drill into you, to find the spots that will undo you. your mouth fell apart, silent screams into the bricked walls as he rasped in your ear, "you just wanted to fuck right?" a harsh snap of his pelvis and you lost your balance, limply held up by his strong arms, "see? aren't i fucking you right now?"

as you stayed silent, too lost in the feeling of his tip brushing against your g-spot and a hurricane building up in your stomach, yoichi pulled your face towards his, meeting your bleary eyes with his crazed ones, "answer me."

"ye-yeah."

"feel good, huh?" his heavy breaths the only coherent sounds, accompanied by the slap of skin over skin and your stupid babbling, "y- hah yoichi, harder."

"huh?" the star player laughed, his agile finger rubbing patterns against your clit as he kept up his inhumane pace, "want more?"

he pinched your throbbing bud and you arched back into him, eyes growing teary, "ah, ngh please 'm gonna cum. mgonna— cum."

you heard the man shuffle behind you, fully expecting him to go overboard. except he didn't. pulling himself out, he left your throbbing, dripping cunt empty.

"what—" you turned around to look at your culprit only for him to slip back inside in one fluid motion, fucking you dumb again. your voice wobbled, your body falling forward and only held up by him, "shit, you feel so g-good, hah oh my god."

and then you were spasming around his dick, eyes clenching shut as he kept fucking into you through your orgasm. your stomach felt heavy, breath uneven and barely lucid as isagi emptied himself within you.

seeing you in front of him — his seed slipping out of you, your face all reddened and sweaty from his administration, beautiful — isagi yoichi was sure he had finally found another addiction, one battling even the likes of his football career and dreams of being a striker.

as he left your body and stepped back, you leaned on the wall, catching your breath. yoichi spoke up again, his words no longer formal and polite like they had started off when he had first came into your room. he was ruthless. "if you wanna get fucked dumb again, let me know."

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

★player 02: rin itoshi! you thought this would work on me?

rin itoshi was nothing if not a fucking hard-ass. he was rude, blunt, downright cruel if you didn't fall into the small circle of people he could tolerate. he was a man with a purpose, a man with tunnel vision, and right now that vision was you bent over his desk, looking back at him with nothing but heady desire.

his strong grip held your wrists behind your back, the other hand toying with your entrance. for the activity he was doing, his voice was awfully bored, "what did you exactly think would happen once you came here?"

you tried speaking, "well—"

"—it was a rhetorical question." the man replied coolly, his eyes against yours in a heavy dance while his fingers teased your drenched cunt, "did you actually think you'd come here, and i'd fall into your little trap? ego has seriously lost his mind if he thinks this is enough to make me lose control."

"that being said," the younger itoshi hummed, finally looking down to see what a mess you were making of his table, dripping down obscenely onto the wood and coating his fingers, "i cannot lie that this is entertaining."

he had you spread out like that for however long, you couldn't even recall. but seeing how his green eyes locked onto you, how his voice slightly lost their edge as he played with you had you feeling like maybe he was losing control.

"rin," you whined, your chest arching further into the wood as you pathetically tried to move, "jus' do something. anything."

"tsk," the man husked, all disappointed as you tried to meaninglessly struggle against his vice-like grip on your wrist, "why? from the looks of it, you look like you're enjoying this a lot."

as if to emphasize, his fingers finally swept past your puffy clit, softly rubbing the nub. you threw your head backwards, a silent moan at the final contact. looking at you entranced, the man finally slipped a finger into your velvety heat, and then another immediately after.

stretching you open on his digits, rin itoshi couldn't lie he could see the appeal in you. the way your body molded to his touches, how you keened into his fleeting touches against your clit, how he almost all but buried himself within your sickly, sweet cunt.

"r-rin," you panted, eyes clenched shut, "f-faster, please."

"hm?" if you didn't know any better, you would have taken his tone as one of annoyance. dripping in boredom, he reminded you all while his digits pumped in and out of you repeatedly, "look me in the eye while you're talking to me."

"ugh," your voice shook as you forced your eyes open. looking at the raven-headed man through a shaky gaze, you tried to repeat the lewd request, "faster... please?"

as you looked back at him; eyes red, lips wobbling and body almost limp except for the jitters that shook you over and over again, rin swallowed hard. faking nonchalance was getting harder.

"let me do you one better." rin itoshi pulled out his fingers — all coated with your essence — and you whined at his action before he teased the stretched-out cunt with the tip of his aching dick, "take it all since you want it so fuckin' bad."

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

★player 03: hyoma chigiri! gentleman in the streets, freak in them sheets!

hyoma chigiri prided himself to be a gentleman. he was always graceful, always so well-manner and proper. he was — what you considered — the easiest prey. you thought you would utter something suggestive, tie your hair and fall to your knees and he would explode right there. oh, how wrong you were.

"tired already?" his hair stuck to his forehead, long tresses half-glued to his sweaty back and half-falling over you as he caged you under him. his lean biceps flexed, his pelvic region coming in fleeting contact with your aching cunt every time he slipped his cock inside you.

you panted, words jumbling at his almost mocking tone, "chigiri plea—"

he cut you off, "please what?"

oh, how dare he act so nonchalant? especially after he had been keeping up the same tantalizing, torturous pace for the past hour. you knew the man had crazy stamina, you had seen his explosive strength as he ran the course of the field in a matter of mere seconds. but those same legs now supported his figure as he pressed your knees to your chest and rammed into you so, so slowly.

"the p-pace," you tried again and he furrowed his brow, looking so pretty hovering over you. he repeated, "what's wrong with the pace?"

"'s so slow." you hoped your weak words would do the trick but hyoma chigiri just looked at you confused, as if you were uttering an alien language. he laughed, "are you saying i'm slow? me?" shaking his head, he disapproved, "that's a bit harsh."

you whined, nails digging into his sculpted back as you tried to physically taint him into changing the pace. the reddish scars against his back ignited something within the man. he hummed, "well, since you've been so patient 'n all, i guess—"

his thrust almost took you by surprise, a gasp stuck in your throat at his sudden intensity. his pelvis met yours in a lewd grind and you keened into his touches, praying to any deity above that he just keeps up this pace.

and boy, did those deities answer.

because now you were gasping, reeling from your second orgasm, as the man above you kept going. a light layer of sheen covered you both, his hair was dripping, and you were sure that one more thrust and your body would rip open.

"c'mon," he insisted, his words now reduced to groans and stuttering moans, "gimme one more."

"no, no, no." you shook your head but a steady hand came to pull your cheeks together, forcing you to meet his eyes. the man rasped, "did i fuckin' ask? i told you i need one more."

the same hand that had been holding your face trailed downwards to toy with your neglected clit while his dick rammed against the same gooey spot within you. the pressure in your stomach rose dangerously, and you squirmed under him, screaming his name.

and then, you erupted. muscles spasming, cunt fluttering so tight around him as you screamed his name. and he came just as intensely within you, painting your insides white with his essence.

as chigiri hyoma finally caught his breath and looked down at you, at your blissful, spent expression, he almost envisioned a future where this was you and him every morning. a future where he woke you up with orgasms and candied words against your lips. ah, too bad ego was the one pulling the strings.

but dammit, was ego good at pulling strings.

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

★player 04: rensuke kunigami! over 'n over again? let's go till infinity, tonight.

rensuke kunigami knew what he wanted in his life. you knew the muscled man as someone who never stopped, never gave up, never for a second ever held back from giving it his all. so, why would he act any different with you?

you had been so sweet to him, anyways. you had waltzed into his room late at night, complimenting his strikes and offering him a massage as a small favour. now, he was returning the favor by folding you in half, ramming in 'n out, in 'n out, in 'n ou—

"—oh my god, rensuke." you gasp, your legs dangling on his muscled shoulders as he used you as a ragdoll.

his untamed hair is now a bit matted, sweat drops cascading down his neck and down his rippling abs and chest. you would follow the path of that drop shamelessly if he hadn't forced you to focus on him and only him.

rensuke kunigami was an usually reserved man. but the way you ruined him was a experiment that needed to be studied. he lost control the second you showed up in those itty-bitty top and short combo to give him a free massage. ofcourse, now he was just repaying the favour.

he didn't care that ego might be behind it, that you were just a mere distraction. more like he couldn't care as you moaned out his name and tried to buck into him, tried to match his erratic thrusts.

he was such a deranged man at your touches, losing all inhibitions and acting on his most dark thoughts because as soon as you got comfortable in one position, as soon as he saw you about to come undone, he would manhandle you and have you another way.

this position was your fourth and you were half-afraid you'd pass out before his stamina ran out. the man panted, "shi-shit, gonna come?"

"yes, please." your legs locked against his broad back, trying to force him into the position and not edge you again. and although, rensuke kunigami was a crazed man, he couldn't lie that he wanted to feel you cum on his dick. ego's scheme be damned.

"c-cum for me," he hissed, pelvis grinding into you with more and more intensity as your eyes rolled back and muscles grew tense under him. he repeated, words coming so hard to his parched throat, "cum for me. cum on me, pretty girl."

"hah shit—" your voice pitched and you saw your vision fade to black, just a violent storm inside your body that calmed down slowly as the man above you finally pulled out and spilled white all over your abdomen.

he panted, gasping for air like he had just played 6 consecutive matches, he picked up the white on his index and pushed it past your wobbling lips, looking as you accepted his taste with a sweet hum.

"fuck, baby. one last time?" he asked. but what was the point of asking as he was already slipping inside you?

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

★player 05: meguru bachira! ah, the monster won't let me stop!

meguru bachira swore he grew up with a monster. not the scary kind, no. his was kind, his was ambitious, his was his only friend growing up. but now, as you laid before him, he realized that the monster was him.

you had grabbed his wrist after dinner, and he had grinned and teased his friends as you dragged him away. he had heard the rumors. isagi, itoshi, kunigami, chigiri — all of them seemed to have gotten a pretty little session from you. and he would be lying if he said he wasn't waiting for his turn.

sure, ego was playing with them. ego wanted to test them. but what ego didn't know was that meguru bachira was a man at your service, ready for whatever.

he had waited for his turn so long, of course, he wanted to make a good impression. maybe that's why your hands were tied to the headboard of his bed, your thighs split open on each side of his face as he lapped at you like a man ravished.

you were so sweet, and he almost grew angry at the idea of all of them having you. but right now, you were pulling at your handcuffs so desperately, you were telling him he was doing so good and that you were gonna come again.

"meg—" you cried out, hips raising in a desperate attempt only for them to be pushed down by his arms. he kept lapping at you, kept fucking you with his tongue, kept staring at your face as it contorted into one of pleasure. you cried again, trying to push him away, "meguru, too much. 's too much."

he stopped, if only for a moment. he raised his head up, looking at your disheveled state. your hair stuck to your body, your eyes crazed the same way he felt he looked chasing after the ball on the field. except, you looked more beautiful than all of his sweaty teammates combined.

you sighed with relief, "stop, megs."

"hm?" he peeked his tongue out, softly licking away at the honeyed residue on his lips, "why?"

"i'm tire— meguru!" your voice climbed several octaves higher as he ignored you and delved right where he had made a mess with your unyielding juices, cum and his spit. you cried out, tried to rattle the bed with your actions.

but those sounds did nothing but make him rut the bed harder. his sweats and bedsheet were nowhere as sweet or plush as your cunt, or your mouth. but right now, it would do. he rutted, pressing his sensitive, wet cock into the fabric like an animal in heat. he wasn't ashamed to admit that he had already came once. and how could he not with your sweet voice just above him?

"m-meguru, baby." you tried to move away, but it was no use as he actively hunt you down with his tongue. he hummed against you, his words a broken mess, "yeah, what?"

"stop, please." the overstimulation was getting too much, it was going straight from your cunt to your head and you swear you were growing dumber as he wrecked you with his sultry muscle.

"no," he stuck his tongue out, teasing your swollen clit with his tip, "the monster said i cannot stop."

and maybe meguru bachira was a sadist cause he swore he came again when you whined and he answered by eating you out even more passionately.

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

★player 06: nagi seishiro! the only kind of hard work i wanna do.

nagi seishiro thought everything was pointless, and so very energy-consuming. he had heard about ego's new scheme, he had seen you waltz around the blue lock facilities and all he wondered was: was all that hardwork with you worth it? yes. it was.

his arms pressed your back to his chest, and you were surprised by the force as he kept you pined against him. his leg snaked against yours and you found it difficult to move. rendered useless. all you could do was lay by your side, held by his arm and with his leg between yours, opening your drenched pussy to his greedy vision.

by now, everyone knew what you were upto. a succubus. a fucking witch that came just to fill their head with filthy thoughts, and wreck their cognitive senses. and now, it was nagi seishiro's turn.

"ah, ah, ah." the man tutted, shaking his head softly and the white tresses softly caressed your neck. he buried his face into your skin, inhaling you and exhaling a soft moan even though it was you getting utterly wrecked.

he knew it would be a lot of hardwork, so, yes, nagi seishiro did cheat. he went ahead and got a vibrator. a small, bullet vibrator that did more than enough work for him.

"s-sei." you cringed at how pathetic you sounded, your own voice drowning under the buzz of the toy, and the man replied against your soft skin, "hm?"

"turn on the higher intensity s-setting." your voice sounded confident, as if you weren't already making a mess on the little, buzzing adult toy even at the second setting. nagi's fingers were drenched, the sheets underneath you probably soiled with your juices.

"oh?" the snowy-haired man repeated your words in his head, "you wan' more?"

you nodded and the man pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder, muttering, "okay, then."

while you did expected a gradual increase in the vibration, you did not expect the intensity to go up to a 5, and then nagi slipping his erection within you immediately afterwards.

"feels good," the man muttered again, his voice so soft that you had to concentrate just to hear his little quips. nagi's hips pistoned in and out of you, a steady, jagged little rhythm that made sure he bumped against your g-spot drag after drag.

with a particularly harsh stroke, nagi stilled within your heat. his tip kept stationary against your kryptonite, and as he pressed the bullet vibrator to your clit, you felt a fire budding within you.

you thrashed against him but you were quickly reminded he was a professional player because he had a chokehold on your body. not one muscle moved without nagi's permission, and you were effectively all but in his control.

he was your puppeteer and you were the helpless, stupid doll he was playing with. he decided everything. from the pace of his strokes, to the intensity. he stopped as he pleased, and then started again. you almost grew frustrated, "sei, fuck me harder."

well, you should have given him clearer instructions. because now the snow-haired prodigy focused. his hips snapped, skin reddening by hitting against your skin and the tip of the vibrating toy placed perfectly on your swollen nub.

"oh my god," you rasped and nagi took it upon himself to fuck you toll you could not utter a word more. as you spasmed against his cock and he emptied himself within you, nagi seishiro could only ask one thing, "wan' more?"

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

★player 07: reo mikage! etch me to your memory, forever.

reo mikage had all the wealth in the world. he could buy you whole if he wanted, but what was the fun in that? he wanted you to remember him. he wanted you to think of him everytime you touched yourself, everytime those wretched fucking bastards touched you.

"jus' like that," his smooth voice guided you, "go slower."

you focused on the smooth baritone of his voice, on the pretty way the syllables rang out of his mouth. you focused on his sound, because frankly, that was all you could do.

you were blindfolded, sat down on his bed and spread open for him to devour you whole.

even with all the access in the world, reo mikage didn't want anything that didn't make him work hard. so, naturally, he wanted to put on a show. he wanted to feel you follow him. he wanted to remind you who he truly was. even if ego wanted him distracted and in shambled, reo pledged to ruin ego's chess piece entirely.

"now, circle your clit." you did as you were told, pace slow and the actions well-calculated. reo smiled, a self-satisfying little thing as you followed his instructions like a lost puppy, "good girl. continue that, keep goin'."

you shook your head, already worked up with your own fingers against yourself. after being filled and defiled by each of them, just having your own fingers felt rather... bland. but as reo's voice guided you, you couldn't help but follow along.

"go faster," he instructed, his own hand falling on his hot, hard erection, "go as fast as your pathetic fucking fingers can go. yeah," he laughed, looking at how you tried to keep up the pace but faltered just a few moments in.

you felt shivers down his spine as you felt his hot breath on your inner thigh. he was so close, yet he did nothing but chant instructions, "put a finger in, and fuck yourself like it's my dick."

you tried, a helpless whine on your lip as you couldn't exactly fuck yourself as well as they could. "awh?" reo questioned, his breath so close to where you wanted it, "cannot?"

"reo, please." you tried to negotiate, still pumping a finger within yourself, "please jus' do something."

"hah," he player laughed, almost flattered at your whines, "can't. just work for it, pretty girl." he waited a moment, seeing your struggle before uttering out, "now, another finger. go on."

you put one more, and he moaned as he tugged on his own erection, "now fuck yourself open on them."

you threw your head back, finally finding some rhythm within your own digits. but as soon as you felt yourself growing hotter with your own touches, a soft hand caught your wrist and then you felt a soft, foreign kiss on your drooling cunt.

"r-reo?" you asked, taken aback by his tongue lapping at you. reo mikage hummed, his grip still tight on your wrist, "shh, just enjoy."

but there was nothing to enjoy. he stopped, making you realize his absence. "reo?" your voice grew feeble and then, you heard a deeper voice. a familiar voice. a voice that echoed against your ear, "missing me?"

rensuke kunigami?!

"huh?" you replied, confused and then a sharp smell invaded your smell. a characteristic smell. the same perfume rin itoshi always wore. and then, your heightened senses let you know that there were a lot more people in this room than you anticipated.

"told ya, didn't i?" isagi yoichi hummed, "if you ever wanted to get fucked dumb, just call us."

oh my god. what kind of a trap did ego jinpachi throw you in?

a/n: PART TWOO IS NOW UPP!! no, i will not apologize for this shit. it got me out of writers block. no, i don't take criticism. only compliments, thankyou. jokes aside, ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH BLUE LOCK OMGGG. catch me writing for them day 'n night now. also, sorry if i mess up somewhere. uni started and brother, all my energy is gone. hope you like it, love ya hotties 💋💋 m.list [check out my other work mwuah]

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yoru-exe · 2 months ago

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PHAINON ࣪ ִֶָ ⋆ . call my name

as overly formal and unnecessary as it sounds, the amphoreus' hero has always been lord phainon to you. while it comes with great honour and respect, much like how it applies to your master; lady aglaea, it feels like there's a barrier between you and him, and he doesn't really like that, considering that he'd like to know you better, closer.

so naturally, he revels in making you drop the honourary title, and the best way to make you do so (based on his countless personal experiments of trial-and-error, which he very much enjoyed) is to catch you off guard. shock you enough to make you forget all about the formality, enough to make you see him not as just amphoreus' hero, but as phainon himself.

one of the times that happened was when you found a lost little girl in the wood. so you asked around the village nearby if she's familiar. you were starting to get some leads when you stumbled upon an elderly man who commented, "my, what lovely family you three look".

"no, we're not-".

"well, thank you so much, good sir. unfortunately, they're not family members. we're actually looking for this child's parents. although i'd like to note that i do look forward to starting a family with this woman".

"phainon!".

of course, that's just one method of making you fall into his plan. there's trill in guessing how you'll react. the blush that never fail to paint your face rosy red always manage to make him fall deeper for you. but nothing made him completely weak than you calling his name consciously out of your own choice.

not even mydei's hardest punch to his gut could do as much damage as you do in this situation.

he was looking at the moon one night all alone when you appeared beside him. "someone seems busy with his thought. would he be so generous to share?", a teasing tone laced your words, making him chuckled. you always seem to know how to calm his nerve when it's going wild.

"just.. thinking about the battle to come. do you think we'll make it this time?". from the hill you're standing on, the ruins around the perimeter glowed under the moonlight. the destruction they faced was unmistakable. from the way he sympathetically shifted his gaze upon them, you guessed that perhaps it's from his previous battle, one that you didn't embark together with, one that he failed.

without warning, you took his hand in yours, caressing circles on the scars on it, a gentle smile gracing your lips. "of course we will, because you have me by your side", you announced pridefully, so full of confidence that it felt contagious on him. "and you by mine, phainon".

you voice was so low, as if a whisper of a mother soothing her crying child, or a girl confessing to her lover of her affection. but he heard you loud and clear.

although, he felt like he needed you to repeat that again because his system was in a mess from you saying his name that he didn't get to savour it to its fullest.

"no, that only come once".

safe to say that he spent the rest of the night begging that you call his name like you just did. but where's the fun in a challenge if you just give him what he wants?

⊹₊ author's note ₊⊹

this is kinda silly, but someone implied that phainon isn't as innocent as what we originally thought he would be did something to my brain chemistry. and you know what? good for him. this man needs some fun before he d***

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #phainon #phainon x reader

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theonottsbxtch · 5 months ago

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PRIVATE | LN4

an: requested by @bhuijnbhuijn-blog this was so fun to make! it feels to good to make a smau after a few days of straight writing

fc: random girls on pintrest and isabel larosa

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thank you london and thank you to my beloved

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appartment in monaco

You were perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, barefoot, legs dangling as you watched Lando move around the open kitchen. The soft click of cabinet doors and the muted thud of a cereal box landing on the counter are the only sounds, apart from the faint music playing from your speaker. It was your calm playlist, just background noise, a playlist you curated 100% but one Lando pretended he created to wind you up. He didn’t mind—he hummed along sometimes, absentmindedly, just like now. The late afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting a warm, golden hue over everything, making the moment feel even more private, more intimate.

Lando was shirtless wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. It was a version of him few people ever get to see. No fireproof suit, no helmet. No world watching his every move. Here, in this quiet corner of your shared world, he was just... him. And you loved him like this, more than anything.

As he fumbled with the coffee machine, you leant back on your hands, your fingers curling against the cool granite of the counter. The smell of coffee mingled with the lazy warmth of the afternoon. You were both settled into this comfortable rhythm of being together, the kind of domesticity that felt almost foreign when you thought of your lives outside these walls—your career, his racing, the flashing lights and the fans.

But here, it was different.

You’d been thinking about it for a while now. The thought had been on the tip of your tongue for weeks, and today felt like the right time to broach it. Or maybe it was just that the stillness of this moment made you feel brave. You took a breath, voice soft as you broke the quiet.

“I’ve been thinking…” Your words drift into the space between you, casual but with a certain weight that you know will catch his attention. Lando looked over at you, coffee cup in hand, waiting for you to continue. You smiled, trying to keep it light. “Maybe it’s time we go public… on Instagram.”

He froze for a beat, his eyes locking on yours as if he was trying to read your face, gauge how serious you were. Slowly, he set the cup down on the counter, his brow furrowing in that familiar way that meant he was already thinking too much.

“Public?” he repeated, like he was testing the word, feeling it out. His voice was calm, but you could sense the undertone of concern, the hesitation that came with anything that involves exposing more of your lives to the world outside. “You sure about that?”

You nodded, even though you knew he was not just asking for the sake of it. There was more behind his question than the words. It was not just a simple post to him—it was a line you were crossing, a step into a world he was all too familiar with, and not in a good way.

“I am,” you said softly. “We’ve been so careful, keeping things private, but… I don’t want to hide us anymore. I don’t want to pretend we’re not a part of each other’s lives.” You watched him as you spoke, searching his face for any sign of agreement, but he was still quiet, arms folded across his chest, his gaze drifting somewhere just past you.

Lando shifted his weight, leaning against the counter, his fingers drumming lightly against the granite, a telltale sign that his mind was working through what you’d just said. After a moment, he sighed, running a hand through his curls, the kind of movement that let you know he was trying to choose his words carefully.

“I get it,” he said finally, his voice softer now, but there was still a trace of reluctance. “But… it’s different for you. Your fans, they’re supportive. You’re already used to the attention. My world… it’s not like that. It can get ugly fast. And once we put it out there, it’s out there. We can’t take it back.”

You slid off the counter and moved toward him, your bare feet silent on the floor. Standing in front of him, you reached for his hands, threading your fingers through his. “I know, love. I know how hard it can be for you. But I’m not asking for some big, dramatic reveal. Just something simple. A photo. Something that feels like us, something quiet.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the protective instinct he’d always had when it came to the life you’d built together versus the part of him that wanted to trust in your strength, in the fact that you could handle it.

“I don’t want them coming after you,” he said quietly, almost more to himself than to you. “I don’t want you to deal with the kind of hate I get.”

Lifting one hand to his face, cupping his cheek gently, your thumb grazed over his skin. “I’ve been in the public eye for years now. I’ve had my share of negativity, too. But we’ve got each other, right? We can handle it. I can handle it.” You paused, letting your words sink in. “And I’m tired of hiding something that makes me so happy.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, as if he was trying to imagine what it would be like—the backlash, the media storm. But when he opened them again, there was something softer there, a quiet surrender. He still looked hesitant, but there was an acceptance in his expression now, like maybe, just maybe, he was willing to trust you on this.

“A photo,” he repeated, his voice almost resigned but not unkind. “Something simple.”

You nodded, your smile growing. “Just one.”

He chuckled softly, pulling you into his arms, his chin resting on the top of your head. “You really want this, huh?” His voice was a little lighter now, though you could still feel the weight of the decision lingering between you.

“I do,” you murmured into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him—clean and warm, like home. “We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. Just something that feels like us. Something honest.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands resting on your waist. “Alright,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “But if it all blows up in our faces, you’re the one dealing with the PR disaster.”

You laughed, the sound soft and full of relief. “Deal. I’ll take full responsibility.” You leant up and kissed him, your lips brushing his with a gentleness that said more than words ever could. “Promise.”

landonorris

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enjoyed the final show of the break, time for austin

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yeah, my boyfriend's pretty cool but he's not as cool as me

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appartment in monaco

It had been a few weeks since you had gone public, and the house felt the same. The kitchen still smelt like coffee in the afternoons, and Lando’s laughter still echoed through the rooms. But outside, in the world that wasn’t contained by these walls, things had shifted.

The first few days after you had posted that picture—a simple, candid shot of you two tangled on the couch, laughing at something neither of you can remember now—felt like a blur. Your Instagram blew up instantly, flooded with comments, some gushing, some not so kind. The had media picked it up, headlines spun their usual stories, and of course, his world—Formula 1, with its intense, relentless scrutiny—had its own opinions. Most of it was harmless, but some of it... wasn’t.

Lando was standing in front of the window, staring out at nothing in particular. You could tell from the way his shoulders were tense, from the way his hand kept moving to rub the back of his neck, that something had been weighing on him. He’d been quieter these last few days, not in the way that shut you out, but in the way that let you know he was overthinking, worrying about things he didn’t need to.

You were sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, pretending to scroll through Instagram, but your attention was on him. You watched as he checked his phone again, probably seeing another headline or some new wave of comments. His jaw tightened, and that was when you knew it’s time to say something.

“Lan,” you called out softly, trying to break the tension in the room. “Come over here.”

He hesitated for a second, like he was debating whether to pull you into his worry or let it be, but then he walked over, his feet dragging slightly on the wooden floor. He sank down beside you on the couch, letting out a long, tired breath. His arm came around your shoulders instinctively, pulling you closer, but his mind was clearly somewhere else.

“Talk to me,” you said gently, tilting your head to look up at him.

He didn’t meet your eyes at first, he just stared at the floor. “I’ve been seeing some of the comments,” Lando admitted, his voice low, as if he was trying to keep it casual but couldn’t quite manage it. “There’s a lot of hate. A lot of people saying… awful things. About you, about us.” He paused, running his hand through his hair. “I didn’t want this for you.”

You felt his arm tighten around you, like he was trying to protect you from something that was already out there, something he couldn’t control. It broke your heart a little, the way he carried that weight, like he was responsible for every cruel word thrown your way.

You shifted in his arms, turning to face him, one hand reaching up to touch his cheek. “I know,” you said softly. “But, darling, it’s not getting to me. Not even a little.” You smiled, trying to get him to see the truth in your eyes. “I’ve been in this business long enough to know that people are going to say whatever they want. But they don’t matter. You do.”

He finally looked up at you, his brow furrowed, still sceptical. “But some of it’s brutal,” he insisted, his voice tight. “They’re dragging you through the mud just because we went public. I didn’t want you to deal with this part of my life, the ugly part.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head, and the sound seemed to catch him off guard. “Honestly? I’ve dealt with worse. You should’ve seen the comments I got after that one music video,” you teased lightly, hoping to ease his worry. “But this? This is nothing.”

He didn’t look convinced, but you could see him trying to process what you were saying, like he wanted to believe you but couldn’t quite let go of his own guilt. So, you decided to prove it to him in a way you knew would get through that thick head of his.

With a sly smile, you grabbed your phone and opened Twitter, your fingers moved quickly over the screen as you pulled up your account. He watched you, confused, until you glanced up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

You bit your lip, pretending to think about it, then you tilted the phone toward him so he could see the tweet you’d just typed out. In bold letters, it read:

"how i sleep knowing i get to sleep with this hunk of a man at night and you don’t "

Below the text was the picture you’d been sitting on for a while—one of him sleeping in the paddock last season.

His eyes widened as he read it, then flicked to the photo. “You’re not serious,” he said, though there’s a laugh hidden in his voice now.

“Oh, I am very serious,” you said, grinning at him as you hovered over the “Tweet” button. “If people want to hate, let them. But I’m going to remind them who I get to come home to every night.”

He stared at you for a second, then shook his head, a small, incredulous smile finally tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

You shrugged, your finger tapping the button before he could say another word. “It’s out there now,” you said, holding up the phone in triumph. “Let them come for me.”

He leant back against the couch, running his hands over his face, but you could see the way his shoulders had finally relaxed, the tension ebbing away. He laughed, a real, genuine laugh, and it warmed you from the inside out. “You’re actually insane,” he said, pulling you into his chest, kissing the top of your head. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

You looked up at him, beaming. “Sweetheart, they can say whatever they want. It doesn’t change anything. I’ve got you, and that’s all that matters.”

For the first time in days, the worry in his eyes faded completely. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly, his breath warm against your hair. “I love you,” he murmured, the words soft but full of meaning.

“I love you more.”

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haters gunna hate, anyway check out my new song x

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hannyoontify · 3 months ago

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seventeen '97 line as things that have made my heart flutter

warnings | smidge of academic stress in hao's, jealousy [reader's end] in mingyu's, reader is light enough to be moved? in mingyu's, implications of alcohol consumption in dokyeoms (oh my god what happened to 'none :3'), dokyeom calls reader 'pretty'

notes | learned today that extremely fast and aggressive jazz stimulates my brain in a way i've never experienced before so i decided to make the best of it LMFAO

p.s. i recommend reading these as situationships/pre-relationships

95 line | 96 line | 97 line | maknae line

the8 - facetiming at 3 in the morning

“hao? are you asleep?”

you heard muffled shuffling on the other side of the line and minghao’s camera, which was turned on and was currently facing the ceiling, moved around until you saw his eyes peek over the edge of the screen.

“no, i was reading. how’s the homework coming along?” his voice was impossibly soft and soothing, like a gentle lullaby sung to an infant to lull it to sleep. the question made you groan loudly and you dragged a hand through your tired face.

“i hate this. i have two questions left.”

minghao hummed over the line. “mmm… you got this, i believe in you. do you want my help?”

you shook your head. “no, i know how to do it, it’s just…” you let out a strangled yell and wrapped your blanket closer around your body. “i just don’t want to do it.”

“hmm… poor baby. c’mon. you can do it. if there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you.” minghao’s gentle words seemed to reach into your ribcage and grab your heart, gently squeezing until you felt something warm and familiar crawling up your spine. you observed the way his eyes curved into crescent shaped moons when he smiled. the bright green frog headband on his head that made his jet black hair stick out in unnatural directions.

“… you didn’t have to stay up with me, you know.” you mumbled. while you were thankful for minghao’s adamant attitude to stay on call with you until you finished your ap chemistry homework, even if it meant staying up until the most ungodly hours of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of him losing sleep because of you.

“and leave you to crash out all on your own? what kind of friend would i be if i missed out on that?” minghao snorted on the other end of the line but when you gave no response, his voice softened. “you don’t need to worry about me, [name]. now get back to work, those FRQ’s aren’t going to solve themselves.”

when you warbled out another series of exasperated ‘don’t wanna’s’ and ‘i hate my life’s, minghao puffed over the line. “what do you want, [name].”

shifting your weight to rest your head on your desk, your eyes drifted to your phone propped up in the corner of your desk, where minghao’s screen remained facing the ceiling. there was an occasional crinkle on the other side of the line, where he was tossing and turning in his bed, no doubt. the blank, white canvas of his ceiling was the last thing you wanted to see right now.

“wanna see you, hao.” you mumbled. it was barely above a whisper and you doubted your crappy phone mic would’ve picked up the sound. but of course, it did.

you could almost hear the cocky smile in his voice as he spoke. “oh, i see how it is. you wanna see my face, huh?”

“shut up. forget i said anything.” pursing your lips, you pretended to turn back to your neglected ap chemistry homework so he wouldn’t see the way your face was beginning to flush.

minghao laughed loudly, clearly enjoying your pain and misery as you wallowed in your embarrassment. “it’s okay to ask for what you want, [name]. it’s natural.”

“whatever! shush, i’m trying to focus.” biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, you tried your best to conceal the smile that was threatening to spill. minghao had that kind of effect on you. like an infectious disease that had your heart constantly racing, your palms sweaty, and your face a bright shade of red.

mingyu - grabbing the leg of your chair and pulling you closer towards his direction

mingyu was a force to be reckoned with. you recognized that the minute he introduced himself to you back in freshman year. the way he greeted you with a bright smile before turning around to greet all four other tables surrounding your shared table. before you knew it, the smiley boy had managed to befriend one entire side of the classroom, all within 15 minutes of class starting.

sure, he was easy on the eyes, but you knew it was more than that. it was the sparkle in his eye. the mischievous smile that seemed to announce that he was up to no good. it was the way he genuinely made an effort to connect and hear everything the other person had to say. he was a good person.

you, on the other hand, were not.

of course, mingyu would scoff and roll his eyes at that. he didn’t think you were a bad person, you were simply not as… friendly as he was. it wasn’t that you were rude, but you liked to keep to yourself. you liked to keep conversations, especially with people you were less than friends with, to a minimum. talking was exhausting, and making small talk was the absolute worst. silence was your best friend.

well, besides for mingyu.

or should you say ex-best friend.

(you were joking. kinda.)

you silently huffed to yourself as mingyu flashed another friendly smile to the girl sitting across the aisle from him. his hands were busy enough, but it seemed to you that mingyu was too busy flirting with the girl to actually pay attention to the lab he was supposed to be doing. with you.

“gyu…” you called out quietly. “gyu…!” you called out again, a tad louder in volume.

mingyu whipped his head and smiled. “yeah?”

you felt a pang of guilt shoot through you at his innocent smile.

“we should get started on the lab.” waving the instruction sheet in your hand, you motioned to the microscope on the table before you.

“okay! one sec. lemme finish explaining this vanessa real quick and–“ mingyu faltered when he felt you gently tug on the sleeve of his lab coat. he looked at you with a confused look in his eyes, but his confusion soon changed into one of mischief once he recognized the slight scowl on your face. “ohhh, i see what it is. are you jealous right now?”

“no! as if…” you mumbled. “you’re supposed to be my lab partner, you know.”

mingyu let out a quiet chuckle and tousled your hair with his hand affectionately. “you’re cute.”

“shut up. i’m going to do the lab without you.”

with a dramatic sigh, mingyu leaned over, his face now inches away from yours. you could feel his hot breath on your cheek and it was like the world went momentarily still. there was a familiar tightening in your chest as your face began to warm.

you felt a gentle tug beneath you, followed by a gentle rumble as mingyu dragged your chair closer to where he was. you thanked your lucky stars for mingyu’s baggy lab coat, or else, you were more than positive that you would’ve been able to see his muscles bulging through his shirt and god knows what that would do to you.

once mingyu felt satisfied with your seating arrangement, he leaned back in his chair with a proud smile. “there. shall we get started now?”

dokyeom - taking off your glasses when (he thinks) you’re asleep

you feel like dead weight. all four limbs attached to your body don’t feel like yours and you were 99% positive that soonyoung’s homemade fruit punch was laced with something, despite his claims of it being ‘family-friendly’. you groaned quietly. there was a pulsating headache slowly forming and you turned over onto your side, curling into a fetal position in an attempt to make yourself comfortable.

to be honest, you weren’t entirely sure where you were. after having your social battery getting absolutely drained in a matter of 30 minutes at soonyoung’s halloween party, you stumbled upstairs and climbed into the first bed you saw. surely, soonyoung, or whoever this room belonged to, wouldn’t mind.

the thud of the bass could be felt through the walls, which really wasn’t helping your case of what seemed to be a growing migraine. as you began to silently pray to any greater deity to stop the incoming migraine, you heard the door creak open slowly and you braced yourself to curse out whatever poor and innocent soul decided to walk in on you trying to take a nap.

“[name]? are you in here?” the gentle and quiet words hung in the air, and you felt the air leave your lungs for a moment, suspending time.

it was seokmin.

your eyes remained shut but could hear him shuffling over to the side of bed where you remained in a fetal position. he held a cold hand against your forehead, sending a slight chill down your back.

“no fever…” seokmin mumbled to himself. “[name]? are you awake?”

you really wished you could open your eyes and smile at the sweet boy who was in front of you, but you couldn’t muster the strength in your body to do anything. it was like you lost control of your body.

seokmin tsked under his breath as he muttered something about falling victim to soonyoung’s devil’s juice and something else about reporting to poison control. he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his soft hand gently grazing your cheek as he did.

“here, let’s…” there was a gentle tug on the metal frames of your glasses that rested somewhat crookedly on your face, before it was pulled entirely. you heard two small clinks of metal as seokmin folded the arms and set down on the bedside table. “don’t want them to break again, do we?”

he chuckled gently, as if reminded by that one time you accidentally broke the frame of your favorite glasses after walking into a pole. you were deadly embarrassed, but seokmin thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

there was a gentle dip at the edge of the mattress. you would estimate that it was a few inches away from your face and you tried your best to will your heart to steady itself.

“so pretty…” seokmin mumbled to himself. was he talking about you? oh, god.

“i’ll let you sleep some more. good night, [name].” the mattress shifted again, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. there were another pair of footsteps however, that you felt drawing near to your heart.

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

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melanated-writersblock · 4 months ago

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⋆˙⟡♡₊˚⊹.Lunch Rush.⊹˚₊♡⟡˙⋆

[CEO!Husband!Yunho x BlackFem!Exec!Reader]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. Where you and Yunho wanted to start trying for a baby, and with a long lunch break in your schedules, you decide to pay him a visit to try your hand at conception.

content: car sex, semi-public sex, thigh riding, cloth-ripping, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl pls), just a dollop of spit, cowgirl, doggy, full fledged backshots, like 2 creampies?

word count: 3.4k

a/n: This fic cost me 5 FUCKING DOLLARS TO MAKE?!?!?! I had to pay to use a fake text generator, so if any of you have a site or app that I can make fake text messages FOR FREE then PLEASE let me know😭. This was self indulgent but I wanna dedicate this fic to all my fellow Hotteoks🫶🏾 And the bitches that fantasize about getting nutted in and getting it poppin’ in the back of the parking lot (in theory of course)! WwaBRiM (if you can’t tell from the fact the reader is rocking soft locs😛)

‧₊˚✩. ˚. ♡ ☁︎

To this day…you and Yunho’s BIGGEST regret in your relationship…is and ALWAYS WILL BE….agreeing to go to the christening of your friends’ 6-month old baby boy.

Everything was beautiful. The ceremony, the cathedral, the way the baby nestled into Yunho’s arms so naturally, and reached out to play with your bangles with such curiosity and wonder. It altered both of your brain chemistries, and you weren’t sure if it was for the better or not.

Your friends didn’t help either, saying things like “Parenthood would look so good on you two!” and “I can’t wait for your baby shower invitations.”.

How could they…….

After you pushed your meetings back to later in the week. After Yunho gave his team a free day when they could’ve been in the office perfecting the play-through on his new game before its release. Two very busy people with very busy work schedules, and you carved out time to come support your friends and their son, and they pay you back with…….

BABY FEVER?!?!

You and Yunho planned your futures out to a T. Go to university, get your respective degrees, join a company that you interned with, work your way up, become the boss, get married, honeymoon in The Maldives and spend your paid vacation days in The Swiss Alps.

Starting a family was definitely in there somewhere, but everything fell in line so well that it got lost. You’re at the top of your games…Yunho, figuratively and literally, with his gaming company being the best in the country and all…and you became the creative director for a top cosmetic brand. It really was all good. But it was lacking. And you both felt it. Ever since that christening.

You felt it every time one of your work partners went on maternity and paternity leave. Every time there were children in the offices on ‘Bring Your Kids to Work Day’. Every time Yunho saw posts or videos of kids around the world dressing up as characters he helped create. Every time your homegirls would send you milestones of their babies taking their first walk, or biting into a lemon for the first time. You two worked hard and accomplished everything you wanted to, everything except starting a family. It resonated for days after that christening.

For Weeks.

Months, even.

The energy around the house shifted. Yunho would steal glances at you as you did the simplest of routines, imagining your belly being round as you sip your favorite tea in the kitchen, waddling from room to room barefoot and pregnant. And you’d watch attentively as he’d play his video games, envisioning a child full of joy as he teaches them how to defeat their first villain. After a while it got to a point where neither of you would hide it. It became all too real, too wanted. And why not? What was stopping you two?

Everything was green lit once you and Yunho put it into the atmosphere and finally discussed it. You both were just about ready to start baby proofing the house and nothing even happened yet, becoming more proactive than you already were. Tracking apps were monitored, routines were tweaked, and everything seemed to be doable…but your work schedules…your jobs were the biggest obstacle. Just when could you slip away for a bit to see each other? When would be the right time to make a ba-

“Hey, I’m picking up my kid so we can go to lunch. I’ll be back in 2 hours!”

Your Editor in Chief pops their head in your office briefly before heading down the hall to the elevator, snapping you out of your rambling thoughts.

…………..Lunch Break.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

You reverse your sedan into the space next to him before hoping out and swishing towards the driver’s door, knocking softy. Your ears perk up at the sound of r&b playing and a silent laugh escapes you. The dark windows of the door lower, revealing Yunho in the driver’s seat, fully reclined with the top buttons of his shirt undone and the silver crucifix you adorned him with for your anniversary gleaming.

“For a second I thought you were backing out on me.” He smiles at you, his voice deeper than usual, evidence of a brief stolen nap. “Traffic was hell, I would’ve been here in half the time otherwise.” The door unlocks and you climb in, grazing over Yunho’s body as he adjusts the driver’s seat sitting up slightly, he grabs ahold of you to help you straddle him and closes the door back behind you. And like clockwork, you lean in, beginning your onslaught of abuse on his lips.

Snaking your hands into Yunho’s hair, he moans, deepening the kiss, his tongue dancing ever so eloquently with yours. “I missed you.” He says breathlessly between kisses, “You saw me this morning before I left boo!” You tease him, fixing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose that slid down in the midst of your passion, “That’s too long.” He pokes his lips out, and you console him with light pecks to ease his playful angst. “You’re so needy, you know that right?” “And you love me for it.”

Yunho starts to undo his shirt more, a sinister smile on the corner of his lips as he looks you over. “Come here,” You lean into him, your hand placed against his bare chest, the rock on your wedding band a flashy contrast to his skin. “Lift up for me baby.” You lift off of Yunho for a second as he helps you readjust yourself, now straddling one of his thighs. The pinstriped black skirt you wore for work today riding up your thighs. You let out a huff, immediately feeling the pressure of Yunho’s toned thigh on your bundle of nerves. Your black tights and panties not serving as any sort of buffer to the sensations. Your pussy lips spread apart feeling the course texture of his slacks. You let out a staggering sigh, reality finally setting in what you were about to do. “That’s right, you’re gonna ride me and come all over my thigh, and thennn~” Yunho begins to rock your hips back and forth on his thigh. You lurch forward, your right hand immediately planting on the interior wall of the Rover, “Damn, feels good right?” “Yeah, yes it does. Fuck.”

You place your other hand on his shoulder, stealing support as you rock onto him quicker, a few front strands of your freshly done soft locs coming undone from the high pony you put them in this morning, to his delight. Yunho enjoyed the sight of you working yourself on him, he loved how neat you looked before you climbed in the suv with him, and is obsessed with the thought of how disheveled and fucked out you’re gonna look when he’s done and you climb back out. Fuck, it’s all he’s thought about since you mentioned it in the texts. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to touch you, to feel you, to fuck you, to ruin you, to caress you, to make love to you, to put a baby in you……finally.

You watch Yunho as he closes his eyes, deep in thought, mindlessly guiding your hips against him, as if he’s immediately feeling all of the pleasure that you are in that moment. You begin to rock against him quicker, an impending climax moments away. Yunho opens his eyes, watching you as your moans get louder, less polite, more shameless. You lean your head forward trying to compose yourself as much as you possibly can in this situation, and he smiles at the sight. “I’m close………..fuck, I’m close.” Your hand now caresses his face as you lean your head on his shoulder, hunching him like a bitch in heat. “You’re close?” “Yeahhhh~” “Fuck, you’re gonna cum all over my thigh like that?” “Yeah!” “Yeahhh, just like that?” “Yes! Yes! Just like that!” Yunho bounces his leg softly as you continue to rake against it, riding out your high as a warm dampness spreads on his designer slacks. He moans at the feeling, damn near coming untouched just from witnessing your pleaser unfold before him.

You steady your panting for air. Embarrassed, you pat at the wet spot you left on your husband, “I did not expect that I-“ “I did, you’re ovulating.” Yunho caresses your cheeks fully heated with shame, and kisses you, laughing into the kiss. “I don’t think you understand how hot that was, don’t apologize my love.” He gestures to the passenger seat, helping you off of him and guiding you there to sit tight and catch yourself for a second. He then leans the drivers seat back fully again, stepping over it to sit in the spacious middle seat. He unbuttons his shirt the rest of the way before removing his glasses, tossing them somewhere far in the back seats. He holds one of his hands out to you, patting his thigh sharply with his other, ordering your immediate presence.

You crawl over the front armrest and take Yunho’s hand as he helps you towards him. You start to kneel down in front of him and he stops you, “Nooo no, no, none of that today.” “But I really want to.” “I knowww, and you do it so well, but we’re kind of on a fixed schedule.” Yunho gestures behind you to the time on the soft glowing screen on the dashboard. You sigh in agreement, “I wanted to get you ready too.” “Oh babe,” He begins to undue his belt buckle and pants, his fully hard cock slapping against his lower abdomen as he slides his pants down lower freeing him. “Does it look like I need to get ready?” Your mouth waters, his cock glistening as precum trails down the tip, and you moan at the sight. “Oh my God.” He laughs at your eager demeanor, “Come here baby,” he pats his thighs again signaling you to straddle him once more, your legs on either side of him cushioned by the materials used to adorn the luxury car seats.

Yunho hikes your skirt up higher, sliding his hands underneath to trail down your sheer-tights-clad inner thighs and up to your panties. Your breaths were short, shallow, hesitant. You closed your eyes as Yunho felt you up, getting you worked up again in the process, unbeknownst to himself, or was this all part of his plan? “These weren’t too pricey, right?” He pinches at your tights, “No they weren’t, why?”

****rrrr-rrrrrr-rrrrrrriiiiippp!****

You gasp as you feel the force from Yunho ripping your tights right down the middle, smacking his shoulder. “They weren’t pricey but they were my favorite!” “Shhh, I’ll buy you 10 more.” You lean your head on his shoulder, pouting…until you feel his slender hands move your panties to the side. Your breath begins to get shallow again, feeling his warm tip slide up and down your wet folds. You moan involuntarily, “Awww, come on baby I haven’t even put it in yet.” “I knowww, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” “I do,” You feel him slowly push into you, leaning your head back as you cry out. “This cunt was just waaaiting to get fucked, because today is a little different than the other days,” He picks up his pace, fucking up into you steady but firm, “Today your pussy is a little bit more needy for me,” the recoil of your ass sending vibrations through your lower body as Yunho’s movements are relentless. “Today you’re gonna let me get you pregnant.”

And there it was. Your brain immediately shuts off. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, and so hard-” “Unnnnhhhhhooohhhh my Godddddd!” “Yeahhhhh, yeah let me hear you baby,” You grip the disheveled collar of Yunho’s shirt, completely at his mercy, taking what he gives you. “I’m gonna cum all in this pretty fucking cunt and get you pregnant, I’m gonna make you a Mommy.” “Yunho Please! Pleaseee~” “Please what my love?” Yunho lifts your chin up to meet his gaze, your dark brown eyes staring several miles into his own, communicating beyond a frequency that sound couldn’t even capture in that moment, and he understood every bit of it…but figured it would be fulfilling just to hear it fall from your lips, “Pleaseeee? What.” “Please make me a Mommy~” In seconds, he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he drills into you. “Ahhhhhh!!!!” The sound of your screams, bounce off the interior of the car, and you pray that the seats absorb it all.

“Yesss, yes! Let me hear you Mama. Fuckkkk let me hear you!” “Fuckkkk!” “Uh huhhh~ Fuck! You sound so good taking my dick like this! Ughhhh~” You both were a mess, fully enraptured in pleasure and no longer prisoners to time. You place your forehead against Yunho’s now eye to eye as he continues to lean into you with force, your breathing syncing with his, both chasing your highs. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you.” He asks you with dark eyes, almost as if it wasn’t a request. Suddenly you’re whimpering against his lips, “Yeah you are gonna cum, you’re close, so close for me.” “I’m-“ “I’m gonna-“ He mocks, imitating your whines, “You’re gonna what, cream around me and take this cum like a good little wife?” All you could do was gasp at his sharp remarks, “You’re gonna cum for me like a good little wife? Hm?” “Yeah!” “Yeah? You’re gonna take my fucking cum like a good fucking wife?” “Yes! Yes! Ye- Yes! Yes! Yes!” You gush around him, repeating your words like a mantra against his ear. He returns the favor, “Good Girl” replaying in his surprisingly vulgar vocabulary as he finishes inside of you. You collapse against him for some time. Aligning your heaving chest with his as you both come down. Clammy from the altercation. You swivel around some assuming it may help with the progress, and he moans a little.

“What are you doing?” Yunho laughs at you endearingly, watching you be an unintentional menace. “I don’t know I just thought it might do something.” You giggle some, lifting off of his softening length with your combined messes drooling out of you and down your inner thighs. Yunho takes it all in, shaking his head in amazement at the fucked out state of you. Just as he imagined it, better than he imagined, even. Staring him down, you study his body language, how he looks subtly exhausted but not TOO drained. Almost as if on a bodily timer, your temperature starts to rise again, “You’re plotting.” you narrow your eyes at him. Sucking in a sharp breath between teeth, Yunho helps you up, only to place you over the front armrest.

You squirm as your stomach and breasts make contact with the cold leather. “See I KNEW you were plotting!” “Oh hush, don’t act like you’re not excited.” Yunho makes light work of your tights, pulling off and discarding what was left of it, and sliding your panties off of one of your legs in order to spread them further apart. Your breathing catches at the gust of air that hits your pussy. Yunho’s cock inches away as he works his hand over it. He reaches his hand around holding it out to your mouth, “Spit.”, and you oblige him. He continues to work himself hard again, one hand bunching your business skirt up your waist, exposing your bare ass. His hand slides down to caress it, before landing a harsh smack, resorting back to soothing over the stinging spot. All marks undetectable on your brown skin, he lands a few more smacks on both cheeks, knowing he’ll be safe. You jolt and whine at the barrage of sharp pain and he leans down to pepper the side of your face in kisses, rubbing your attacked spots to soothe the pain.

“Don’t forget to breathe my love.” You didn’t realize you weren’t until he mentioned it, immediately offloading a heavy breath. Yunho clicks his tongue as he braces one hand on your shoulder to hold you in place, fiddling with the bunched up hem of your skirt. Your body stiffens as you feel him use his fingers to collect your cum and push it back into your pussy. You shudder in pleasure, still recovering from your last high, not too far from another if touched too much. You feel him shift behind you again as his cock teases its way past your entrance one more time. “Mmm, You wore this skirt on purpose Mama?” He glides into you with ease, bottoming out effortlessly, and you sink into the armrest, your moan resembling that of a pornstar’s. “You knew you were gonna see me to get this pretty pussy filled, Hmm?” Yunho immediately picks up the pace, keeping his hand firm on your shoulder, guiding you back onto him. “Ooooohhhhh~” “Yeahhhh? You wore this skirt because you knew you were gonna get knocked up with my babies? Huh?” Yunho’s words started to slur as they turned into shameless moans, “Yeahhh~ keep moaning for me, it’s just us here, keep going, I wanna hear youuu~” even he started sounding pornstar-like, it was music to your already ringing ears.

He began to pound into you with fervor, your tits now hanging over the armrest, bouncing violently as you grip the seating of the driver’s and passengers seat to avoid going headfirst into the dashboard. “Oh fuckkkk I’m gonna cum again, shit- shit- shittttt~” Yunho plants a foot on the flooring of the suv to steady himself as he leans flush against your back, engulfing you. “Yes, yes, yessss~ come inside of me pleaseeee~” Your final plea sends him over the edge, ultimately setting off a chain reaction that makes you cum around him all over again.

You shudder with each thrust as he slows his pace gradually before coming to a complete stop, staying in the same position as he bear hugs you from behind over the dashboard. You laugh to yourselves as you match your breathing once more, an exercise you both had been doing since the start of everything. Thank God workers at Yunho’s job actually took advantage of leaving the facility for lunch, or else your windows definitely would’ve been knocked on. Sure, the 5% tint helps, but you’re sure the car rocking would’ve given enough away.

Yunho peels himself off of you and helps you up, sitting you down next to him in the middle seats. You lay your head on his shoulders as the both of you dwell in the backseat, visibly fucked out. Yunho’s shirt hangs open and off one shoulder with a button or two missing, crucifix chain crooked yet still sitting proudly on his chest, even after such a sinful act. Your soft locs were fully down by now, splayed and running down the side of Yunho’s torso. Your skirt and his pants still undone, neither of you bothering to bother with your surroundings just yet. Yet your blouse was surprisingly still somewhat presentable. You both sit in solitude and enjoyment of each other for a little while longer. Yunho looks down at you lovingly, watching as you pull your phone out to do something. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” “Letting the Editor in Chief know that I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day? Noo, I couldn’t possibly…” “Oh well that’s a shame…” You look at your husband, waiting, “Because I told the team to take the rest of the day off.” THAT’S why the deck looked so lifeless. “I can’t believe you set me up!” He peppers your face in kisses one last time.

“Alright, let’s get out of here, we definitely need to change. We’re celebrating tonight.” “Tonight? Forrrrr?” “For theeee…..you know…..” Yunho gestures towards himself then your stomach, and you grin knowingly. “The lunch rush?” “Exactlyyy, the lunch rush.” He says before pulling you in for one last kiss. Yunho helps fix up your appearance before assisting you out of the Range Rover and back into your car. Kissing you for the last time yet again. “I’ll be right behind you.” He starts back to his vehicle, looking over to you, “Oh, feel free to put me in your schedule whenever you have an hour or two for lunch. Just to make sure it takes.” Yunho winks at you, getting back in the car as you both leave work for the day.

‧₊˚✩. ˚. ♡ ☁︎ If you liked what you read, please let me know, it gives me hope. Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated ‧₊˚✩. ˚. ♡ ☁︎

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hrrtshape · 27 days ago

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foods i ate in my better cr that now haunt my waking hours.

i have returned from the other side. the gilded penthouse doors have shut, the streets of new york have blurred into the mirage of memory, and yet......i am afflicted. by longing. by hunger. by the ghosts of meals past. my taste buds have been irreversibly colonised by another reality’s superior gastronomy, and now, in this lesser plane, i am left to rot, salivating over what i once had. let’s discuss.

　　　　　　　　　　　 ⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

　[ i , ] that one bagel that was a religious experience : i’m talking about the perfect bagel. a bagel so transcendent, it made me believe in fate. it had the perfect chew, the kind that fights back just a little before yielding to divine softness. a smear of scallion cream cheese, the exact right saltiness, balancing that toasty, malty warmth of the bread. try finding that exact bite in this reality....impossible. i am forever chasing the ghost of that bagel.

　[ ii , ] the $24 salad that ruined all other salads for me : new york, in any reality, is an absolute menace for making you pay obscene amounts of money for food that, logically, should be cheap. and yet, this overpriced, greens-based epiphany had no right being so good. it had the perfect ratio of crunch to creaminess, crisp little gem lettuce, buttery avocado (in this reality i for some reason...liked avocados??? came as a surprise!), these impossibly thin radish slices that made me feel like i was eating couture. the dressing..... i don’t even know what was in it. it tasted like wealth, people. it tasted like i had stocks in something lucrative. now every salad i eat in this reality may as well taste like sorrow.

　[ iii , ] the pasta that might have been a love letter : there was this tiny restaurant, candle-lit, the kind of place that only seats like 10 people at a time, where i ate the most immaculate cacio e pepe of my life. it was poetry in pasta form. each strand coated in a glossy, peppery, pecorino-laced sauce that clung to it with the devotion of a lover. the pasta itself was handmade. you could taste the craftsmanship. it made me want to sit down with the chef and ask what great tragedy in their life had led them to perfect this dish with such aching precision. because surely, no one cooks like that unless they’ve known longing.

　[ iv , ] the coffee that altered my brain chemistry : i had a latte so good, i saw colours. it wasn’t just coffee. it was a sensory event. the milk was frothed to the exact texture of a daydream, the espresso was rich but not bitter, caramel-like but not sweet. it was served in a heavy, warm ceramic cup, the kind that makes you want to wrap both hands around it and tell someone your deepest secrets. it made me feel like a person who writes letters on expensive stationery. it made me feel like my skin was clear, like i had purpose. now....i drink coffee and feel nothing.

　[ v , ] the slice of pizza that was more than pizza : new york pizza is a spiritual entity. the slice i had wasn’t just food. it was a promise. the crust had that perfect crisp-but-chewy balance, the cheese melted in strands of longing, the sauce tangy and bright in a way that could cure seasonal depression. i folded it, i took a bite, and for a moment, i understood the meaning of life. even with lily moaning next to me about how good it was. in this reality, i put frozen pizza in the oven and am met only with disappointment.

　　　　　　　　　 ‧　　 ₊　　˚　　 ⋅

i could go on..... i should go on. but the pain is too great. these meals have marked me forever, and now i am left to mourn them, to wander this reality’s restaurants like a forlorn ghost searching for something i will never find. if anyone needs me, i’ll be in the kitchen, staring at a sad, lesser bagel, wondering what could have been.

　until my next shift. 　　emma........

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 3 months ago

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Moth to the Flame Pt. 1 | Dr. Crane x Reader

summary: Dr. Jonathan Crane isn't the only 'crazy' in Gotham City and he's about to meet his match. When confronted with an unpleasant secret from his past, he's skeptical to trust the strange young woman who calls herself Victoria Vale, the rightful heiress to Arkham Asylum (and maybe his downfall).

warnings: none yet but oh baby just you wait...

A/N: I really enjoy using the original DC comic lore so if you've been following me for a while, you'll recognize the backstories in this but I've tried to make a completely different plot line.

bury a friend- Billie Eilish 🎶

“Professor Crane?” You poke your head into the small office, the heavy door slightly crushing your body against the doorframe. The raven-haired man looks up from a stack of research papers on his desk and cocks an unwelcome eyebrow.

“Come back during my office hours.” He waves you off with his free hand as he grades a paper with a red pen. His voice has the strange ability to both attract you and put you ill-at-ease at the same time. You step inside and let the heavy door close behind you. You don’t need to lock it, yet. Dr. Crane looks you up and down quickly, his lip curled in displeasure and disinterest.

“It’s a quick question, I promise sir,” you lie through your teeth, your dimples showing beneath your full cheeks as you smile. Dr. Crane looks up at you from over the rim of his harsh rectangular frames. He stares at you for a moment, his blue eyes shifting as he thinks, then finally he sighs and sits back in his desk chair.

“What’s your name?” He removes his glasses and wipes the lenses clean with the corner of his suit jacket. He puts them back on as you sit down opposite of him, the desk between you. You glance down at the research papers, an action that is barely noticeable, if at all.

“Victoria,” you answer and watch as Dr. Crane sighs again, impatiently. He rolls his eyes after a moment of silence and leans forward, gesturing his hand through the air to get you to continue.

“What did you want to ask me?” He asks pointedly, losing whatever patience he had left.

“Well we’ve spoken once before but it was just a brief exchange after one of your lectures,” you start and Crane watches you, barely paying attention now. His eyes seem to glaze over. “I asked you about the chemical components of fear. I’d like to hear your answer.” You say slowly, your hands playing with the edge of your seat. Dr. Crane barely cocks his head to the side before he clucks his tongue and looks away.

“Did you not like the answer I gave you before?”

“I’d forgotten what you said,” you explain as you wipe your clammy hands on your thighs. Dr. Crane threw his gaze back to you and raised an eyebrow, his expression one of obvious judgment.

“Fear is an emotional response to a threat. It’s a basic evolutionary survival mechanism. The two primary parts of the brain that deal with fear are the amygdala and the hippocampus…” he answers dully, regurgitating what every psych student already knows.

“Respectfully, sir,” you start, your voice steady, “I’m talking about the chemical components of fear, not the anatomical.”

Dr. Crane regards you with an unreadable expression and then removes his glasses, sighing deeply again. He looks down at his glasses and then clears his throat.

“You’re interested in fear chemistry, are you?” His tone is low and dry, like he’s mocking you.

“Interested isn’t exactly the right word.” You answer with a small shrug.

“What is the right word then, Victoria?” The way he says your name is sharp, like a door closing when you aren’t expecting it. He finally looks up at you again.

“I’m…” you search for the right word and then wet your lips, “... attracted to the concept of fear. It’s almost like a passion project that can’t be satisfied.”

“Attracted to fear?” Crane repeats slowly, though his face doesn’t change.

“Fear is one of the most fascinating phenomena in the creation of our universe, don’t you think?”

Dr. Crane regards you differently, his breath shifting to a new rhythm. He wets his lips before he answers, his words measured.

“One could debate that. I’d say pleasure or desire are more complex and powerful. Why fear?”

“It’s the power of control over both the mind and body,” you respond without batting an eye.

“Is it power that fascinates you, Victoria?” Crane asks softly, his hands clenching and relaxing in his lap. “One could say that pleasure can have a similar effect.”

You allow yourself to blush, knowing it’ll look more believable if you do. “Well, it’s also about control…”

Dr. Crane looks down at his hands again and thinks for a moment before responding, his voice still calm and even despite the shift in the room.

“Do you find control attractive?”

“Well, don’t you? Isn’t that why you became a teacher? The role gives you control over the development of new minds,” you smile sweetly.

A rare smirk creeps across Crane’s face. He looks up at you and puts his glasses back on, the silver frames catching the light of the fluorescent bulbs.

“You’re very perceptive,” he trails off and folds his hands on the desk in front of him. “Control is a powerful and attractive aspect of fear.”

“And what’s so fascinating about fear specifically is that it is universal. Everyone has something that they’re afraid of… even you. And that’s what led me to ask myself this question: what are you, Professor Crane, afraid of? And for the life of me, I can’t figure it out.” Your eyes meet his with an obvious change in intentionality. Crane doesn’t react but feels himself leaning forward slightly like a snake rearing its head.

“I have a few guesses but it doesn’t matter for right now,” you continue when he doesn’t respond. “I read your old thesis about fear in mammalian species and it’s given me a lot of insight into my own mind.”

“You’ve read my thesis?” Dr. Crane cocks his brow again and grips his hands together painfully. His body goes cold in warning like a lightning rod in a thunderstorm. “Most of my students barely attend class, much less decide to read my work.”

This is the moment. You lean forward slightly, your hair falling off your shoulders, your eyes wide with excitement.

“Oh, I never said I was a student, Professor Crane.”

Dr. Crane freezes, his cold heart stuttering in his chest. He swallows slowly, trying to collect his thoughts before he responds.

“Then who, may I ask, are you?”

“I attended one of your lectures on radical treatment of phobias, which is where we spoke for the first time, and yes, I did sit in on one of your classes and left with additional reading materials and a better appreciation for your work. Your thesis however,” you tilt your head away in a show of shyness, “that’s available for any ‘crazy’ to find.”

“Mmm so, you’re just a ‘crazy’ then?” Crane hums cooly, “But that still doesn’t answer how you managed to get a copy of my thesis. It was pulled from circulation and all hard copies that I was aware of were destroyed.”

“I’m good at getting answers and it helps when people find you attractive…” you shift in your seat, looking away. You can feel Crane’s eyes on you as he considers your answer.

“And I guess that means you think that I find you attractive?” Crane guesses cooly, his eyes not leaving your face. You look back at him and take note of his guarded expression. Taking a breath, you fix your hair and meet his eyes.

“I think you’re attracted to my mind.”

“Who are you?” He asks again, leaning closer against his better judgment, like a moth to the flame.

“I’m surprised you’re so unconcerned with my presence here, late at night when everyone else has gone home…” your posture is rigidly still as you speak. Dr. Crane smirks softly.

“You are a very beautiful and intelligent young woman, and you don’t look very dangerous to me. Why would I be concerned?”

“Because I think I know what you’re afraid of, doc.” You whisper and Crane freezes again, his heart jumping in his chest at your thinly veiled threat. Despite his feelings of unease, Crane smiles. He studies your lips as you speak and the way your body is angled towards him.

“And what is it that I’m afraid of?”

And just like that, it’s become a game.

You smile a little, wanting him to feel safe and comfortable. He isn't intimidated by you yet and you want him to take you seriously. You lean closer, ducking your head in a whisper.

“Being found out…”

“About what, pet?” Crane asks pointedly, in a challenging tone.

“Well…,” you sit back in your chair casually and tuck your hair behind your ears. “I’ve always had a natural inclination towards crime. That’s what made me become a detective. I thought what I wanted was to restore justice in Gotham, but I’ve quickly learned that justice is a jealous mistress and maybe my interest in crime has other motives… Are you following me so far?”

Dr. Crane massages his mouth with his hand, listening intently. His lips are pursed beneath his fingers, his eyes void of any telling secrets.

“So far,” he sighs.

“You and I share something very important. It’s made us both who we are today. I just realized it before you did.”

“Oh? And what do you think we share?” He furrows his brow skeptically.

You stand and brush the hem of your dress over your thighs. As Crane watches you, you trail a finger over the books on your bookshelf, stopping at one and pretending to read one of the pages.

“Thomas Wayne.”

You toss the book in front of him on the desk. The book is open to the author bio. It’s a picture of your parents, the authors of a book on criminal psychology. The Arkhams.

"These are my parents. My name was Victoria Vale when I was born. Thomas Wayne murdered them and they put me in an orphanage. I didn’t know they were my parents until I started looking into the Waynes. And then I found you…” You keep your story short and to-the-point, not wanting to reveal too much. Dr. Crane looks between the photo and you, his brow furrowed as he works it all out in his head. Maybe for the first time in his life, he finds himself speechless.

“So you really are crazy, aren’t you, pet?” He covers the shaky tone of his voice with a sneer. You ignore him and close the book, pushing it aside on the desk.

“Tell me, what did Thomas Wayne do to you?”

Dr. Crane looks up at you and scoffs. He removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and his thumb until the pressure between his eyes fades.

“And why would I tell you that?”

“Because I already know the answer, I’m just giving you the opportunity to say it.” You lean against the bookshelf and cross your arms over your chest. Dr. Crane regards you with suspicion and shakes his head.

“You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” You bite back. You stare at each other, eyes narrowed and blood pumping. Dr. Crane finally sighs through his nose and puts his glasses back on. His eyes bore into you, punishing you for asking him this question. He holds your gaze with a mixture of pain, bitterness and cold rage. He speaks as if the words are acid in his mouth.

“Thomas Wayne destroyed my family and my childhood. He was a ruthless and cruel man and I’m glad he’s dead.”

You stare back at him and notice the original tension between you changing, shifting as your power shifts.

“Then we’re kindred spirits, you and I. It was only a matter of time until I found you, the famous criminal psychiatrist with-” You lean over the desk, looking directly into his eyes,” startling blue eyes.” You take a breath before continuing, not waiting for him to respond.

“Because I’m a good detective, not like any of my ignorant male peers, I looked into a string of unusual robberies and I noticed that most of Falcone’s men were being moved to Arkham Asylum… on your orders.”

Crane is silent for a moment, impressed by your intelligence and deduction. He feels his heart starting to pound a little faster again. He does not deny it, but doesn’t confirm your suspicions either.

“I may have had some influence in those transfers.”

“Don’t worry, Crane, I’m not here to cause trouble for you. I just wanted to meet the man I’ve admired for so long and see if I can be of some… help.” You smile and pass your fingers over the research papers organized across the desk. You’re catching him off guard on how well you know him and he can’t tell if he likes it or not. His eyes flick across your face again, taking in the sight of your dark eyes and darker eyelashes.

“You admire me?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“How does a young, beautiful girl like yourself become so interested in a man like me?” Then he pauses and wets his lips before adding with a smirk, “why, exactly, do you admire me?”

“Your work, it’s impressive. And what can I say… ” You look back up at him with a serious look on your face as you drag a finger across the research papers, pulling out a piece of scratch paper. “I like your style.”

On the corner of the paper, there is a drawing of a scarecrow. You drag it slowly across the desk until it sits in front of Crane on the desk. You don’t need to say anything else. He looks down at the drawing, swallows, then looks up at you.

“Stop acting dumb, doc. I know more than you think. Like I said, I’m good at finding information and sticking my nose into places where it may not belong.”

Crane’s pulse quickens at the edge in your voice, his fingers reaching for and clutching the paper tightly. He wants to be irritated, but somehow you’re bringing out a different, a darker and playful part of him.

“Once again, you’ve proven yourself to be a very observant and talented young woman. Maybe too talented. I think you’re too dangerous to keep around my office, Miss Vale. You’re a liability.”

“What are you going to do to me, Crane? Are you going to use your… little fear toxin on me?” You smile, leaning further across the desk where Crane hasn’t moved from his seat. He looks up at you, smirking slyly.

“Maybe I will.” Dr. Crane starts to stand, and when he does, he’s taller than you but not by much. He isn’t a very tall man, you could easily take him if you needed to. You’re still separated by the desk but you’re close enough to smell his cologne.

“Impressed by my skills of deduction?” You ask, clasping your hands behind your back.

Crane walks slowly around his desk to stand in front of you, looking you up and down intently. He tilts his head to the side, his voice distant and distracted.

“More than a little impressed, yes. You’ve figured out an awful lot about me in a very short time.”

“Now don’t you want to know why I’m here? Your survival instincts are annoyingly slow, Crane,” you tease.

Crane bristles, displeased with your slight to his intelligence. He crosses his arms over his chest and sits back against the desk, clenching his jaw. “I would love to know why you’re here. You’ve been very coy about that point.”

You nod and move away from him to continue looking at the books, organized meticulously on the bookshelf. “I have a proposition for you. I want to be… business partners.” You can see Crane watching you from out of the corner of your eye. Crane chuckles a little, stunned.

“Business partners, huh? And what exactly would that entail?”

Crane’s eyes sweep over your figure again as he imagines what kind of ‘business partners’ he’d want to be.

“I’ll help you with your grand plan for Gotham and in return I get two things…” you keep your eyes on the spines, your fingers following the edges of each book.

“Mm?” Crane hums, listening carefully now that you have his full attention.

“1. I get to lead beside you when you successfully turn Gotham upside down and 2. I get what’s rightfully mine… Arkham Asylum.” You turn back to look at him, refusing to be intimidated by him even when he looks at you like something he’d like to eat.

Crane’s eyes widen and he almost starts to laugh. His navel warms, aroused by your attitude and threats. He chuckles softly and moves his hands to grip the desk on either side of his body.

“Gotham city flipped upside down, and Arkham Asylum in your hands. Your terms are surprisingly bold, Miss Vale.”

“What can I say, Crane? I’m in the business of retribution.” You shrug, not backing down.

Crane chuckles again and shakes his head, “Touché.” He imagines himself pinning you against the bookshelf and feels himself get hard just at the thought of it. He watches you closely, noticing your unwavering resolve. “And how can you be sure I won’t use my toxin on you?”

It’s your turn to laugh now. You smile and step closer to him, meeting his cool eyes. You let your eyes look him up and down, admiring the way his lean body hides beneath his expensive suit.

“I’ve prepared for that possibility… but I like playing with fire.” You pull a lighter out from your pocket and strike a flame. It glows between your faces.

Crane smiles in amusement at your audacity then his eyes dart between your face and the flame separating the two of you.

“You are playing a dangerous game, Miss Vale.”

“My favorite,” you respond coolly and play with the flame in your hand. Crane’s eyes follow the flame and he swallows. “So? What say you?”

He should stop you, he should kick you out of his office and ignore you, but the fire in your eyes and the confidence in your words makes him want to take a risk. He reaches out quickly and takes hold of your chin, tilting your face up so that he can see it clearly. His voice is a low whisper.

“You’re a dangerous little thing, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you have no idea.” You snap the lighter closed and tuck it into Crane’s breast pocket. “Regards from Thomas Wayne. I thought you should have it.”

Crane looks down at the lighter, dropping his hand away from your chin. His eyes dart back to your face, assessing the weight of your words. Your demeanor is cold and almost amused. Crane swallows, his skin growing cold where the lighter now sits.

“Where did you get this, Miss Vale?”

“Not only do I want what’s rightfully mine, you deserve what they took from you too. Think of this as my promise and a peace offering.” You pat his breast pocket, your face getting dangerously close to his. He flinches when you touch him and clenches his jaw. He looks down to your hand patting his pocket and raises a sharp brow.

“And you’re willing to help me get my revenge?”

“It would be mine too.”

“Against Thomas Wayne?”

“Against the whole city… but especially the Waynes.” You whisper, managing to take a step closer. Crane chuckles, admiring the way your eyes darken when you speak so severely. He leans down a little closer to your ear, his breath ruffling your hair.

“A pretty, vengeful vixen. I’m starting to like you, Miss Vale.”

“Now, now, now-” You push him back with a sly smile, your teeth showing, “We’re business partners, not fuck buddies. You’ll need to behave yourself if you want to make this work.”

Crane actually laughs, though the sound is raspy and dark, it’s still a laugh. He allows you to push him back and holds up his hands in mock surrender, sitting back on the edge of his desk.

“Feisty. Ok, I’ll play the part. No need to worry, Miss Vale… though the thought is… tempting.”

“Not intoxicating? I’ll just have to try harder next time,” you smile as you pull on your coat from the chair. Dr. Crane watches you from his desk, his eyes following your arms as you slide into the quilted coat.

“Oh you know exactly how intoxicating you are. Don’t be coy, Miss Vale.”

“Maybe I’m just a Jack of All Trades,” you shrug and move to the door. Crane crosses his arms over his chest again and nods slowly.

“Yes, I’m starting to see that now. You’re full of surprises.” He can’t help but look you up and down again, his eyes lingering on the shape of your thighs or the angular way you hold your head. He wets his lips, wetting his pallet.

“Well, here’s another one,” you smile, fully aware of his arousal, “Falcone was taken into custody today. Someone, and I’m not saying who, may have given him a razor blade. He’ll need a psych evaluation and you need to be the one to do it. I don’t trust him to keep his mouth shut if this goes to trial.”

Crane raises an eyebrow, impressed by your thoroughness.

“Falcone in custody. Hmm. A razor blade? What a coincidence...” he starts to wonder exactly how far you’re willing to take this revenge of yours. He can feel himself getting excited in more ways than one.

“You’ve got the right idea, Miss Vale. I’d be more than happy to take over his evaluation.”

“Good. I’ll arrange for you to administer it between your lectures. You’re such a busy man. Professor by day, psychopath by night. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I’ve made a lot of sacrifices,” he answers cooly, calmly, “As have you, it seems.”

Something passes between you, something shifts once again in your eyes.

“Goodnight, Dr. Crane.”

You start to leave but turn around briefly to speak, your eyes growing softer. You’re actually capable of feelings too, not just well-worded threats. “Don’t lose the lighter… it’s the one he used…”

You leave the sentence in the air between you, hoping he’ll understand what you mean. Dr. Crane seems to freeze again as he processes what you’re saying. He puts his hand against his breast pocket to feel the outline of the lighter. He clenches his jaw and finally nods.

“Goodnight, Miss Vale.”

You nod once and open the door, pushing against its heavy weight.

“I’ll be in touch,” you say over your shoulder and Crane fixes his glasses.

“I’m sure.”

Only when the door closes behind you and you’re walking down the dim hallway do you allow yourself to exhale. Dr. Crane was so much more impressive in person… and so much more attractive. You had almost faltered on your plans until you remembered how much you needed him, and how important it was that the two of you meet. Though you must admit, acting unbothered has never been harder. You run your hand through your hair and slip out of the science building on campus. You’re wearing a quilted coat, more for professionalism than warmth. It’s late Spring in Gotham and it’s too warm for a coat. In fact, there’s a heatwave coming in the next week. But you keep the coat on because the color is dark, helping you blend into the shadows of every building in the city.

The moment the door closes, Crane finds himself almost unable to breathe. He’s nearly shaking and feels strangely off-balance like you’ve completely turned his world on its head. He walks back around his desk to his chair and slowly lowers himself into the seat. He exhales shakily and pinches the bridge of his nose above his glasses. Part of him wants you, the other part wants you gone. With a sigh, Crane pulls the lighter out of his pocket and places it on the desk, looking at it while his thoughts run wild.

You hadn’t needed to say the words for him to piece it together: this was the lighter that Thomas Wayne used to kill his mother, and by extension, his father. The knowledge of what you’ve given him finally sinks in and he takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching again. He feels a cold shiver rush over him, a thousand thoughts running through his mind at once. He can’t tell if he wants to cry or scream or laugh. Crane reaches out and grabs the lighter, his knuckles turning white. He thinks of you, of your audacity to crash his carefully constructed life with your own plans of revenge. He plays with the lighter, his lips pulled into an unhappy snarl. But the longer he thinks about you, the more he feels himself growing to like you. As much trouble as you could cause him, he liked how fast you thought on your feet and how good you looked in that dress.

Hours seem to pass before he can slowly regain control of himself enough to clear his head a little. He’s trying to understand you… he wants to trust you but there’s a very loud part of his mind that’s screaming not to. He can’t deny the fact that you’ve completely enthralled him, in fact, the thought of seeing you again makes his heart pound in perverse excitement. He tosses the lighter back on the desk and runs a hand over his face.

“Damn you…"

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miedei · 2 months ago

Note

saw your post about wanting to write a one off and was thinking spencer buys reader a cute gift or something ‘just because’ or he saw it and thought of her and she’s like completely taken aback and happy and idk its short but fluffy

you angel i love this!!

set this in a newly established relationship because i said so

.8k, new bf spencer buys you a gift out of nowhere

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

mlist

Toeing open your front door, you sigh contentedly. It's the first evening this week that you have something to look forward to, and it's giddy, the feeling you get.

The texts you exchanged with Spencer pop up when you unlock your phone, and you smile dopily at it. The first was sent two hours ago:

SPENCER!: Just made it back to the office. We'll be here for a little while. Can I go over to your place afterward?

And then, ten minutes after the first one:

SPENCER!: I hope it's okay I asked that. I haven't seen you in a while.

You had texted him back immediately, giving him the go-ahead to meet you at your apartment when you got home, and now you can't wait, busying yourself with chores to make the time pass faster.

You're puttering around your kitchen when the three distinctive knocks that you've come to recognise as Spencer's ring out through the space. Opening the door, a smile creeps onto your face at the sight of him.

He's clearly frazzled, hair messy and shirt wrinkled, but he looks so soft. You can't help but reach up on your toes and press a kiss to his cheek, if only to see the flush rise up his neck as you do so.

"I missed you." You lead him into the living room, watching him set down his go bag and look down at you.

"I missed you too. I'm glad... Glad I could come see you tonight."

A thrill runs up your spine at the sight of him, standing in your home with no (okay, maybe a little) nerves. Every time you see him here it feels like the space bends around him, inviting him in until it feels like he belongs here.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him down to the couch, sitting next to him at a calculated distance. Not too far where you can't touch him, but still far enough that your brain won't be overwhelmed by his proximity.

You're little apprehensive, the first time you see Spencer after some time apart, wondering if the chemistry between you would fade after the distance. However, you're quickly proven wrong, conversation flowing so freely that it takes a couple hours for Spencer to remember what he wanted to do when he got here.

You've both shifted, your feet tucked up under you and your side pressed against his, when he finally remembers, straightening up against you.

"I have something for you!" You look up at him quizzically, confused at the suddenness of his comment. He holds your shoulders gently (albeit with quite a bit of blushing), angling you so that you're not leaning on him anymore. It allows him to stand up, rifling through his leather satchel until he finds it.

It's a small cuboid package, wrapped in brown paper. You shift on the couch, setting your feet on the floor so you can look at him as he settles next to you again.

"What is this?" At the sound of your words, he presses the package into your hands.

"When we finished the case, Elle showed me a bookstore near the precinct that we were at. I found some books I was looking for, and also..." He trails off, gesturing at the package in your lap. "Open it."

As you carefully unwrap the paper, you can see his hands fidgeting in his lap, sending a rush of affection through you.

"Spencer, you really didn't have to get me anything, I'm just happy you're- oh my god." The paper pulls apart to reveal a clothbound copy of Emma by Jane Austen, your favourite book of all time.

Running your hand over the beautiful book, you look up at him, eyes full of emotion.

"You got this for me?" He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You showed me your copy a few weeks ago, and I thought you'd maybe like a hardcover as well. I don't know, I just saw it and thought of you. Is this too much? I'm sorry if I'm coming on too strong-" He's cut off by you throwing your arms over his shoulders, tugging him into a hug that attempts to show him how much this means to you.

You've only been dating for a few months, and you'd mentioned the book only once, the first time he came over to your apartment. You can recall the delight in his eyes when he saw the well-worn paperback that sits in prime position in your bookshelf.

It's overwhelming, the thought that he remembered that detail for so long, that he thought of you when he was out for work, that he bought it for you when it wasn't an occasion or anything. You can only bury your face in his neck, murmuring words into his skin.

"It's perfect, Spencer, thank you. You're perfect. God, I missed you."

You can't see it this time, but the heat of his skin against yours tells you that he's blushing again, even as he brings his arms up to wrap around you.

#feeling a bit weird about writing recently #short stuff like this definitely helps!! send in requests!!#earlyseasons!spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #writing #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler

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nymphomatique · 1 year ago

Note

Can I get a Nerd!Miguel with a soft dom? I desperately need this man to be babbling and sputtering as he gets praised

u absolutely can nonnie 😌

❤︎ a/n: please lmk if u guys want more gn/male reader fics! i will def try my best to be as correct as possible, all things considered, im afab so there’s margin for error. please don’t hesitate to send an ask or a message! enjoy <3

cw: subby miguel, soft dom!gn reader (but i wrote this with a male reader in mind :]), jerking miguel off, miguel has a praise kink, affectionate terms, sex but no specific genitalia mentioned. just generally sweet.

“a B plus?” you scoff, “what happened to that brain of yours, it magically disappear?” you spit at miguel, poking a finger to his forehead.

you had just received the results from your chemistry lab that miguel had done for you, and it wasn’t the usual grade margin you had expected. miguel had been sitting in your room on your desk chair, hands folded between his lap with a meek expression plastered on his face. “well, you gonna explain yourself?” you prod, getting slightly irritated at his silence and demeanour alike.

miguel swallows and looks up at you, and yoh see tears welling in his eyes. it takes you by surprise, and your eyes widen a bit at the emotional shift in the atmosphere. “i- i’m sorry, just been having a hard time, s’all,” miguel mumbles out, wiping the tears away before the fall. you chest feels a pang at the tone of his voice, an unfamiliar emotion brewing inside you.

“hey, um, we- you don’t have to do this— us, if it’s making you feel bad,” you begin, feeling uncomfortable a bit. miguel’s head shoots up and he immediately starts shaking it in disagreement. “no- i um- i.. like.. us. what we do, in a fucked up way,” miguel sputters out and you feel.. conflicted at his words.

“well, we’re taking it easy for today, alright? you’re um- not doin’ so well. so i’ll take care of you, yeah?” you reply, and you place your hands palm up at miguel, still in his chair. he looks up at you for a moment, hesitant, but he places his hands in yours, and you pull him up out for the chair and towards your bed, pushing him down softly. “strip for me?” you ask, and miguel complies, removing and placing his glasses at your bedside table next to your lamp before he pulls his white t-shirt up and over his head, revealing the peeking muscle, gorgeous tan and trail of thick black hair on his abdomen you’ve grown familiar with.

“you’re a pretty one, y’know that?” you tell him, watching him strip languidly in front of you. he doesn’t respond, but you see a blush creep up from miguel’s chest to his cheeks, as he makes way to remove his pants and underwear next. you follow shortly after him, both of you naked and full of emotion.

“you ready?” you ask softly, straddling miguel’s lap. your arms go to wrap around his neck, his on your hips, and he legs out a soft “yes,” and you begin to start. you softly push his tousled brown hair out of his face and kiss hit forehead, nose bridge, and the tip of his nose. you look at him for a moment, taking in his brown eyes before you place a gentle kiss on his lips. and another. and another. and one more until the soft pecks turn into a slow make out session.

you grind your hips up against miguel’s crotch, the friction causing him to break the kiss and breathe out a short moan. “feels good, huh?” you mumble with a small smile, bringing your lips back up to miguels. you continue to grind slowly, feeling miguel’s thick hands come up to your waist to slow you down. “g-gonna cum, wanna wait for you,” miguel gasps out, leaning his head back. you nod, and push him backwards on the bed. you watch from your place on miguel’s lap, observing him in all his good looks and disheveled demeanour. rose tinted cheeks, glasses sitting atop his strong arched nose, his pretty lip, his heaving supple chest, the small hickies you’ve left in a trail across his tan skin. “gorgeous,” you breathe aloud. miguel blushes, rubbing small circles into the sides of your hips with his hands, still sitting comfortably on the supple flesh.

you raise your hips up and reach under you, grabbing miguel’s stuff length, eliciting a sharp inhale from him through his teeth. still, you pay him no mind and align your entrance with him, and slowly begin to sink down, letting out an exhale of pleasure as your head slinks back. “s-so big,” you moan quietly.

“so tight,” miguel breathes out back to you in response. you bring your head back to down at him once he’s fully inside you, grabbing his hands from your hips to enter-twine with yours. when you’re ready, fully used to the intrusive in you, you begin to lift your hips and drop them back down, in a steady rhythm. “so good, fuck- makin’ me feel all hot inside,” you moan out, your hips coming down with more force. “gonna make me cum all over you.”

miguel goes red in the face, sputtering curses underneath his breath at your praises. your words of “too big, s’good baby, so fuckin’ good,” making his chest swell and groin tighten. “love how you do things for me, my sweet boy. you make me so happy, y’know that?”

your hips keep going up and down, building a strong but steady sound of slapping skin. your dorm fills up with heavy breaths, words of affirmation, and sweet moans of both you and miguel to coincide with the sounds of your love making.

love making.

your chest tightens a bit, and you keen over, your chest meeting with miguel’s chest. your hips falter, but you don’t rest for long when miguel plants his feet into the bed, wraps his arms around your back and begins to push his hips up into you at a rapid pace. you let out an ah!, feeling your orgasm building up in you rapidly. “fuck, keep fucking me like that, love when you’re rough with me, baby,” you pant out. you hear miguel whimper at your words, his thrusts not faltering when you feel the thin line of pleasure writhing you snap. you’re shaking in his bulging arms, mouth hanging open silently as miguel fucks you through climax.

holy fucking shit.

“ngh, gonna- gonna cum, baby,” miguel groans out, thrusting up into you and tightening his hold around you as well. your eyes roll back into your head as you feel yourself become full of miguel. at the end of miguel’s climax, you both lay there. you in his arms, and him under you. your ear at his chest, listening to his solid heartbeat. his nose, settled right above your head, breathing the scent of you in. the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, emotions tense in the room, but none either one of you can bare to address.

your eyes begin to get heavy, and you take the chance to say something you know you couldn’t bring yourself to say in any other moment, hoping that miguel is awake to hear it.

“thank you.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel atsv smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel atsv #sub miguel o'hara #you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3

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lovelykhaleesiii · 1 year ago

Text

Brains & Barbie!

PAIRING: Michael Gavey x fem!BIMBO!Reader

WORDS: 1,515.

SUMMARY: Polar opposites attract right? It’s science. Who knew you would fall so helplessly in love with the math geek of the century…

WARNINGS: female receiving (fingering), swearing, degradation kink, some praise kink, edging, cum play, p in v sexual intercourse, swearing.

A/N - it has been a hot minute since I wrote for an Ewan character, so forgive me I’m a little rusty.

this fic is dedicated to my soul sister @sahvlren as it was her bday recently, and she requested this specifically. I love you so very much, and am so thankful to have you as my dearest friend, boo. one day we shall meet, but for now we get freaky online! enjoy xoxox

+++ in light of the recent drama unfolding in this hellsite, I thought some good ole' smut would do no harm, right?

forgive me I shall edit this properly, but I must sleep for my night shift lol

You weren't exactly the perfect pair to exist, nor would any like minded person think it best to put you two together in a roo, let alone become intimate. And yet, so effortlessly you both meshed rather well...Michael, your "Norman No Mates" boyfriend [as he enjoyed putting it], was quite a mathematical genius. His family were somewhat stable and well off, however, he rejoiced in the idea that he worked his way into the academy, where as your situation was quite the opposite. Your father had attended Oxford and graduated, as did your grandfather, who also sponsored and funded many of its restorations and renovations. The ancient establishment owed many of its complexes to your family name, and hence, granted you a position in their literature field, warranted you did try to maintain your grades above a credit average, trimming it with a pass even...

You had tipsily stumbled upon Michael at some college party: he stood by some dark corner, a drink in hand and the other in his pocket, before you had ignorantly walked into him, mindless to your surroundings from intoxication. You had either gone to refill your drink or was seeking the bathroom [you struggle to remember the fine details of the night you had met], laughing obnoxiously at some joke your friend had uttered, before walking into the man that would ultimately make you weak in your knees.

"S-Sorry-" You softly slurred, spilling your drink on the floor, a droplet landing on your heel.

At first it sounded as though an apparent swear seemingly seethed between his curved lips, halting himself before cursing you further, as he adjusted his thin framed spectacles, marvelling at you.

"Y-You alright, love?"

The next thing you knew, you found yourself hot and heavy, heated bodies, grinding against one another, as Michael teased and etched his impressively long cock, at your silky folds. His mouth latched to your unmissable cleavage, as he suckled on your breasts like a new born babe to its mother's teat.

No man had ever made you feel more desired, and yet a fool at his beck and call. He uttered despicable taunts and jabs at you, whilst simultaneously, worshipping the ground you strut on.

"The sluttiest girl on campus just couldn't resist the cock of a geek, huh? Making her even more stupid than she is, look at you... Pathetic baby."

His words stung a compelling sensation, and yet you craved for more of his undivided attention. And seemingly, Michael granted you every fathomable bit he could muster. You were the girl beyond his dreams, needless to say, he never thought he even stood a chance with any girl, of that matter. And he as a man, beyond your tastes. However, the tension was palpable between you two, the chemistry undeniable.

You often found yourself unwittingly seeking his company, even risking your privilege in the confines of his dorm...

"How long left, Mikey. I'm s'bored!" You whinge, as you fidget and reposition yourself sprawled on your boyfriend's single-sized bed. Flinging your flip phone to the side, without a care for consequences [your parents would simply purchase a new one for you]. Despite being in somewhat sheerly covered attire, your ass cheeks just peaking through beneath your skirt, Michael barely felt the temptation to see [if he was even aware of your current outfit].

"Wait. Need to finish this equation."

His stern, unwavering voice and unfazed focus ontp the paper and textbooks before him, made your eyes roll with such annoyance, defeatedly sighing. The repetitive sound of his pencil thudding at his head, and your rhythmical humming, filled the silent void.

"Ugh- Michael, you should have just told me to not come- There was a party, I could have been at—"

"Do you not have an essay due by the end of the week?"

You contemplate for a few, solid seconds, before realising there was truth to his words. You did have an assignment due in the imminent days to come, and you had yet to begin.

"W-Well, yes... But I was hoping you would help me, handsome."

"Is that so?"

His attention still remained down, fixated on the text before him, yet his tone elevated, intrigue plaguing his words.

"I-I mean I'll still write it out, y-you just need to guide me—”

Swiftly he swivelled his entire body in the desk-top chair to turn unto you, a cheeky grin plastered across his chiselled face.

"Baby, you can barely do your times-tables, you think you can write an whole essay? Adorable..."

"But I sure know how to fuck you good. What man of your calibre can have a girl like me, say that to a man like you, huh?"

A darkness tinged in his piercing blue orbs, intently watching your every move and gesture, as he notices your hand hovering between your thighs, before disappearing beneath the short, skimpy skirt.

"Mhmm—"

Your thoughtless moans began to echo between the confined blank walls of the dorm, squirming against the neatly folded fabrics of the bed.

"And what do you think you're doing, exactly?"

Two digits continued to delve deeper between your folds, drawing slow, circular motions as your thumb remained rubbing at your clit. You had been biting your lips, only to release a moan, as you intended to respond obediently.

"M-My boyfriend's a bore, s-so I'm t-taking matters into m-my own h-hands—"

"Is that so?"

Without so much as a warning, a force pried your hands out from beneath your walls, your wetness coating your fingers and knuckles, glistening in the dim light. Within a few seconds, the emptiness between your legs vanished, as a rougher, more sizeable host embedded itself between your velvet folds.

With roughness, and vastly more pace, Michael's lengthy, slim digits began to etch deeper and deeper inside of you, pumping his fist in and out of you, as his other hand laid to rest against the mattress, propping him upright. Your hands immediately laid at your sides, firmly clenching the quilt between for some steadiness.

"Does my little slut have no patience? Brain to numb to think, she just wants to be fucked all the time, huh?"

"Y-Yes—"

Just as your ecstatic cries and moans grew more frequent, Michael's breathing sounded heavier, feeling your warm wetness making a mess all along his hands and the crevices of your entrance.

"This slut could've bent over to anyone. No-No, but she did for me, yeah? So needy for cock, she didn't even learn her times tables, huh?"

"I-I need you, M-Mikey—"

A third long digit shoved itself deeper into your tight hole, panting beneath your grip as you felt yourself fervently clench around him.

"That's right, princess. You need me. No man is worthy of this pretty cunt of yours, I earned it."

As you felt yourself progressively lose all your senses. gaining traction to the heat stirring below, Michael's sudden release felt cathartic. Watching him lick and lap every inch of your wetness lingering over his hand, made you feel delectable. Your lustful eyes searched below, for a fleeting second, you caught the growing commotion in his pants, as the bulge was evident, its shadow against the restricted fabric. As he tasted the last drop, a snarky smirk expanded across his handsome face, before beginning to unbelt and unbutton his beige trousers.

"C'mon princess, spread those legs like you always do, like you were born to do. Such a fucking whore, that's all you were meant for. Meant for me."

Aligning himself so effortlessly perfect against your, his reddened tip blushed against your sight, teasing your silky folds. His veins throbbed with excitement, almost palpable between your sensitive entrance, its length girth suddenly plunging itself ever so slowly inside of you.

With a first, rough shove, delving himself completely inside of you, his balls hitting at your rear, an escape of a low grunt vibrated against his lips, that remained hovering over your soft skin. Michael kept himself steadily propped atop of you: with each thrust, equally time and paced, his weight began to drop over you, applying the pressure down from above with his cock inside of you.

"The most perfect cunt, for the most perfect girl. And it's mine."

"M-Michael—"

"S-Stastically we a-are an anomaly, b-but my princess f-found me, like a good girl—”

“A-Anomaly?"

A deep, growling chuckle escaped his lips, his pace growing sloppier as he attempted to articulate: despite Michael having you weak in the knees in bed, he was still somewhat new at the act of sex. Struggling to juggle with the need to fuck and the need to explain, his lean, tall figure cowering over you, his eyes shut with ecstasy momentarily, before opening to glare and marvel at you breathlessly. Your lips latched onto his neck and collarbones in between your moans, intently sucking at his tender flesh, desperate to taste him, to leave remnants of your physical love, strewed across his body. Desperate to savour every inch of him.

"An odd couple, baby. B-But you take me so fucking well—"

"Mhmm—"

"There's no going back now, Princess..."

credit for divider - @/prettypixels-love

#michael gavey #ewan mitchell #michael gavey smut #michael gavey imagine #michael gavey imagines #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey fanfiction #saltburn #michael gavey x fem!reader #Michael Gavey x bimbo!reader #michael gavey x y/n

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lostintransist · 1 month ago

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Hell's Spawn | It Means Fuck Off

I wasn't planning on posting this yet but I need some feel good chemicals going in my brain before I give my professor the award for being the single most unhelpful teacher I have ever had in my entire life. Mans is actively making my life harder and not easier.

AO3

CW: Mommy issues, lots of negative self talk, general staring at women's bodies even though they just want to be left alone.

Trading shifts, what a simple way to alter the course of one’s life. Something akin to missing a train or a flight delay causing you to miss a connection, some exterior force course correcting you to where you need to be.

Leaning on one elbow on the stainless steel counter studying your text book you can feel your brain melting in your skull. Being a fourth-year medical student had taught you that while one could get a fever hot enough to “cook” the brain in the skull it wouldn’t occur from studying for too long. The voice of your mother itched in the back of your mind, telling you to give up and move on, you’ll never be more than a whore.

That had always been her favorite insult to hurl at you. Puberty hit you like a truck from a number of your favorite animes, transporting you into a woman-like body over the course of one summer. You still had the stretch marks.

Your mother hated it and hated you. She would never say that though. The high-powered pick-me lawyer could never let it be known that the only love she had in her soul had to be provided by the attention of a man. Psych 101 had been an enlightening class. You had nearly decided to go for a psychiatric residency before the chemistry classes debased that idea in your head.

When residency was over and you were settled somewhere you had decided to find a therapist to help you unpack all the shit that your mother had endowed you with. Her snide comments, wool-encased bricks lobbed at you from her high tower where she held both the power and the autonomy to keep you a prisoner, pelted you even now despite the years and distance between you.

The only escape you had found had been concurrent and AP classes in high school and a scholarship to finish your bachelor’s degree in one year directly out of high school and across the country. You worked your ass off for a few years to be old enough to never need her money again and passed the MCAT on the first try. The local medical school had accepted you at twenty-six, an old maid in that first class filled with nineteen and twenty-year-olds. That is how you had landed at a late-night cafe as a barista. You took as little student loans as possible and that meant working late and rising early for classes.

Coming full circle, you had traded shifts with the owner. Lucky bitch had five of the hottest boyfriends who were also boyfriends you had everseen and the bitch was ace. All that luck wasted on someone who didn’t ride their boyfriends until they whimpered night after night after night. God, you needed to get laid.

She had told you when you agreed to switch though that a group would be coming in to use the private room around midnight. She had warned you not to be alarmed but they would all be covered head to toe and would pay with cash. What she had failed to mention is that all four men who would appear at midnight, like wraiths wrapped in darkness, is that they were fucking jacked. They were ripped. To be frank you weren’t sure how any of them put shirts on or how the fabric didn’t rip like they were Bruce Banner turning green. Every one of them wore a surgical mask.

They all stepped to the counter, menacing vibes a miasma that eddied around them. Several patrons were scattered about the space, in quiet conversation or the clacking of keyboard keys, offering the illusion of safety. Aiming a well-trained smile any customer-facing worker would recognize at the men you greeted them.

“Hi welcome in, what can I get started for you?”

The tallest, broadest one, scanned the menu before glancing down. The demons in your mind began howling when instead of landing on your face his gaze landed firmly on the shadows of your cleavage peaking above the edge of your shirt. You had forgotten you had agreed to this shift until it was too late to change into the high-necked band tees you normally wore. The soundtrack of self-hate had always been easier to ignore if you could avoid drawing attention to your body.

“Four large black coffees, sugar and cream on the side.”

No please, no thank you. Fine, whatever wouldn’t be the last person tonight even that wouldn’t treat you with the same respect a wandering cat would receive.

“And you want all of those hot?” You tap away at the screen as you wait for his answer.

“Yes.” His voice should be much lower than it is, but it is still pleasant on the ear. The curl of his tongue around the words tells you English was not learned at his mother’s breast.

“Okay, your price is pulling up, this system slows down after midnight.” You roll your eyes at it, “If you give me a moment I can get that ready for you and let you into the room you have reserved.” You catch sight of the one with blue eyes that burn trailing those selfsame irises down one collarbone, to the bunching of skin, and then trailing back up to the other side.

The sniping words, whore, bitch, no good wench, nothing more than pussy, tits, and a mouth, fly through your mind, debris in the storm picking up speed. Grown and a world away her words still cut at you like glass.

Four hot coffees are settled on the counter as you count out change and return it to a leather-gloved hand. Did he have to buy specialty gloves to ensure that they fit?

The third man shifted his head toward you from behind his sunglasses before turning back to observe the room. A smudge of black hair peeked from below his hat.

Carrying the key along with several packets of sugar in your apron pocket and the carafe of creamer you can feel the fourth man’s eyes digging into your spine directly above your bra strap. No skin had been visible on him since the moment they entered the shop. That level of dedication impressed something in you.

You would have stayed impressed except the man couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Unlocking the door you stepped aside and let the men trail in, careful to keep your back to the wall by the premise of holding the door open with your foot. Once everyone found a seat you set the creamer on the table and turned to leave.

The completely covered one caught your wrist, fiddling with the ties of your bracelet. A friend had given it to you last Christmas when your mother had tried to reach out to ‘mend fences’. Turns out she was getting married again and her fiance wanted to meet the prodigal daughter.

The dainty silver beads pressed into your flesh as he dragged a thumb over them.

“What’s all this about? From a lover?”

The accent on his words tickles your senses. Then the understanding of his question settles home.

Customer service mode leaves your face and body, the bitch your mother always claimed you to be coming out.

“It reads fuck off,” you wrench your hand from his grip and slam the door shut behind you. When you settle back in the kitchen you fire off a text to your boss.

<Heads up, ended up snapping at one of your special customers.

Next, you fire off a message to Quinn, seeing if he could come in a half hour early so you didn’t have to close alone if the layered lechers stayed until closing.

Quinn confirmed he could be in early.

The parade from the conference room occurred as Quinn was arriving, leaving him to hold the door open for them as they passed. Closing duties went faster with Quinn collecting all the dishes for cleaning and you were home and in bed, books prepped for class in the morning on the table.

You woke a few hours later to a reply from your boss.

>Whatever you did they probably deserved it. You know I will back you 100%. But John says they seemed to like you better for snapping.

If you didn’t have to rush to avoid being late for your eleven am class you would have rolled your eyes. They liked being snapped at, that you were mean to them? Yeah, right.

Hell Masterlist | Masterlist

@demothers-empty-blog @beloveds-embrace (boo I hope you like your surprise.)

#poly kortac #cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #cod krueger #krueger x reader #nikto x reader #nikto call of duty #konig call of duty #konig x reader #horangi is here but he wants a woman to be nice to him

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callme-darling · 1 year ago

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soft, early morning sex with vincent

or; you’re awake before vincent for once and slowly wake him up in the way you know best

word count: 1.7k

warnings: fem reader, Horny, sleepy sex, grinding, reader wakes vincent up for sex, no prep, p-in-v, some fingering, it’s pretty soft stuff ngl

a/n: this was inspired by a dream i had and forever altered my brain chemistry

your eyes were still heavy with sleep, but your heart pounded steadily in your chest, your breath tense as if you had just run a short way. fleeting details of your waking dream still obscured the forefront recesses of your mind; the intimacy, the undeniable warmth and tenderness. you lay on your side, back towards the body occupying the other side of the bed. you shift carefully, mindful not to disturb the man still snoring softly beside you—the very man who, in your dreams, touched you with such devotion he was the reason you awoke nearly gasping for breath.

vincent looked peaceful, sleep one of the few stress-free experiences in his busy life. you smile softly to yourself, a soft hand brushing a strand of silver hair from where it had fallen over his brow. your gaze lingers over his features, the lines of his forehead less visible under the tranquility of sleep.

your heart, though calmer now, was still beating quickly in your ribcage, and the heat in your cheeks was becoming harder to ignore. your initial thought was to take a quick, cold shower. but the longer you looked at your lover, the more fierce these feelings grew, and the harder it became to deny them.

it was rare for you to wake before vincent, and even rarer for him to remain asleep after you stir awake. which, in your sleepy and lustful mind, called for the perfect wakeup plan.

it began with you placing warm, featherlike kisses on his cheek, the skin near his eye twitching minutely under the feeling. your lips diligently made their way from his face to the sensitive skin of his neck as your hands brushed over his shirt. the material bunched just above his navel, his skin soft as your fingers traced the faint ridges of his ribs.

then came the subdued moan from him. you stop your ministrations for a moment, bringing your face above his to study his rhythmic breathing. still asleep. your eyes flick back down to his neck, to where the collar of his tshirt exposed the top of his chest. with quiet determination, you sat up softly, allowing the duvet to fall from your shoulders.

the heat in your core was becoming near unbearable, and you were growing desperate to feel the hands of your dream on you in this life.

pushing the duvet down to his thighs, you were quick to replace the initial morning chill with your own warmth, hips ghosting over his until you gently rock them against his waist, stifling a faint moan with your lips pressed to the side of his throat. your hands were against his chest now, pushing his shirt up even further to expose his pale skin. your nails traced along his abdomen as your hips continued to slowly rock over his.

warm breath fanned across his neck with each whiny pant you let out, your shaky moans increasing in volume as you felt his half hard cock twitch under you, his hips shuddering to meet yours.

you bring your right hand to the side of his head to stabilize yourself. your eyes half lidded, you watched his face contort as his eyes fluttered gently, his teeth biting softly unto the plush of his bottom lip. the sight alone enough to have you leaning in to brush your lips over his, soft kisses quickly developing into a voyeuristic display of needy lips and even needier moans as vincent became more awake and aware of the current state of his darling girlfriend’s desperation.

his voice was thick with sleep, his accent barely intelligible, “good morning to you too, love- oh-“

you nearly whimper as you watch his eyes just barely roll back with a firm brush of your hips. his palms were warm against you as he gripped your waist, his fingers tickling the skin under your shirt.

“sorry..” you mumble, voice airy, “just needed you.” though, the way your hips moved over his seemed anything but remorseful.

the back of his head pressed into the pillow as his grip on your hips tightened, seemingly reigning in some control over your ministrations. you leaned down to trail wet kisses down his throat to his chest. he swallowed thickly, “fuck- …you look so good baby.”

your voice was tense, your panties becoming painfully uncomfortable, “please, please, can you fuck me?” you knew you sounded pitiful, but the ache in your core demanded some sort of relief.

a warm hand on your throat brought your mouth down to his, your lips soft and plaint as his tongue brushed against yours, drawing out a wanton moan from you. “how could i deny you, darling.”

you felt his hand dip under the waistband of your panties, groaning as his fingers explore just how wet you were able to make yourself. “what got you so worked up, hm?” you couldn’t tell if there was a teasing bite to his words, but the small smile on his face told you it was at least partial genuine curiosity.

you let yourself grind into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as soft, wet clicks filled the room. your breath trembled, your hands splayed on his abdomen to keep you upright, “h-had a dream.. ‘bout you.”

his fingers worked expertly toying with your puffy clit as his sleepy eyes glimmered with want. “oh? about me… and what was i doing in this dream?”

“vincent, please- please i need you-“

“and you’ll have me, dear. but i want to know more about your dream first.” he chuckled softly, “there’s no rush today, let’s enjoy this.”

when you didn’t answer for a few moments, vincent merely groaned. he pulled his hand away from your core and pushed you onto your back. the mattress bounced softly under your transferred weight, with him now kneeling over you.

“tell me, what was i doing in this dream of yours to get you so riled up?” he spoke quietly, his blue eyes fixed on yours. his hand pushed his hair away from his face before ghosting over your stomach as he waited for an answer.

you sucked in a silent breath. “you were touching me, telling me how you loved me..”

“and..?”

oh, you hated how your core clenched at his smile, the grin bordering on teasing. his other hand came to brush as strand of your hair from your cheek as he leaned in closer.

“i know it wasn’t real, but it felt so good-“ you rambled with a hushed whisper, “fuck… and then you looked so good when i woke up..”

at that, he smiled down at you, planting a kiss on your temple, “who knew you could be made so needy from a simple dream.”

in keeping with his promise, vincent began to slide your panties down your thighs, a string of your translucent slick snapping against the soft skin of your thighs as he pulled the material away. you felt your cheeks grow warmer at the sight of your nearly soaked-through panties being discarded on the floor, eyes searching for vincent’s only to find his fixed on your weeping pussy.

“shit, you’re s’fucking wet..” his voice was low, and you caught how his dick twitched, hard in his pants.

you felt like you could pass out if he didn’t touch you. your head fell back, eyes big and pleading up at him. “please, i’m ready. don’t need prep—please-“

vincent hesitated a moment, gentle eyes peering into you. “…you sure?”

“yes, yes please.” you nod enthusiastically. “i need to feel you.”

he still seemed to have his reservations, but hearing you beg so readily for him had him groaning under his breath. and who was he to deny you, his pretty girl?

you could barely contain your excitement as he undid the drawstring of his sweatpants, pushing the waistband down far enough to have his cock slap against his lower stomach. your eyes were fixated as his hand stroked it, the tip leaking a bead of precum down the shaft, blushed a pretty pink.

a finger under your chin pulled your gaze back up to his face where a playful smirk had your cheeks flushed. “tell me if it’s too much.” even in such intimate moments, vincent never failed to put you first, and it made your heart race even more.

when you finally felt his tip line up with your entrance, you felt yourself tense up in anticipation. his lips were warm on your neck, “relax ma cherie… yes..” he groaned as he began to slowly sink into your heat, “just like that, fuck-“

your head fell back, eyes rolling as a breathless whine tumbled from your lips. it felt good, so fucking good. the way he was stretching you out on his long cock could make you lose your mind. you turned your head to the side, eyes fluttering as he shallowly thrusted into you.

“so tight, love, so fuckin’ tight..” he cursed under his breath, voice thick with lust.

you couldn’t respond, not with the way your needy pussy was finally being used like you needed. your hands found vincent’s shoulders, nails digging pretty crescents into his skin as he picked up his pace, fucking into you as your cunt squelched loudly with each thrust.

“you’re so pretty like this, so pretty and all for me.”

your knees were on either side of his hips, feet dangling in the air as you felt your mind go blank, a stream of whiny moans punctuated with every full thrust into your core.

you were so worked up and so close to the release you needed, and vincent’s skilled fingers playing with your clit again was the final push. your mouth fell open, eyes screwed shut as you felt yourself come hard around his cock.

“that’s it, fuck, you feel so good-“ your pussy clenched around his dick like a vice, his head falling to your shoulder as he came inside you, panting as his dick still throbbed in your core.

when you both finally regained your composure, you bring yourself to look at him only to find him wearing a lovesick grin on his face. he leans down, planting a sweet kiss to your lips before whispering, “good morning, my love.”

#♱₊˚✧ filth .#swann arlaud #anatomy of a fall #vincent renzi #anatomie d'une chute #anatomy of a fall vincent

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joudeq · 3 days ago

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kento x reader

~ cornball

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modern au : nerd!nanami x reader

tags : fluff / AWFUL jokes / hes a silly nerd / TW: exams / modern au / jjk / kento x reader (not gender specific) / oneshot

a/n : just a short nanami drabble bc i love him hes such a stupid loser

context : hes your nerdy roommate and you're both studying for upcoming finals, you find yourself overwhelmed with the workload and he tries cheering you up

ALSO 8 followers i love u guys

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The low hum of your desk lamp filled the otherwise quiet room. The exam was just a couple of days away, and the tension was eating away at you. You had been studying for hours, your brain already tired of trying to memorize everything. Each sentence on the page started to blur together, and you found yourself thinking more about how much you wanted a break than the material in front of you.

Nanami, on the other hand, was the picture of composure. He sat across the room, as usual, his posture straight and his focus unwavering. You could hear the sound of his pen scratching across the paper, making meticulous notes in the margins of his textbook.

You tried to focus on your own work, but it was useless. Your mind kept wandering. Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You let out an exasperated sigh, slumping down in your chair.

"I'm going to fail," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes in frustration. "I can't do this. There's s no way."

He glanced up from his work, his usual calm and composed expression softened by a hint of concern. "You're fine," he said gently. "You've been studying for weeks. You'll be ready."

You groaned again, feeling the weight of your anxiety pressing down on you. "It just doesn't feel like enough. I can't focus. My brain is mush after digesting that much chemistry at once!"

He set his textbook aside and stood up slowly, walking toward you. He was always so composed, like the world was always under control. But tonight, something about the way he looked at you made him seem a little unsure, even bashful.

"I think you need a break," Nanami said, his voice unusually soft. "Maybe... maybe I could tell you a joke? That might help, right?"

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was serious. Nanami? Kento Nanami? Telling a joke? You could never imagine him doing such a thing. His usual serious, no-nonsense demeanor didn't exactly scream 'comedian.'

"You?" you asked, almost teasing. "You want to tell me a joke?"

He shifted awkwardly, his face turning a faint pink, and you could tell that this was definitely not his comfort zone. "Well, I thought It might make you feel better?"

You sat up straighter in your chair, genuinely curious now. You didn't expect your roommate to go for something like this. "Alright, I'm all ears," you said with a genuine smile, even though it was a little teasing.

Nanami cleared his throat, straightening up and pushing up his glasses as though he were about to deliver some profound piece of wisdom. There was a nervous energy about him, and you could see the awkwardness in the way he held his hands at his sides. "Okay, here goes. It's a simple one, don't get your hopes up." he muttered.

You waited expectantly, trying to hold back a smile.

"Why don't skeletons fight each other?" he asked, the serious tone in his voice making it sound like this was a big deal.

You blinked at him, confused but intrigued. "Uh,why?"

And without missing a beat, Nanami hesitated for just a moment, then nervously blurted out:

"Because they don't have the guts."

....

A long silence followed. Nanami's gaze flickered to the floor, looking extremely uncomfortable as he waited for a response. You froze for a moment, processing the full weight of the corny joke. You stared at him, and he was just standing there, his cheeks lightly flushed, clearly waiting for you to either laugh or tell him how terrible it was.

You couldn't t help it. The awkwardness of it all was too much. You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach as you practically collapsed onto the desk.

"Oh my god, Nanami," you gasped between giggles. "That was...That was so bad!"

Nanami's face turned a deep red, and he immediately looked away, a little embarrassed. "I thought it might help - you know, make you smile," he stammered, scratching the back of his neck. "It was a good joke, right? I mean - it's classic humor," he looked at you then, his eyes sparkling as if he was seeking your approval, a small smile curling the corners of his lips as he watched you laugh.

You wiped away a tear from the corner of your eye, still chuckling. "It was so bad that it was hilarious. I'm literally dying here."

Nanami shuffled awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond. He had always been so calm, so serious, but seeing him this flustered made him even more endearing. He cleared his throat again, still trying to regain his usual cool. "It was just a joke," he muttered, his hands still slightly trembling. "I thought I'd lighten the mood."

You straightened up, finally able to control your laughter, and gave him a softer smile. "You definitely lightened the mood. In a very unique way."

He rubbed the back of his neck, still flushed but also looking a bit relieved that you weren't somehow upset. "I shall try harder next time. Maybe I'll work on my material."

You smiled at him, feeling your nerves ease a little. "Nah, you're good. You've definitely earned a break for the night. But next time, maybe leave the dad jokes for another day, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, a little embarrassed but also clearly pleased to have made you laugh, even if in the most awkward way possible. "I'll take your criticism as a compliment."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you, It was the way he had stepped out of his comfort zone just to make you feel better, to bring some levity into your stressful night.

Suddenly, the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease, and you realized that for the first time tonight, you were genuinely at ease. Nanami had managed to make you forget about the looming exam, if only for a moment. And in that moment, everything else felt a little less important.

You paused for a moment, looking at him with a soft smile. The warmth in his expression was enough to make your heart flutter, and without thinking, you stepped forward and gently kissed his cheek, your lips lingering for just a second.

Nanami froze for a moment, his face going beet red. "W-What was that for?" he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

You smiled at him, feeling a rush of affection as you took a step back. "For making me laugh," you said softly, your eyes lingering on his flustered face. "You're a good guy, Nanami."

He blinked, still processing the kiss, and you could see the tips of his ears turning red. "Oh, um.. thank you," he mumbled, his usual stoic nature failing him for a moment.

The awkward tension in the air was gone, replaced with the comfortable silence between you two. You both knew that the exam was still there, looming over your heads, but for a little while, it didn't matter.

Well, not until you opened the exam paper in front of you the next day.

Sheesh, you seriously should've studied for this.

#jujutsu kaisen #fluff #idk what else to tag #jjk fluff #nanami kento #nanami #nanami x reader #ha ha funny #modern au #jujutsu nanami #ok byeee

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