#and felt the need to tell me what’s what | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harmonyrae · 3 days ago

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Merging Territories

Synopsis: You just need a little more time with him, you don’t want him to go. Sylus once said actions are more sincere. It’s time to act, no more games.

AN: This is my interpretation of Sylus’s Night of Secrecy memory.

Content Warnings: Fingering, oral (f receiving), handjob, praise kink, implied unprotected sex, PiV, squirting, cream pie, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.6k

“I won.”

You couldn’t hide your smirk as you slid the final part into place on the gun. You shift on the carpet and turn to face Sylus, pressing the muzzle under Sylus’s chin. His eyes narrow and raises his hands in defeat. He lets out a breathy chuckle, tilting his chin to look at you.

“And I lost. Go ahead. Ask your question.”

You’re suddenly aware of how warm the room is. The fireplace crackles and pops, providing the only light in the large sitting room. Sylus’s features are shrouded in shadow, his skin looks warm and soft. You weren’t exactly sure what you wanted to do, you just wanted to spend more time with him. You weren’t ready for him to go. Just a little more time.

As you stare into Sylus’s eyes, you feel your stomach tighten. You decided to trust your instincts, not entirely sure if it was a good idea or not. You lower the gun, check the safety is on and place it on the floor before locking eyes with him again.

“I’m sleepy.”

“Uh…”

His confusion mirrors your own. You felt your cheeks burn and you hope he can’t tell in the low lighting. The past few months have flown by, you remember meeting Sylus and how much you initially hated him. But over time, you’d seen a side of him that made your heart pound and butterflies flutter in your stomach. You knew what you wanted. Sylus’s words echo in your mind.

I believe sincerity is not having to beat around the bush or play any games.

You had played your game and now, you felt guilty. You swallow your anxiety and square your shoulders.

“Can you… tuck me in?”

Sylus raises a brow and leans forward. His eyes scan your face, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“I thought a certain relentless hunter would ask about my destination.”

You cross your arms and pout dramatically.

“I care more about the present than an answer I can’t get. So… Are you doing it or not?”

“Of course, kitten.”

That damn smirk is back and you can’t stop staring at his mouth. He stands before leaning down to pick you up. You wrap your arms around his neck as he tucks an arm under your legs. He swiftly picks up your heels, which were discarded next to the couch. He looks down at you as he makes his way out of the sitting room and towards the stairs.

“This request is way more powerful than that little gun.”

You feel your heart pounding in your chest, your brain feels fuzzy. You try to keep your hands still and not give in to the temptation to drag your hand down his exposed chest. He had undone his tie and unbuttoned his shirt shortly after getting home, intending to change but you challenged him to your little game. It was like you were being punished for messing with him. He had just sat there, his torso on display for you.

You kept your eyes on his face, trying to ignore the delicious firmness of his abdomen against your hip. He looks down at you, his eyes look… gentle? The smirk from downstairs was gone, replaced with a soft smile. You hear a clatter and glance over his shoulder to see your shoes discarded on the floor. His arm circling around your waist, his hand resting on your hip.

He enters the bedroom and strides to the couch next to the window. The snow was building up rather quickly, a thin sheet of white covering the lawn outside. He stops at the couch and waits for you to let go so he can set you down. But that all too familiar twinge of panic settles over you, keep him close. “If you don’t want to lie down, I can keep holding you until I leave.”

Another memory flashes in your mind. The small yurt in the grasslands, the bed you shared with him, his strong arms wrapped around you keeping you warm.

Sincerity really is the best.

“What if I don’t want you to leave…?”

Sylus holds your gaze. You move your hand slowly and rest your palm against the side of his neck. His heart beat is rapid and his skin feels warmer than before.

“Then.. we better make the most of our time before dawn.”

He leans down, forcing you to set your feet on the floor. He stands before you, you barely realize your hand is still resting on his chest. God, you want this. You don’t want to lose your nerve.

You push him down onto the couch, he grunts, a brief expression of surprise gracing his face. You settle your knee between his legs. You press your hand against his chest again, your fingers itching to explore. He tilts his head forward and looks at you, his eyes urging you to continue.

Actions do speak louder than words. And more sincere.

He’s right. You’ve tried to find the right words for the past three days and they always get lost between your brain and your mouth. It’s time to stop thinking so damn much.

You caress his face, slipping your hand behind his neck. His reaction to your touch tells you everything you need to know. His shaky breath and the corner of his mouth curling upwards - his excitement palpable. You pull him to you and the moment your lips touch, your mind clears. His kiss is exactly like you imagined it to be. The kiss is needy and rapid, he moves like he is intoxicated. You wrap your arm around his neck, feeling his chest graze yours sets your skin ablaze again.

You bring your other knee down and straddle his leg, inching yourself closer to him. He places a hand on the back of your thigh and pulls you to him. Your bodies collide, your knee finally presses against his groin and your breath catches. He was so fucking hard. His hand trails up to your ass and he holds you close.

He pulls back for only a moment, his breathing unsteady and his eyes hazy.

“You really don’t want me to leave?”

He leans forward once again to capture your lips. His hands start to explore your back, his fingers sending chills over your exposed skin. You roll your hips, desperate for more. He moans into your mouth, his tongue finally tracing your lips requesting entrance - you immediately oblige. His hands drift down to your waist and he lifts you, allowing you to shift and properly straddle him.

You hold his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself, but your thighs are already burning and you just want to sit down. But if you do that, he will undoubtedly feel how wet you are. Your panties soaked and your lace shorts wouldn’t serve as much of a barrier. You needed to change positions, you wanted to feel his body on top of you. You mumble into his mouth, your words lost amongst the messy kisses. Sylus opens his eyes and meets yours.

“Sylus, over there…”

Your head tilts towards the bed. He tucks his hands under your ass and lifts you up, your legs wrapping around him in an instant. His leg hits the bed and he sinks his knee into the mattress, slowly lowering you down onto your back, his lips never leaving yours.

As you settle on the bed, he pulls back to look at you. His cheeks flushed and his lips puffy. You reach up to lock your fingers behind his neck to pull him down. He holds back and that smug smile returns. His fingers caress your cheek and for a moment it’s like you are meeting him for the first time. But instead of cowering, you are holding on for dear life, never wanting to let go.

“Looks like we’re on the same page when it comes to not wanting to waste time.”

You try to control your breathing, but staring at him doesn’t help. You try to look away, but his hand catches your chin. He takes hold of your face, keeping you in place.

“Stay focused, kitten.”

He covers your eyes with his other hand.

“Don’t look.”

With your eyes covered, your other senses buzz to life. He starts kissing you again, his open mouth kisses leaving you even more breathless. He lets his tongue dip out and trace your lips before placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You finally allow yourself to moan, softly at first to test the waters. You feel his hips lower and he grinds against you. His response was more than you could have hoped for. Just the thought of him being so turned on by the sounds you make is almost enough to send you over the edge.

All you can hear are your combined breathy moans and the pounding of your heart in your ears. He glides his hand down your arm and threads his fingers with yours. His thumb gently rubbing your palm.

When he finally removes his hand from over your eyes, you want to giggle at his love drunk expression. You’re not even sure he can still see you through the haze. You reach up and touch his cheek, his warmth seeping into your fingertips.

“Am I being too greedy… if I ask you to keep your eyes only on me?”

As you pull away, he grabs your hand.

“You always had that right.”

He places a chaste kiss on your wrist.

“Which means…”

He leans down and places kisses along your neck and collarbone. You feel his lips drag across your skin and you clench your fists, grabbing a fistful of the comforter beneath you. Your moans are much louder now. His lips are so soft, and every time they make contact you feel your clit throb.

“You can be even greedier.”

He hovers just over your breast, he lets his lips press down gently, kissing your nipple through your top. You feel a burst of pleasure. You wanted nothing more than for his lips to explore every inch of your body.

He rises, reaching down to lift your leg beside him. His hand strokes your thigh before he bends to place a kiss on your knee. When his eyes meet yours again, the intensity behind his gaze overwhelms your senses.

“Do you want it, kitten?”

You take a moment and let your eyes roam. His silver necklace dangles from his neck, sweat has started to drip down his chest, his abs look tight - like he is tensing, awaiting your answer. And then you see how his pants have become much too tight, his erection threatening to break through the confines at any moment. There was only one answer to his question and you didn’t have to think.

“Yes.”

His smile vanishes as he leans in, hungry for more. The answer is yes, but you didn’t want him to think you could be tossed around like a ragdoll. Well, you wouldn’t mind that, but you didn’t want to feel powerless. You know what you like and what you want him to do to you. And what you want to do to him.

You reach your hand up and place it firmly against his chest stopping him in his tracks. He grunts, his brows knit together and his eyes light up with panic. He regains his composure and slowly lowers his hand under your knee, pulling you downwards. You feel your tits bounce at the sudden movement.

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

He bends your knee once more, bringing your thigh up to his mouth. He kisses your inner thigh right by your knee. The thought of his kisses trailing down your thigh until he sinks his face into your soaked pussy…

“You just said ‘yes’?”

His voice is needy and broken with his gasps for air.

“I’m hoping yes is still your answer because…”

He releases your thigh and slowly lowers himself on top of you. Your thighs spread open and he presses his erection against your center. He lowers to his elbows, tucks a hand under your waist and holds your face with the other.

“I just can’t hold back anymore.”

He traces your lips with his thumb before diving back in. His kisses seem more desperate now, he doesn’t wait for either of you to catch your breath. He nips at your lower lip and his intensity grows with every shift of your hips or moan echoing from your throat.

You start to feel dizzy. And not the fun kind of dizzy, the “I might pass out” kind.

“Sylus… I can’t breathe…”

You finally push Sylus away and try to catch your breath. You feel a strand of hair fall against your forehead, you try to blow it away, but it stays put. Sylus brushes it aside, tucking it behind your ear.

He holds your chin, forcing you to look at him. He looks down at you and, while you’re completely clothed, you feel exposed. He can feel your body shiver, your nipples hard and needy beneath your blouse. He’s reading you like a book. He nuzzles his face into your neck. He sinks his teeth into the tender flesh above your collarbone. He’s fucking biting you. And god, it felt incredible. You can’t suppress a moan, but quickly clear your throat and try to be angry.

“Hey, no biting here.”

He sighs.

“First you want it rough, now you want it soft… You’re a tough one to please tonight, kitten.”

He slides a hand behind your neck and soothes the sensitive skin with tender kisses. He pulls back, lifting his chest away from yours and looks down at you, his eyes glowing in the dim light.

“What do you really want? Won’t you be honest and tell me like you just did?”

You let your hands glide down his chest, digging your nails in as you pass over his nipples and down to his abs. You feel him shudder, here’s your chance.

“... I’m not falling for your tricks.”

You push his shoulder hard, he tips and you hook your leg, rolling him over. The change in positions allows you to finally take a deep breath. You plant your hands on his chest as you take in his shocked expression. You rarely catch him off guard, it’s a treat really.

“I told you that a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”

His eyes narrow and he nods slowly. His hands wrap around your waist and he traces the zipper of your top. He tugs gently at the zipper tab, just enough to send the message.

“So, you want control.” His voice was raspy and so damn sexy.

Your new position was supposed to help you get more air, but with Sylus fiddling with your top, your chest heaves. You close your eyes and run your hands down his chest again, feeling the goosebumps rise across his skin under your fingertips.

“Unfortunately, I can’t give it to you. Not yet, at least.”

He finally pulls the tab further down, the buzz of the teeth separating fills the room. Your top loosens and you feel his hand press against your newly exposed skin. He hesitates, giving you a moment to stop him. Instead, you pull the straps down and pull your top away, tossing it to the floor behind you.

His hands slide up your back unhindered before gliding his hand around to cup your breast. The feeling of his palm on the underside of your tit makes you shiver. His thumb flicks over your nipple and you moan, throwing your head back.

Your body is on fire as his hands explore your breasts, squeezing and tugging until you grab his wrists. He tucks his hands under your ass and lifts you, he sits up against the headboard. He wraps an arm around your waist while his other hand squeezes your breast, lifting it to his mouth. He rolls his tongue over the hardened peak before closing his lips around it. He holds your nipple between his teeth, not biting, but the pressure is enough to make you rock your hips against him.

He releases your breast, his mouth moving to the other as he sinks his hand down the back of your shorts. He squeezes your ass while he suckles your breast, he’s painfully slow in his movements.

You try to lean back, the teasing becoming torturous.

“... Don’t run.”

“You’re… so annoying…” Your voice barely above a whisper.

“I won’t deny it. I guess you can say I lied. Tonight, you’re not the only one feeling greedy…”

He picks you up, his hands under your thighs and you reach around his neck instinctively. He leans forward quickly and your back meets the bed again. His head dips down and he places kisses down your chest, kissing each nipple before continuing down your stomach.

“And I won’t be leaving until this greed is completely satisfied.”

He reaches the waistband of your shorts and traces it with his finger. He hesitates. “Ah, I misspoke.”

You look down at him and watch him crawl over you until you’re face-to-face.

“What…?”

He stares into your eyes, lifting a hand to gently hold your cheek.

“Greed can never be satisfied…”

He picks up your hand and places it against his chest. You feel his rapid heart beat.

“But you can temporarily soothe it.”

His voice is calm, but the storm behind his eyes tugs at your heartstrings. He needs to know that you want him as much as he wants you.

“Say it again. Do you want it?”

You run your fingers through his damp hair. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch. You reach up and lock your fingers behind his neck, pulling him to you. You kiss him sweetly. He lets out a breath, as if he’d been holding it this whole time. You press your forehead to his.

“This is my answer.”

Sylus doesn’t hesitate to capture your lips once more. His hands move urgently to knead your breasts. You grab hold of his shirt and push it over his shoulders, he tugs the shirt loose and tosses it aside. Your hands explore his body, the definition of his abs, the curve of his chest, the deep V leading to the waistband of his pants.

He hooks his fingers and tugs your shorts and underwear down in one motion. The sudden burst of air against your core makes you moan loudly. You felt his fingers slide across your pussy, stopping at your clit to pinch and tug. You arch your back off the bed and cry out.

“Sy…!”

You hear a deep chuckle as the bed dips and you feel your legs being pushed apart. You look down in time to see his face dig into you. His nose rubs against your clit while his tongue presses into your entrance. He works slowly, reveling in your body reacting to every flick of his tongue.

He shifts his mouth and sucks in your clit. You feel your hips twitch and you grind against his face. A deep moan of approval vibrates against your clit and your hands fly down to grip Sylus’s hair. Your tugs only earn you more groans and vibrations leaving you shaking. His finger circles your entrance and you buck your hips again.

“Sylus fuck…!”

You can feel him smile against your pussy. He wastes no time and presses in two fingers until his palm is flat against you. He curls them slowly and he strokes a spot that makes you see stars almost immediately.

You’re shamelessly riding his hand now, your hips bucking every time he hits that spot. You feel tears pool and spill over. Your orgasm builds rapidly. You tug on Sylus’s hair once more, harder this time. He groans and pulls back just enough, his words muffled.

“Come for me, beautiful.”

You hold your breath, calling on your remaining willpower to make this request.

“No, Sylus… I want… I need –”

His movements slow and he lifts his head to look at you, his fingers still pumping in and out slowly. You wiggle your hips away from his agile fingers, but Sylus grabs your hip, pressing you into the mattress to keep you still.

“Tell me what you desire.” His voice is smooth as silk.

“I want you… inside me... Please Sylus...”

Sylus smiles, your arousal coats his chin and he licks his lips savoring your taste. He leans down to kiss you, slowly and purposefully. You taste yourself and whimper. He removes his fingers and runs his hands up your thighs.

“So direct.”

He reaches down to pull at his belt. You reach down to help him and he chuckles, placing his hand back on the bed to let you handle it. He rests his forehead against yours.

“I’ll give you anything you want, sweetie. Everything I have is yours.”

You unbutton his pants and slide down the zipper, your hands shaking as your mind reels from his words. You meet his gaze as your hand slides down the front of his boxers. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock and firmly drift your hand up and down. His mouth falls open and he gasps quietly.

“All I want is you.”

You feel lighter, like this secret you’d been keeping was weighing you down. And for what? You had finally let your guard down, you didn’t need it when you were with him. Not anymore. He was what you wanted, he made you feel safe, seen, beautiful, happy.

Hearing your words stirred something in him. He looks down at you, his eyes glistening. The smile on his face is radiant and you trace it with your thumb, wanting to always remember this moment.

He pulls your hand from his boxers before standing briefly to remove his pants and boxers completely. How he felt didn’t do him justice, he was going to fill you and then some. He chuckles, he must have seen your eyes widen. He crawls back onto the bed and hovers over you, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“Don’t be afraid, kitten. I have you. I won’t hurt you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down, his chest presses against you and you sigh at how perfect his skin feels against yours. One of his hands dips down and starts tracing languid circles around your clit. You kiss him hard, feeling his presence everywhere.

He rolls you over to your side and guides your leg over his hip. His arm under you wrapping around your shoulder to keep you close. You hold his cheek before raking your fingers through his hair.

You finally feel the head of his cock press against your entrance and you shudder. He reaches down, angles himself and then tucks his hand under your knee, lifting your leg higher. He starts to press into you and you have to break the kiss to groan in response. He takes his time, letting you adjust and stretch. He waits for you to push your hips forward, begging for more of him, before he continues. You grab a fistful of his hair and dig your nails into his back.

“Are you ready? Tell me…”

His muffled words bring you back. You let out a breathy laugh and bury your face in his neck.

“Yes, Sy… all of you.”

He bucks his hips one last time and buries himself fully. You scream his name, completely overwhelmed. He strokes your hip and cradles your head. He kisses you slowly as he pulls out and rams back into you. You moan into his mouth, incoherent words tumble from your lips.

“You’re so… perfect, so… so beautiful…”

His words are broken, his pace quickening with every syllable. You start to match his movements, feeling him deeper and deeper with every thrust. He rolls you on your back once more and you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your heels. His lips trail down your neck to your chest, his pace never faltering.

“Feels so – ngh – you feel so good Sy… oh god…”

His moans start to sound like whimpers as he takes in your praises. You want to hear him and feel him and hold him, always. Your muscles clench and you feel the pressure building, Sylus can feel it too, your walls fluttering around him bringing him close to the brink as well. He starts to thrust faster, his hands finding your breasts again to pinch and tug at your swollen nipples.

Your thighs burn from how tightly you’re holding onto him and pulling yourself upwards. Every nerve is on fire and your lungs burn with how hard you are breathing. His pace starts to become erratic, his hips stuttering.

“Come for me, Sy. Come in me…”

He holds his breath, trying to slow down and hold off, but you’re not letting him. You realize he wanted control, but really he never had it. Not completely. His pleasure is directly linked to your own. And he wants to give you everything you desire. Right now, all you desire is feeling his release deep inside you. He’s already made his way into your heart and now…

That’s when it hits you. You place kisses along his jaw and down his neck. You sink your teeth into his skin and the way he moans your name sends you right over the edge. You release his neck and throw your head back, chanting his name louder and louder. Your climax gushes across his abdomen and thighs, soaking the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck fuck fuck…”

Sylus tries to continue his movements, but once he sees the intensity of your release he can’t hold back. You feel the warmth of his cum and nearly cry out with how full you feel. His cock buried deep inside you, his cum filling you to the brim, his voice singing your name, his lips peppering your face and neck with open mouth kisses.

He slowly pulls out and you unhook your legs, you fall to the bed and your legs tremble. Sylus rubs your hips, massaging them carefully. Your breathing steadies and you force your eyes open. Sylus hovers above you, he looks at you with so much admiration and joy, his hair slicked back with sweat, his neck bearing the mark you left. You reach up to hold his face, stroking his cheeks softly.

“My beloved…” You whisper.

Sylus collapses on top of you, burying his face in your neck, smothering you with a thousand kisses. You wrap your arms around him and hold him close. You’ve never felt so at peace.

You desperately want more, but your mind is drifting. Sylus senses your exhaustion, he rolls off of you, sits up to grab the blanket from the bottom of the bed, covers you both and drapes an arm over your waist. You roll on your side and lean back, letting him pull you to him until your back is flat against his chest. You lift your head and Sylus slips his arm under, letting you use his arm as a pillow. You let out a deep contented sigh.

With Sylus holding you close, his steady breaths fanning your ear, his heart beat putting you at ease, it doesn’t take long for you to fall into a dreamless sleep. You wonder if you’ll ever dream again? What’s left to dream of? You have everything you could possibly dream of right here.

AN (part 2): I want to note a few things real quick. Even with their dialogue about control, I feel like it was less about who dominates and more about love making. I also FIRMLY believe MC has a TON of control. In my opinion, Sylus enjoys dominance in the act, but not necessarily in the relationship. He will do anything she desires. Thank you for reading!! :)

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22

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mochiwonz · 3 days ago

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─── LOVE ME HARDER ୨୧

PAIRING. fem!reader x bf!park sunghoon CONTENT. smut , petnames , p in v , unprotected sex (don't do it !!) , cursing , grinding , skinship (duh ;3) , slight breast and nipple play , big dick hoon agenda , some dirty talk , fluff , hoon is so sweet and compliant </3 NOTE. i'm back :3 and this is my new years gift for u all, enjoy !!

you and sunghoon loved being close to one another. your guy's favorite was simply cuddling, it just felt so intimate, so raw. well, it really was the most intimate you and sunghoon had ever gotten— if you don't consider make-out sessions.

it's not that you didn't want to have sex with him, of course you did. you just weren't sure how to approach it, how you'd express the want to get fucked by him. and yeah, you'd thought about it before. you'd thought about how he'd ruin you, how his abs would flex while he'd thrust into you, god— you needed him so bad.

and unbeknownst to you, sunghoon felt the exact same, if not worse. he ached for you, to be inside of you. he dreamt about how your pussy would feel around him. wet, tight and warm, all for him. he'd been suppressing his need to fuck for awhile, and it'd just got to a point where he couldn't suppress it any longer. first, he tried jerking off with your panties— and it worked... for two days. then, he tried using a fleshlight. that also didn't work. he thought he was doomed, he didn't want to force himself on you. sunghoon was just unsure if you wanted him like that, yet.

tonight was like any other night, you two came home from work, ate dinner, got ready for bed, and found your way into each other's embrace. in the form of cuddling, of course.

you were wearing your favorite silk pajamas tonight. a long sleeve top and tiny shorts, slightly see-through. sunghoon tried his best to keep himself from ogling at you, you looked so fucking sexy. thankfully, he did a good job because you definitely didn't notice.

"you smell so good, my love" sunghoon says sweetly while nuzzling his face into your hair.

"thank you hoonie, used the conditioner and shampoo set you bought me" you tell him while shifting your body to find a comfortable position.

unfortunately for sunghoon, this caused your ass to rub against his crotch, and fuck. it felt good.

you suddenly felt a firm grip around your waist, pulling you closer.

"hoon what are y-" he's quick to cut you off, pressing his erection against your plump ass.

you gasp at the feeling, and so does sunghoon.

"fuck, this okay, yeah?" he asks in a breathy whisper, already lost in the feeling.

you mumble a "yes" in response. the way his clothed dick was pressed against your clothed ass felt way too good.

immediately, he starts roughly grinding his erection on your ass, too needy to hold himself back any longer.

"feels so good hoon" you manage to say while pushing your ass against him, increasing the pleasure.

this makes sunghoon let out a guttural groan. he swiftly flips you over so that he's on top of you. sunghoon quickly gets rid of his black tank top and his large but pretty hands find their way to your breasts— cupping them.

you whimpered in pleasure. wasting no time, you quickly wrapped your arms around and pulled him into a wet and sloppy kiss. you weren't thinking, you were just doing.

sunghoon then pulls away, abruptly. before you knew it, he had rolled up your top to expose your breasts, and was toying with your hardened nipples with his mouth. you'd never experienced such insane pleasure, you were truly losing it— in a good way, of course.

sunghoon didn't realize how much of a daze he was in. he loved how pretty and perky your breasts were. how pretty your light brown nipples were.

"m' hoon, need more, need you in me" you moan out while desperately grinding your hips harder against his.

he couldn't deny you of what you wanted.

in one swift motion, sunghoon pulls your top over your head and rids of your little pajama shorts.

"look at you baby, so pretty. didn't even wear any underwear under your little jammies" he says while leaving sloppy, open-mouthed kisses from your neckline to your tummy— all you could do was just moan in response.

you've grown quite needy at this point, and so you quickly sit up and tug down his grey sweats to reveal his hardened cock hidden beneath his calvin klein boxers.

sunghoon is caught off guard by your actions, but he loves it. he loves that you're just as needy for him as he is for you.

you bring your palm up to his clothed dick, causing sunghoon's hips to buck up into your hand involuntarily.

"shit princess" you hear him say in a breathy moan.

and before you could even blink, sunghoon tugs down his boxers and kicks them away, leaving you both bare. he looked unreal. his muscles and erect cock all on display, just for you, was really doing something to you.

"gonna prep you, yeah?" he looks at you with a sweet and loving gaze, admiring your pretty self.

you just nod eagerly, you couldn't form an actual response. you were just thinking of how well he'd fill you up. his cock was atleast 6 1/2 inches and was a pretty shade of pink, fitting for sunghoon.

sunghoon bends down and brings his hand to your cunt and spreads your glistening folds. you moan, again. god, sunghoon could cum from just pleasuring you.

wasting no time, he plunges two fingers into your hole— easily sliding them in due to how wet you are.

"so wet for me baby, shit. gonna fuck you so good princess" he feels you clench around his fingers at his dirty words.

"hoon, please" you whine. you needed him in you, now.

he didn't need to hear anything else. he quickly took his fingers out of your sopping cunt. the way they were glistening with your wetness got him even harder. without any thought, he brought his fingers to your mouth and you immediately started sucking on them.

fuck, you were absolutely perfect.

and thank god you'd been drinking pineapple juice for the past few days.

sunghoon brings his other hand to his cock and pumps it a few times. you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer. you just always want him closer, even if you're already close enough.

he rubs the tip of his cock along your wet core, causing you both to gasp in pleasure. and next thing you know, he's lifting your hips up to align his cock with your entrance.

you're so eager to be fucked by him, too eager. so eager that you bring your hips closer to his so that his cock finally slides into of you.

"so tight for me baby, shitt" he says in a breathy moan. the way your warm walls were so perfectly sucking him in was causing him to lose all of his sanity.

he was so big. the way he filled you up was more than you could've ever dreamt of. you felt like you were having an out-of-body experience, right now.

what started off as slow thrusts then turned into rapid thrusts— at an animalistic pace. sunghoon was really losing it. you both were, honestly. the way his balls slapped against your ass cheeks every time he thrusted into you was making you see stars.

"so good for me, such a nice pussy, baby fuckk" he wraps his muscular arms around your torso and pulls you up, closer to him. this new position causes his dick to reach even deeper and you swear you're on cloud 9.

you're quick to bring your faces closer together and connect your guy's lips in a very wet and sloppy kiss.

you could already feel the knot in your stomach. with the way sunghoon was fucking you, you'd be cumming anytime now.

sunghoon could tell that, too— by your body language and the way you were moaning and screaming his name.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck hoonie faster !" you scream, desperately.

sunghoon compliantly starts thrusting into you at an even quicker pace, if that was even humanly possible.

"your little cunt was made for me, all for me, shit" he grunts and brings one of his hands to your breast to squeeze it.

"been dreaming of fucking you for so long, princess, pussy so good— so good f' me" you clench around his cock and let out a loud moan. the way he was talking so dirty really did something to you.

you were so close to cumming, so close. and as if he knew exactly how you were feeling, sunghoon brought his thumb to your clit and started ramming into you even deeper than before.

"ngh ! hoonie, gonna, fuck— cum, gonna cum !" you bring your hands to his hair and pull him even closer, so that he's almost laying on top of you.

"yeah? gonna cum for me baby? cum on my cock, fuckk"

and that you do.

once your orgasm hits, he thrusts into you even faster— making you see stars.

"shit princess, clenching me so fucking tight, gonna fill you up with my cum, shit—"

he quickly slung your legs over his shoulders as he continued to ram into you and fill your pretty little cunt with his load.

"you okay, pretty?" sunghoon asked, wanting to make sure you were okay.

after all, he did just fuck you like a dog.

"'m okay hoonie" you replied weakly, your throat hurting from all the screaming.

"let's clean you up, yeah?" sunghoon carefully wrapped his arms around your waist and planted a kiss on your cheek.

afterwards, he quickly got up to go to the bathroom to go get a warm towel.

the rest of the night was filled with lots of love— cuddling and many kisses.

please like, reblog, and comment if u enjoyed :3 u can find my other works here !

#── mochiwonz ୨୧ #park sunghoon #sunghoon smut #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #enha x reader #enha #enhypen scenarios #enha smut #sunghoon park #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #smut #fluff #enha fluff

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kirammanswifey · 12 hours ago

Text

how would be the first time with arcane characters x fem reader (nsfw)

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: hi guys, this took me longer than it should have but it's finally ready and i'm pretty happy with the result. some smuts are more explicit than others, and not for any particular reason, it's just how my inspiration flowed and how i imagine the dynamic with each character's personality. as you already know request are open ;)

The room is bathed in the soft light of a lamp on Viktor's desk, barely enough to illuminate the blueprints scattered across the table. But this time, there are no scientific projects demanding his attention, only you. Viktor is sitting on the edge of the bed, his honey-colored eyes watching you with a mix of nervousness and tenderness.

Viktor

"Are you sure you want to do this with me?" he asks in a low voice, almost a whisper, as his trembling hand caresses your cheek. You can feel the warmth in his touch, a warmth that contrasts with his usually reserved exterior. Viktor has always been so cautious, so focused on his work, that this moment feels as if time has stopped for the two of you.

You nod softly, but the knot in your stomach is inescapable. "There’s nothing I want more. I want to take this step. We’ve been together for four months, I think we’ve waited long enough."

However, the words taste half-hearted, and your mind starts filling with doubts. You bite your lower lip, the weight of a secret you've carried for years pressing against your chest. Should you tell him? Will it change anything between you if you do? A small voice inside you whispers that he may not understand, that he could see you differently.

The silence stretches, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks. "Viktor, there's something I need to tell you before... before we do this," you begin, your voice barely a murmur. You take a second, looking at your hands intertwined in your lap. "I’ve never… I’ve never done this before."

Lifting your gaze just a little, you see the confusion on his face, but there’s no judgment, only patience. You take a breath and continue, even lower, as if saying it aloud was a confirmation you've avoided for years. "I’m still a virgin."

The last word comes out as a whisper, and you wish you could hide from the vulnerability you just showed. You were twenty-seven and hadn’t had sex, hadn’t even thought about it. It had never been a priority in your life. But now that you were with Viktor, it was one of the things you couldn’t stop thinking about. You look away, your fingers nervously playing with a fold in your clothing. "I know it’s unusual for my age. I always thought... it should have happened before, but it just never did. It’s a bit embarrassing."

The room fills with a heavy silence, and you fear what Viktor might think. But then, his warm hand envelops yours, stopping your nervous movements. "You don’t have to feel embarrassed," he says with a tenderness that makes your heart relax a little. "Experience doesn’t define the value of a moment like this."

You look at him and find his eyes full of understanding. "I don’t have much experience either," he admits softly, a small blush appearing on his cheeks. "I’ve always been so immersed in my work that… I never had time for these things."

Your lips curve into a small smile at his words, finding comfort in the shared sincerity. Viktor has always been someone you can trust, and this moment is no different. You felt so comfortable.

"But," he adds, gently squeezing your hands, "I’ll do my best. I want this moment to be special for both of us."

A wave of emotion envelops you, dispelling the embarrassment and replacing it with something deeper: trust. Viktor, always so considerate, makes you feel safe, loved, and it is in this space of mutual vulnerability that you find the courage to move forward.

His lips meet yours again, this time with more intention. The kiss is slow, laden with silent promises and desires that have been waiting to be explored. Viktor’s hands slide over your body with a mix of curiosity and reverence, stopping to feel every curve, every line.

You do the same, letting your fingers explore his body, acknowledging the delicacy of his movements, the firmness of his chest under your hands. Every caress is a discovery, a reaffirmation of the connection you both share.

"Let’s take it slow," he whispers against your lips, his voice soft and reassuring. "I want us both to feel comfortable."

You nod, feeling more confident with every passing second. He removes your blouse, leaving you in your bra, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your collarbone, savoring the smoothness of your skin. His fingers worked quickly, almost desperately, on the clasp of the garment.

"I didn’t know you were so skilled at this," you confessed with a nervous giggle as you felt the usual freedom in your chest, the straps falling but still covering your breasts, only to be uncovered by a gesture from Viktor, a gesture with a grace that could only be characteristic of him.

Viktor brushed the hair covering your right ear aside, leaned in, and whispered with his marked accent, "I work with machines, my dear, I’m especially agile with my hands."

Those words filled you with courage, and you threw yourself into kissing him, your bare breasts rubbing against the covered skin of his chest. You moved your hips frenetically, your body begging for more, pleading for that unknown pleasure you were dying to experience. You wanted to taste that forbidden fruit exclusively from Viktor's hand.

With Viktor, everything was slow, full of meaning, every touch, every whisper, a promise of eternal love. Both naked in bed. The movements become more intimate, more laden with desire. You feel his warm breath on your neck, his hands finding places that make your skin tingle, your heart race faster.

And when you finally cross that line together, it’s with a mix of awe and love, discovering that experience doesn’t define how special a moment can be, but the person with whom you share it.

"Do you dare to follow me?" Jinx asks, almost as if she isn't posing a question but throwing down a challenge. Her voice is playful, but there's something in her gaze that lets you know things could get much more intense than they seem.

Jinx

The sound of metal clashing against concrete is the only thing filling the air. The lights of Zaun flicker in the distance, creating an atmosphere that feels as electric as the chaos dwelling in Jinx's heart. You're there, standing in front of her, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins after a night of mischief and shared laughter. Her laugh, like her energy, is unpredictable, dangerous, and so contagious that you can't help but smile every time she looks at you with those bright blue eyes, filled with fun and madness. The kind of madness that takes your breath away and makes you crave more and more.

You nod, feeling your body tense with anticipation. This isn't the first time you've been close to her, but it is the first time the air feels charged with something different. The atmosphere, the closeness of her body, the way she subtly touches you while questioning everything you've done wrong in your life... it all gives you the sense that this is a point of no return.

You're nervous, but the thrill of being with Jinx, that unpredictable and uninhibited girl, quickly dissipates any trace of fear. Jinx is a whirlwind, and though you know you could lose yourself in her, you also feel there's something deeper, something you've never seen in anyone else.

Jinx moves closer, her mischievous smile never fading as she gently takes your hand. "Let's do it, toots," she says with that spark in her eyes that always drives you crazy. "This will be the most fun ride of your life."

The kiss comes unexpectedly, but perfectly. Her lips are a clash of energy, warm, quick, impetuous. You're surprised at how tender her touches can be, despite being so chaotic in everything else. Her hands explore your body with a mix of curiosity and desire, as if she's trying to disassemble you playfully. One of her hands slips under your skirt and brushes against your clit with her index finger, as if testing you, wanting to see your reaction, wanting to have fun with you.

A gasp of surprise is enough to make her laugh and move faster; before you know it, she has three fingers working inside you. You didn't even have time to think, and that's exactly what you shouldn't do with Jinx. With Jinx, you just have to relax and not fill your head with unnecessary thoughts. With Jinx, you just have to accept her and not question her actions.

And that's why you didn't utter a word when she bit one of your nipples hard enough to make you scream. She was pushing you to the limit, her fingers never stopping, never ceasing to stimulate you.

Your eyes rolled back from the pleasure, that mischievous, incoherent pleasure. Your first orgasm came without warning, juices running down Jinx's fingers like a broken fountain. The second followed, feeling like stepping on cool sand on an early morning beach, refreshing and necessary. After that, you lost count. You knew nothing anymore. You were just aware that you were enjoying it as if the world were ending tomorrow.

"Tell me I'm the best, tell me no one has ever made you feel as much as I have," Jinx whispered against your neck, covered in hickeys and bruises.

You tried to focus your blurry vision on Jinx, and in her eyes, there was a fragile layer of vulnerability that you could barely grasp but knew was there.

You took her face in your hands and kissed her with much saliva and a lot of uncoordinated passion, something that made the moment even more exciting. Because it was a kiss born from your instincts, from the vulnerability of your being, and the best part was that it hadn't been perfect. It was real and authentic, like your love for her.

"You are. No one has ever made me come so many times in a row. You're incredible, sweets," you admitted between breathless gasps, your body still sensitive but arching for more.

"I knew it, I'm the best," she patted herself on the shoulder, proud of herself.

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension in your body easing a bit. Jinx had a way of making what should be uncomfortable into something liberating, something you had never experienced before.

"Well, get ready, toots. This is just the beginning," she promised, going back to attacking your overstimulated clit.

Her lips trailed down your neck, and you felt how her body responded to yours with an urgency that made you feel alive in a way you never imagined.

From there, the night was filled with tender moments, sincere connections, and a vulnerability you only shared with her.

You and Vi in your room, she had sneaked through one of the windows in the middle of the night. And her excuse for waking you up in such an overwhelming and unexpected way, was that she missed you. And you couldn't scold her, you couldn't question her for her impulsive action because you missed her just the same. And you didn't say anything when she snuck under your sheets and started eating your pussy hungrily.

Her strong arms kept your trembling legs apart, her hair tickled your belly and her tongue, oh god, her tongue was so deep inside you. She was so dedicated to her task, she was trying her best, enjoying every lick. The air in the room was filled with the obscene sounds of her tongue and your muffled moans.

Every now and then you would bend your torso to get closer to her, but Vi would quickly push you back again, immobilizing you with her hand on your neck. She didn't want you to distract her, she didn't want you to interrupt her.

Even then you wanted to tease her, you wanted her eyes to look at you. You needed it. You'd always had a dangerous fixation on her attention.

"Did you really get past the security guards and climb up to my window for this? You must have really missed me." You commented in a mocking, almost contemptuous tone.

And you succeeded, her intense gaze now locked on your face. She pulled away from your pussy for a moment to talk to you.

"From down here it doesn't seem like it bothered you much," She bit the inside of your thighs, an area so sensitive it made you moan louder than you should.

She teased you and went back to her arduous task. And you, you were going crazy, it was the first time you two had done something like this. And it wasn't even half as good as you had imagined. It was much better. You could easily tell she was an expert, she knows where, how and where to touch to make you see stars in a clear sky.

“Why are you so sweet?” Vi panted into your pussy, sucking your clit between her lips and making light circular motions with her tongue. You were going to lose your mind if she kept this up.

You leaned down and the straps of your dress fell down, one of your breasts was exposed and Vi didn’t hesitate to take it in her hard hand to squeeze it.

“Don’t say things like that,” You squirmed into her touch, your hips moving forward as she moved away from your private part.

“Oh, are you embarrassed, little deer?” She said, her typical cheeky smile coming to the surface. “You don’t have to, you’re gorgeous and delicious.” You were going to complain, but you felt two of her fingers enter your hole and all rational thought went out the window.

“Fuck, Vi,” You panted as her fingers twisted around inside you, touching parts you didn’t even know existed or that would feel this good.

Vi licked her lips, tasting you, and squeezed your neck tighter.

"Shut up, we can't let your parents hear us," Her comment made a kind of glint appear in your eyes that she didn't miss. "Or do you want us to be discovered? What a dirty girl!" Her voice has that playful mockery, that challenging tone that always makes you laugh, but also makes you a little nervous.

"No... that's not true," you answer, your words now much more uninhibited. But your voice trembles a little, betraying the confidence you try to show.

"Don't lie to me, you liked the idea," Vi pulled you closer, pulling your hair with the hand that previously held your neck. "Your pussy squeezed my fingers." She whispered on your lips, teasing and humiliating you.

You tried to deny it again, but it felt so good, you loved that she treated you so roughly. That she wasn't careful with you. That she didn't worry about hurting you. Because she knew just what to do and what not to do. Vi was fucking perfect for you, and you were fucking perfect for her.

"I don't blame you, the image is morbid. The little girl from home who doesn't break a plate being ravished by the dirty and rude criminal from Zaun. That's what your prissy parents would think. They'd think I forced you, that I'm forcing you into this. Ironic, right?" The tone of her voice is brazen, almost defiant, but there's something else in her words that makes you blush. Is she challenging you? Is she provoking you? What does all this mean? You feel trapped in her gaze, that intensity that always accompanies it, as imposing as the sound of his fists hitting a punching bag.

And the intensity of her caresses didn't cease, they only increased in magnitude more and more, you didn't know how much more you could take.

"I would love to see their surprised faces when they see the reality, that their good little girl is a fucking bitch hungry for my fingers," her hot breath on your skin feels like a touch of fire.

“Shut up,” you barked, a knot forming in your stomach.

"Why? You're getting wetter, you're enjoying this too much," Vi teases you, continuing to penetrate you, taking you to the edge.

And finally you came. You could feel the energy in your body vibrating with the same intensity as your soul moved. It was magical. Everything around you, all you can think about, is her.

Vi didn't waste the opportunity and she went back down to your pussy, feeding on every drop of your orgasm.

"Shit," You cursed under your breath as you watched her.

When she finished she stood up with a triumphant smile, the back of her right hand wiping away the fluid left on her chin. The confidence in her voice and in her actions melts you inside. Despite her defiant attitude, there's something deeply protective in the way she takes you, in how she guides your every move with a mix of dominance and care. There are no doubts, no insecurities when you're with Vi, and you realize that even though your nervousness almost paralyzed you at first, now you just feel the need to be closer to her.

"Thanks, little deer. I was thirsty," She winked at you and laid down next to you.

She closed her eyes and held you close, falling asleep as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn't just given you the best orgasm in the world.

That night, everything seemed to be aligned: the fresh air of Piltover, the soft light of the stars, and the closeness between the two of you. You had gone to deliver a report, one thing had led to another, and now you were kissing as if your lives depended on it.

Caitlyn

You clung to her body like a magnet, not wanting to let her go; finally, your greatest dream was coming true. Since you joined the Enforcers, you had been attracted to Caitlyn, and not just because of her impressive physique and British accent. Everything about Caitlyn is serene, controlled, perfect. It’s hard not to admire the calm with which she moves through the world, with her well-mannered ways and always upright posture, almost like an unbreakable force. But in that same stillness, there’s something that draws you in, something that makes you want to know what lies behind her façade.

Caitlyn stopped the kiss, her hand holding your jaw in a dominant yet gentle manner. Her dark navy blue hair was tousled thanks to your restless hands, and she was catching her breath. She looked incredibly beautiful. You didn’t think you’d ever seen such a perfect human being.

The sound of the wind is the only witness to what’s about to happen. Caitlyn is there, right in front of you, her gaze fixed on yours, deep and penetrating.

"I think what we're doing is a bit... out of the ordinary, isn't it?" Caitlyn says, her voice soft, but with a tone that makes you feel like she’s watching your every move.

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply, nervousness pulsing through your veins, but you can’t look away from her. There’s something in her calm that soothes you, but it also challenges you. The fact that she looks at you that way, almost as if she’s expecting something, makes you feel a whirlwind of emotions you don’t know how to handle.

Caitlyn takes a step towards you, just enough for you to feel the warmth of her body near yours. She observes you in silence, as if she’s evaluating every small change in your expression. “I think it’s a bit much to call me that after what just happened. Call me Cait.”

And in that moment, you felt like you melted.

“Cait,” the way your tongue savored her name was timid and tender, like testing if you weren’t doing something wrong, but a half-smile from her confirmed the opposite.

She was your superior; it hadn’t been wise of you to steal a kiss, a kiss that she reciprocated, but you didn’t know if she might punish you for it. She could throw you out of the Enforcers or, much worse, ignore you and treat you with discomfort. Doubts were eating you alive. The fear of having done something stupid was tormenting you over and over.

“Listen carefully. Through the physical contact we shared a few minutes ago, I think it’s quite noticeable that we feel a mutual attraction,” she made a small pause, and your heart almost jumped out of your chest. “However, we cannot let it affect us in the workplace. Do you think you can separate the two?” she asks, and although her tone is calm, there’s a glimmer of something more in her gaze, something deeper.

You found yourself nodding pathetically fast, like an addict when offered their favorite drug.

She smiles slightly, a soft but confident smile, as if she knows what’s about to happen is inevitable. Suddenly, her hands touch your face gently, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. The contact is electric, and though her touch is soft, there’s a strength in it that makes you feel exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Caitlyn whispers, slowly leaning in. “I’ll take care of you.”

And with those words, her lips touch yours once more, softly at first, but it doesn’t take long for it to intensify. The gentleness gave way to a burning desire both of you had been holding back. She quickly removed your uniform, amid passionate and sweet kisses, pushing you onto her bed. She gets on top of you, observing your naked figure, a look of approval crossing her face, and at that moment, you felt like the happiest person in the world.

Her hands, firm but delicate, trace your body, exploring every corner with a precision that leaves you breathless. It’s the perfect contrast: her external calm and the intensity that emanates from her touch.

Every movement of Caitlyn is calculated, but also filled with an emotional connection that captures you. There’s no rush, no fear, just a desire to be close, to discover what both of you can offer in this moment. She knows how to make you feel special, how to make your body respond to her touch, how to provoke a fire inside you with just a glance.

In an instant, you are completely lost in her, in her tenderness, in her strength. Caitlyn is not like the others. The way she touches you is not just physical but reaches your soul, as if she is baring your heart while pushing you beyond your own limits. Every sigh, every brush of her skin against yours, is a promise that there’s nothing she cannot expect from you, but also that there’s nothing you should fear while she’s by your side.

When she finally stops, her gaze meets yours, filled with desire but also with something much deeper. Caitlyn doesn’t need to say anything else. You understand everything in her eyes: this is a beginning, not an end, and what happens between the two of you will only build on trust, passion, and something much more genuine than just physical desire.

“I’d love to see how far you could go if you let yourself go,” Caitlyn murmurs, with a subtle smile that makes you blush, but at the same time makes you feel like the only person in the world to her. “Do you want to let yourself go?”

Once again, you didn’t hesitate to nod. You almost protested when she got up; you had already gotten used to the weight of her body, her hands on your skin, her eyes on yours. But curiosity formed when you saw her rummaging through the cabinet beside the bed, your eyes widened when you saw her walking back to you with a black dildo.

Everything was so surreal, you had so many nerves, so many questions, so many doubts, but it all vanished when Caitlyn's fingers danced along the smooth, curved surface of the dildo, teasing you with the promise of what’s to come. Her touch sends shivers of anticipation racing up your spine as she brings the toy to her lips, her tongue flicking out to moisten the tip. Caitlyn's eyes, darkened with lust, never leave yours as she traces the contours of her mouth along the length, her breath hot and heavy against the cool silicone.

"Let's get you nice and ready," Caitlyn purrs, her voice low and sultry. She takes your hand, guiding it to the base of the dildo, letting your fingers explore the textured surface. The weight of it, the solidity, is a thrilling reminder of the pleasure that awaits you.

Caitlyn's fingers curl around yours, both of your hands now wrapped around the thick shaft. Together, you slowly inch the toy between your legs, the head nudging against your inner thigh. The first touch against your most intimate place sends a gasp tumbling from your lips, your hips instinctively canting forward.

Everything was a madness, a kaleidoscope of sensations and feelings.

"Feel how wet you are," Caitlyn whispers, her thumb circling your clit with a feather-light touch. Your arousal coats the toy, making the glide easier as inch by inch, Caitlyn slowly pushes it inside you. The stretch, the fullness, is exquisite, your walls yielding to accommodate the girth.

Caitlyn sets a steady rhythm, the toy sliding in and out of you with practiced ease. Each thrust sends a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through you, your body trembling and shaking. The obscene sound of the dildo plunging in and out of your dripping sex fills the room, mingling with your wanton moans and cries.

She picks up the pace, the toy driving deeper, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision go white. Your cries grow louder, more urgent, as the first stirrings of your orgasm begin to build. Caitlyn's free hand finds your breast, kneading the soft flesh, her thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling your nipple.

It was too much, too much, you couldn't take it anymore. The woman of your dreams was fucking you with a damn dildo in her fucking room. You thought you were dreaming. Hallucinating.

"Come on, darling, let it go. You deserve it, you’ve been a good girl," Caitlyn whispered in her marked accent, and you didn’t need anything more to let it flow.

Caitlyn held you for a moment longer, her hand resting gently on your back. Both shared a brief sigh, allowing the calm to fill the space between you.

"Are you okay?" she asked with a slight smile, her voice soft but firm.

You nodded, taking a deep breath and feeling the tension slowly dissipate. Caitlyn moved back a bit, giving you your space, but her gaze remained attentive, as it always did.

"Thank you," you whispered, feeling a bit lighter.

Caitlyn turned towards you, intending to ask why exactly you were thanking her, but stopped when she saw you already asleep in her bed, your breathing calm and relaxed. A soft smile formed on her lips as she watched you for a moment, appreciating the serenity on your face.

Without making any noise, she got up and took the report you had brought her. She sat on a nearby chair and, with the same calm she had shown you, began inspecting the documents, letting you rest in peace while she worked in silence.

Jayce's office is impressive, filled with blueprints and artifacts that reveal his brilliant and ambitious mind. You're there, beside his desk, watching him move, standing by the window, unaware of the way you look at him. There's something about his posture, something about the way he speaks with such confidence, that makes you feel an undeniable attraction.

Jayce

But you know, you've noticed for a while: there's something about him that calls to you beyond the professional. You move closer, silently, but somehow your steps resonate in the air of the office.

"Have you finished the meeting?" you ask, your voice soft but with a clarity that makes him turn towards you. Jayce looks at you, and for a moment, everything seems to stop.

"Yes, I have," he responds, but something in his tone sounds more relaxed than usual. The look he gives you is inquisitive, but also something more. He lets you know with a smile that hides a slight challenge. "Is there anything else you need?"

Without warning, you move closer, the space between the two of you narrowing. He doesn't say anything, but you can see the surprise in his eyes when you stand right in front of him, your fingers lightly touching his chest. The air becomes dense, heavy, as if you're waiting for him to say something.

But you take the initiative. You place a hand on his neck, forcing his gaze to yours. "Yes, actually... there is something I need," you say, and the way you say it makes him fall silent. The tone of your voice is firm, but it's charged with palpable electricity, something both of you can feel.

Jayce stays still, but you can see he's tense, slightly surprised by what you're doing, as if he's not used to someone taking control in a situation like this. But it's not like he's upset, rather, he seems to be waiting for you to continue with what you have in mind.

The hand that was on his neck now slowly moves down, sliding over his chest until it reaches his waist, delving into his pants. The touch is soft, yet confident. Your fingers touch his semi-hard cock, feeling how his breathing quickens.

"And that, Jayce, is for you to stop for a second and listen to me," you say, and with a smile that's part challenge, part promise.

Jayce is left speechless, but he plays along, letting you lead him to the edge of the desk. You have his full attention now, and the way he looks at you, the way he seems to be waiting for each of your moves, makes you feel incredibly powerful. He, the great leader of Piltover, is now in your hands, and you know it.

Without taking your eyes off him, you lower yourself to his lower part, maneuvering to unbutton his pants. And when you succeed, you sigh with joy, his impressive length bouncing against your face, ready for you.

You look directly into his eyes, seeing a slight tension form on his face, but there's also something else: desire. A desire hidden beneath his facade of power and control.

"I've seen you very stressed lately, and I don't like seeing that pretty face full of wrinkles. I'm going to make you feel good, my fellow" you whisper against his cock, blowing warm air on his large, leaking member.

He seems to take a deep breath, as if he's trying to process what's happening. But when your hands start to glide along his length, everything else disappears.

Your touch is gentle, teasing at first, barely grazing his sensitive flesh. You watch, transfixed, as a bead of moisture wells up at the flushed tip, tempting you to taste. Unable to resist, you lean in and lap at it with the flat of your tongue, savoring the heady, masculine flavor that explodes across your senses.

Spurred on by his sharp intake of breath, you take him into your mouth, engulfing the swollen head and suckling gently. Your tongue swirls around him, taking him deeper on each downstroke until he hits the back of your throat. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue, growing even harder and more insistent.

You pull back slowly, releasing him from your mouth with a lewd pop. A string of saliva connects your bottom lip to the engorged head of his cock. You look up at him with hooded eyes, your lips curling into a seductive smile. "You taste so good," you purr, stroking him faster now. "I want to make you feel amazing, golden boy."

You see him lose control, but it's different. He's more vulnerable, more human, more real. And you're there, enjoying every second of that power.

The brush of your lips over his cock makes him sigh, but this time, the sigh is a whisper of surrender. He is no longer the leader of Piltover, the man of steel and determination. Now he's just Jayce, the man who yields to you, the man who lets himself be carried away by desire, by the need to feel closer to you.

With every step, you take him further beyond his limits. And as you do, he also shows you, in silence, how much he wants you, how much he needs you. Everything else fades away, leaving only the desire you both share.

But then, a familiar laugh cuts through the stillness of the night. You turn around to see Ekko, jumping from one ledge to another as if it were the most natural thing in the world, landing beside you with a smile only he could offer. The mischievous glint in his eyes tells you this night is going to be anything but boring.

Ekko

It's a cool night in the Undercity, the moonlight reflecting off the crumbling walls of the buildings as you stand atop a rooftop, watching the city sprawled beneath your feet. From here, everything seems calmer, more distant, even though life continues behind you.

"What are you doing here without me?" Ekko asks, raising an eyebrow, never taking his eyes off you. "Did you think you could enjoy the view without me joining you?"

You laugh, knowing exactly how he plays, how he always manages to make situations feel fun and full of energy. "Did you think I'd sit idly by while you strut around like the king of Zaun?" you respond with an equally playful smile.

The closeness between the two of you becomes more palpable, more charged, as if every shared word heightens the tension between you. The cool night air feels light, but the heat growing between you is anything but.

Ekko steps closer, his eyes gleaming with the confidence he always has, but there's something more. Something that makes you wonder if this moment will be different from the rest. He stands in front of you, his breath now closer to yours.

"The good thing about being up here," he says, looking you up and down, "is that no one can interrupt us." His tone is soft but with a hint of something you know exactly where it's leading.

You follow him with your gaze as he steps even closer. The tension builds, almost like a non-verbal challenge, and you can't help the mischievous smile forming on your face. Something about him incites you to play, to see how things unfold.

"Oh, yeah? And what do you want to do with all this privacy?" Of course, you knew, but you were playing along, as that was the dynamic between you.

Ekko's gaze intensifies, his lips curving into a satisfied smile as he steps closer to you. His hands rest on your hips, lightly firm but without pressing, as if waiting for something. His eyes never leave yours, teasing with the idea of what the two of you could do.

"Why use words when there are actions?" he responds, his voice so low and deep it makes you shiver. Without warning, his hands slide around your waist, lifting you slightly and pulling you closer to his chest.

The contact is gentle, but it feels like an electric jolt, as if everything between you had condensed into that single moment. He caresses your back with his fingers, as if wanting to explore every inch, but in a relaxed way, without haste. His game is subtle, but you're sure he's enjoying the uncertainty you're both creating.

"I want you," he murmurs against your lips.

You smirk and touch his crotch, enjoying his soft gasp in response.

"I know, I can feel it," you say with a provocative air, marking the first victory of the night.

But Ekko wasn't someone who gave up easily. He slid a hand between your legs, brushing against your sensitive spot still covered. You moaned and dug your nails into his shoulders.

"Yeah, I can feel it too," his tone was teasing, but not in a bad way.

A few seconds of playing, of tension, and then you dare to take the next step. You give him a gentle push, not too hard, but enough to stop his movement and make him look at you, amused but also a little surprised. "Is that all you got, Ekko?" you challenge, unable to resist the provocation in your tone.

With a low laugh, Ekko responds, "You're right, how could I underestimate you?" Then, he leans close to your ear, his breath brushing your skin. "I think this night is going to be more interesting than I thought."

In a swift move, he works on his belt, then pulls down his pants and underwear to his knees. But he doesn't stop there; he lifts you and raises your dress. In less than a second, he's inside you, large and warm, throbbing.

You gasped loudly and pulled his hair. Everything had happened so suddenly, so wild and erratic. But it was to be expected; you two had had immediate sexual tension from the first time you saw each other. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before this happened.

The heat intensified, the electricity between you became palpable, your hips moving side to side, guided by his firm hands—it was a beautiful, coordinated dance. And before you can react, his lips meet yours in an intense but playful kiss. It's not rushed or desperate but filled with the passion you've both kept at bay, that spark that had always been there, waiting for a moment like this.

The kiss is deep, slow, as his hands explore your body softly but with a need for more. Ekko's playfulness doesn't fade, and you can feel how he changes the rhythm, how his caresses go from gentle to more demanding, as if challenging you to keep up.

"I knew you had something up your sleeve," he says, with a mocking smile between kisses. "But I didn't think you'd be this good at it." Ekko traced lines on your tense abdomen with his fingers while you rode him—you were a sight to behold. His muse. There, under the moonlight caressing your face, your body united with his, it was a masterpiece.

"It's just that you make me want to play at your level," you respond, riding him with a steady, confident rhythm.

Ekko throws his head back, allowing himself to let go for a moment, enjoying your delicious motion. His expression is a delight, mouth slightly open and brows furrowed—the face he makes when he's angry. And you've always had a particular fixation on angry Ekko, so you took advantage of the situation and kissed him once more. You needed it. You needed this. You've needed this for so long.

Every kiss became more frantic, every touch more necessary, every moan more intimate. On the rooftop, under the starry lights and the whisper of the wind, there was only you and Ekko. And that was all that mattered.

Silco

The atmosphere in the room is charged with tension. You've been close to him for some time, ever since that day he took you out of the brothel, that repugnant place that, for reasons you still don't fully understand, he allowed you to leave behind. Life with him is not easy, and you know he's watching you, testing, evaluating you at every moment. But you also know that, in some way, he's protected you, cared for you. And at this moment, that protection seems to be the foundation of what's about to happen between you two.

Silco, standing next to his desk, observes you in silence. His gaze is intense, calculating, but there's something more in it, something that makes you feel a warmth inside. You know you desire him, but you also know that in this moment, in this game between the two of you, you are not in control. And that's something that, strangely, excites you more than you imagined.

"I've been wondering for a while, dear," he says with his deep, controlled voice, "what did you learn in that unpleasant place where I found you?" His tone is cold, but there's something in his gaze that makes everything more intense.

You can't help a wave of shame mingling with desire. You remember that brothel, the looks you received, how you felt empty and worthless. But Silco didn't look at you like the others, he saw something more, something that made you feel important. Now, in front of him, you can't help but wonder what he thinks of you at this moment.

"I want to see how well you learned the lessons there. Maybe I can teach you some new ones." He takes a step toward you, his gaze now warmer but equally firm. "I'm dying to see what you're capable of doing with your hands, with your body."

The comment, though direct and unmistakably harsh, provokes you. And instead of feeling uncomfortable, you feel a surge of excitement fill you. You approach him, without a word, and with a bold gesture, your hands glide over his chest with a softness that contrasts with the hardness of his attitude.

He watches in silence, with that same look that always gives you the feeling he can see beyond the obvious. Silco takes your wrist firmly, without you resisting. He knows what he wants, and he's not afraid to go after it.

"Do you think you're capable of doing it, or should you keep waiting to be 'saved'?" The way he says it challenges you, and it's not the question that bothers you, but the way he throws it at you, as if demanding an answer no matter how much you hate or desire him.

At that moment, something inside you snaps, and you can't help it. You stare at him, defying him, knowing you want him, but not wanting to give in so easily. "Do you really think you can teach me something? I don't think so," you say with a playful tone but with that fire in your eyes that you know he likes.

His response is immediate. He grabs you by the waist and, in a swift movement, pushes you against his desk, bending your torso and pressing your face against the wooden surface. The distance between your bodies is minimal, almost nonexistent, as his hands find your underwear, in a brutal and demanding manner. There is no softness, no tender caresses; it's all hardness, passion, and control. Silco owns the moment, and you are his.

"I think it's time you see what happens when you act like a spoiled brat," he whispers, his voice low and almost dangerous. And you have the feeling you're on slippery ground, but that only increases the intensity of the moment. His cock enters you slowly, painfully slow, as if he were torturing you, and before you could say anything, he had already started fucking you hard.

Your body reacts immediately, feeling his dominance and the way his hands move over you with urgency. You don't resist because you know this is what you've been waiting for. In his thrusts, there is power, control, but also a palpable desire to possess you, to take what belongs to him.

Silco isn't afraid to show you his rough side. He caresses you firmly, no matter what you think, as if everything you have been until now fades away in the act. You are not the girl you used to be, the one who escaped from men who saw her as mere merchandise. No, now you are in front of him, showing him that you also know what you want.

"I should have fucked you earlier. You feel incredible. Now I understand why you were so expensive; you must have been one of the star workers," he says, with his rough voice, as his hands cling to your hips, pushing into you relentlessly, each movement more demanding than the last. "But now you're mine."

And though every word he says burns you, you know this is a game where neither of you is afraid to lose. Silco has taken over you, but the truth is you have also taken over him, and both are caught in this whirlwind of desire and power, where passion consumes everything.

When you enter, Mel greets you with a soft smile, her gaze as always, deep, calculating, but this time there’s something different in her eyes, something that makes you feel like you’re not in the middle of a negotiation or a political discussion, but in something much more personal.

Mel

"Stay close," she says with that soft but firm voice that always makes you feel like everything else disappears. There are no rules, no power tensions, only the weight of desire slowly building between the two of you.

The distance between you is minimal, but Mel doesn’t make the first move, she waits. She looks at you with those eyes that seem to see everything about you, making you feel exposed but, at the same time, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s as if there’s a tacit permission in her gaze, an understanding that this moment will belong to just the two of you.

The space between you fills with palpable energy, the room dimly lit by candlelight, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. It’s not a place of power, but of calm, where the rules are different, and emotions are raw.

You gasp in surprise when you see her shed her robe, revealing nothing underneath. Her beautiful dark skin contrasted with the golden details she always wore as accessories. She was ethereal. That woman was ethereal.

Insecure, you undress as well, nervous about not meeting her expectations. Because you could never come close to her beauty and divinity. Once you’re naked, your trembling hands move to cover your body.

Mel steps toward you, her delicate but firm hands brushing against your face. "You don’t have to hide," she whispers, and the softness of her voice completely envelops you. For a moment, it seems like nothing else matters. The tension you’ve been feeling dissipates, replaced by a deep desire, something that pulls you toward her.

The touch of her fingers on your skin makes you close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to be carried away by the sensation. She gracefully caresses your breasts, tracing every imperfection. There’s no rush, no anxiety, only the slow rhythm set by Mel, allowing you to explore whatever is blossoming between the two of you.

"I want you here," she murmurs in your ear, taking your hand and placing it on her pussy, the warmth there sending a shiver through you. You begin to stimulate her, and she does the same to you. You can feel how her presence fills the space, how her words are not just a whisper, but an invitation to something deeper. In her embrace, in her hands on you, you find a calm you never thought you’d find, but also an intensity you hadn’t anticipated.

It doesn’t matter what’s between you, what’s happened in the past, or what will come in the future, because in this moment, the only thing that exists is Mel and you, and the connection that feels more natural than ever. She doesn’t need anything more from you, she doesn’t demand anything, but you know that what happens between you won’t be just a physical encounter; it will be a turning point, something both of you will treasure.

Mel leans into you, her lips, soft but filled with determination, meeting yours. The intensity of her kiss isn’t aggressive, but it has a depth that captivates you, wrapping you in a calm passion, where every move, every gesture, holds a meaning much greater than physical desire. Your fingers work harder to give her pleasure; you’ve become addicted to her moans, to the way her coded seriousness crumbles in front of you.

She holds you by the waist with one hand, while with the other, she caresses your cheek tenderly, as if, for once, she allows herself to be vulnerable with you. The softness of her touch is almost unsettling but so comforting at the same time. "I trust you," she says, and those words are all you need to hear.

You take control of the situation, pressing her against the nearest wall, your lips sucking on her skin, and your fingers never leaving her wet pussy for a second. She embraces you and lets it happen, allowing herself to be vulnerable with you.

The moment stretches on, and Mel, with her confidence but also with her vulnerability, guides you without rush, without pressure. There are no expectations, only the desire to share something genuine, something real.

Sevika

The alley is dark and silent, shadows are the only thing surrounding you after the mission you just completed with Sevika. Sweat covers your skin, along with the blood you’re not sure belongs to you or the men you took down with your own hands. Torn clothes and dirt on your face are reminders of what you just went through: more than 30 men, and only you and Sevika, emerging victorious from the battle.

Sevika stands by your side, her gaze fierce, her face as marked by the fight as yours. Yet, there is no fear in her eyes, only a determination that ignites something in you, a need for something more, something raw, whatever may arise at this moment. In the middle of the darkness, the air heavy with dust and adrenaline, the chemistry between the two of you is palpable, almost unbearable.

"Did you have fun?" Sevika's voice is rough, as if the battle left more than just physical marks. She takes a step towards you, her large, strong body invading your personal space in a way that makes you feel more alive than ever. It’s not just her presence that burns you; it’s the way she looks at you, as if she’s not afraid of what might happen between the two of you, as if she already knows that, at this moment, there’s only the two of you.

Your breathing quickens, not from exhaustion but from the tension building in the air. You don’t need to say anything; there’s no need for words. The silence between you fills with the mutual need that has been accumulating since the first second you clashed in that alley, fighting side by side.

"We did it, right?" Sevika almost challenges you with her words, her tone low and loaded with desire. Her body moves slowly towards yours, and when her hands grab your waist firmly, you realize there’s no turning back.

Your body trembles when her lips meet yours, rough and filled with unexpected passion. There’s no sweetness in this kiss, only hunger, a need that can’t be hidden. Sevika’s hands roam your back, pulling you toward her with force, as if she’s marking her territory. There’s no play, only the rawness of two people who’ve been on the edge of the abyss and now surrender completely to whatever comes. She makes you climb on her body, your legs wrapping around her hips.

The air smells of sweat, blood and hot skin, the atmosphere so charged that you can feel the heat of her body as if it were merging with yours. Sevika doesn't ask your permission to explore, to take what you both know you've been wanting for far too long. Sevika is strong enough to carry you with one hand and with the other to literally tear your underwear apart. She didn't wait for a yes from you, nor an invitation, because she was sure that you wanted her, oh and how right she was.

Her fingers pumped savagely in and out, the obscene sound of wet flesh smacking against flesh echoing in the close confines of the alley.

"Fuck, you're so fucking wet, little thing," Sevika snarled, her breath hot and ragged against your neck. She punctuated her words with a particularly brutal thrust, bending you nearly in half over her arm.

You could only whimper and writhe, impaled on Sevika's invading fingers, the rough brick scraping your back raw. Sevika's other hand gripped your thigh hard enough to bruise, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as she fucked you with wild abandon.

It was pure, animalistic rutting, a savage taking of pleasure and seeking of release. Your moans turned to desperate cries, your nails scrabbling at her shoulders as the pleasure bordered on pain.

Every movement is wild, fierce, a whirlwind of sensations you barely manage to process. The sound of ripping clothes, the clattering of shoes against the pavement, and the labored breathing filled with adrenaline fill the alley. In this moment, all that exists is the way Sevika possesses you, with that unstoppable force, with the energy of someone who doesn’t ask permission but takes what’s theirs.

Her fingers never slowed, plunging in and out, stirring up your insides, until finally, with a hoarse scream, you came undone. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around Sevika's fingers, gushing fluid down her wrist and splattering onto the filthy ground below.

But she didn't stop. She kept fucking you through your orgasm, extending it, drawing it out until you were a boneless, mewling mess.

"I've been watching you all this time, you know what you're doing," she whispers between kisses, her deep voice filled with admiration and desire. "I love women who know how to fight."

Then she pulls her fingers out, bringing them to her mouth and sucking your essence from them with a low, satisfied groan.

"Tastes like a woman who knows how to fight to me," she grins wickedly.

The passion was raw, direct, an explosion of repressed emotions, and when it all ends, only the cold sweat of the battle and the warmth of her body still pressed against yours remain, the feeling that, despite everything, this is what both of you needed.

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hivemuthur · 2 days ago

Text

The Ugly Thing

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! smut, love confessions, D/S dynamics (if you squint or if you know what I'm talking about), pinning, dom!viktor (but also not, if you squint, something something), Viktor-centric, AU college/university + modern era (again, you have to do some squinting for it to be relevant)

word count: 4,9K

summary: Yet another self-indulgent one-shot of Viktor and Reader. It's just an exploration. I want to believe this is erotica, but you tell me. Subspace/Domspace if you squint. Just squint, alright?

Cross-posted on AO3

—

Viktor was, at the very least, difficult. That was what he had called himself, and he relished the label, as it allowed him to be all things at once—sweet, shy, bold, cruel, smart, oblivious, observant. He walked through life making observations and turning his conclusions into actions, placing people exactly where he needed them, ensuring they couldn’t place him somewhere he didn’t want to be.

His relationships were fleeting moments of leniency—sometimes even kindness—offered only when he felt inclined. Occasionally, the kindness transpired twice, or three times, but never more, as the risk of forming a one- or double-sided attachment was undesirable. Viktor’s desires lay elsewhere, and in his pursuits, he indulged the weakness of the flesh while keeping his ultimate goal—recognition of his brilliant mind—crystal clear.

Always polite, so that nothing could hurt him. His armour of politeness and astute behaviour shielded him from the lingering hands that sought to cradle him through the night, from the tender offerings of morning coffee, and from the quiet intimacy of shared silences. Viktor didn’t crave these things. He made sure his politeness was cold, detached, and practised—a skill perfected to keep others at bay. There was no warmth in it, no invitation to linger.

From time to time, he indulged in fleeting encounters, moments where he allowed himself to surrender to the pull of human connection—physical, but never emotional. Emotional, but not lasting. It was a necessary recharge, a way to quiet the body’s demands, but he was always one step ahead. He ensured his partners understood that whatever fragile universe they built together in the night would dissolve with the first light of morning, leaving no trace beyond the cooling embers of his skin.

All that was left was being polite—a polite smile in the hallway, a pencil lent during a lecture, an elevator held for his perishable lover rushing to class. Their names never forgotten, but their warmth never wanted again.

Until you. Until you invaded his orbit and refused to be erased. Until you befriended Jayce, making it easy to keep meeting him, keep looking at him, keep exchanging amusements and something more than politeness—exchanging kindness. Until it turned out you were smart and driven and managed to scare him once or twice by pinning him with your joke.

Until he had slept with you, giving you his mediocre self—not the calculated, observant one, but the needy, touch-starved, pathetic one that moaned your name and groped you with begging hands. All during a completely unorchestrated evening in your dorm room, still half-clothed, just lustful and impatient. Just really fucking hungry in your mutual understanding, though you understood absolutely nothing. Oblivious to the ugly thing in him. Oblivious to the concept of boundaries. Oblivious to the need to protect yourself from prying eyes that might see the truth of what they were.

And the way you stared at him afterwards, gave your body a long stretch, and your limbs flopped back onto the mattress. And the way you said, “It’s ok if you want to go,” an understanding smile cracking across your face—yet you understood absolutely, utterly nothing. A way out he craved, but he wanted to carve it out for himself with his politeness, not with this—this knowing, wise look in your eyes that came from nowhere, because you knew nothing. He almost wanted to stay, just to spite you, but found himself only nodding, scrambling to his feet to fetch his brace and cane, and bidding you goodnight with a polite nod.

And the way you remained friendly. Not friendly—the way you two remained friends. The long nights spent in study groups, pulling straws to determine who was doomed to coffee duty, your head slumped in sleep on Jayce’s shoulder, his head resting on Mel’s. Your bare, cold feet stretched out, toes brushing against Viktor’s thigh, sending ice through his veins—and the way he didn’t mind. The way he contemplated cradling your feet in his palm, warming them against his better judgement.

The way your touch lingered on his arm when you grabbed him in the corridor to show him something funny on your phone. And the way the thing on your phone actually was funny—a picture of Jayce passed out in the library under a mountain of plastic cups balanced on his shoulders. The way his own laugh startled him, made his chest shake and his face lean in close to yours.

The way you would fall asleep in the common room, watching old horror films, your throat vulnerably exposed on his lap. And he just wanted to grab it, squeeze it tight, choke the confession out of you—that you lingered because you wanted more, because this friendship was unthinkable.

The way you got upset when he was mean, and the way he went out of his way to apologise with a childish, shit-eating grin. His arms reaching out for you, your palm pressing his face away in that same friendly gesture.

When he flushed his system with alcohol, all he could think about was fucking you senseless. And when your gaze lingered on him, burning all the way down into his ugly thing, you would ask what was on his mind, and he would say, “Physics.” And you would laugh his lie out.

The way, once, he gave you a lingering kiss on your doorstep and stopped himself. But seeing the question poised on the tip of your tongue, he sunk back in, turning the kiss into a sloppy, drunken mess, so you would be the one to push him away. A gentle pat on the shoulder, sending him off with the unspoken instruction to come back sober. And how he never came back for that.

All of this made him so fucking angry. His carefully mended self, constructed from sweetness, shyness, boldness, cruelty, wisdom, and oblivion, was crumbling under your pensive eyes—and the way you floated atop the pissed-off ocean of his mind.

And oh, he loathed himself on that evening, loathed the way his feet carried him to your room because he was feeling vaguely sad and distracted. He loathed his feet for doing so, loathed his finger for pressing the elevator button, loathed his knuckles for placing a quiet knock on your door. It was all so gross, so out of character, and he loathed it all.

And there you were, opening the door, your face full of dinner, hair messy, cheeks puffed out as you curled them into a closed-mouth grin and gave him a wave to come inside. A quiet “hi,” followed by a chuckle as you tried to swallow before chewing—and a cough when the gulp was too massive for your throat.

“Are you busy?” Viktor found himself blurting out, scanning the room. Your flatmate was gone for the weekend—her bed made, her shoes and coat missing. Observed, concluded. His eyes flicked over to the other bed: messy but cozy, notes scattered across it, a steaming cup on the bedside table, and a laptop propped in the leg area playing background noise. Studying, of course.

“I am always busy,” you grinned at him, your teeth bare and beautiful like the rest of you, as you dropped your dishes into the sink and put the kettle on. “Watching Dexter and studying. Do you want tea?”

“Maybe,” Viktor mused, biting his lip. He negotiated silently with himself, wondering what it was he hoped to find in this room that might sweeten his sour mood—and why his mood was sour in the first place. His hand wobbled on his cane, the traitorous thing, and he leaned against the doorframe to deflect, refusing to decide whether to step fully in or out.

“Okay, what’s gotten into you today?” you huffed, picking a mug you deemed suitable for him. Good Vibes Only, with a middle finger printed on the bottom of it, seemed fitting.

“Meaning?” Viktor cocked an innocent eyebrow, feeling the burn of your inquisitive gaze. Oh, to yank that lovely head by the neck and shove it between his legs, to ease the torment in his mind.

“This is the third time you’ve bothered me today. It’s the weekend. You usually work on the weekends. You’re being vague but resistant to probing. Did something happen?” The countdown of his sins, and it was only the count of one day. Nothing had happened, and that was the issue.

“I suppose I’m feeling… down?” He shrugged, the movement worn down, defeated. His brain ached, and he felt lonely. It had started to feel indecent to pursue others—and for that, you deserved a whack as well.

“Do you need a hug?” A mocking snort reached his ears. A long pause as the scales tipped between a ‘no’ and a ‘yes.’

“Yes.”

Another long pause, as you blinked and scanned him for any signs of a sham, your expression still uncertain. You had to make sure again. “Do you need a hug now?”

“No, in fifteen fucking minutes.” His undignified huff earned him a pair of raised eyebrows from you, and a remark already rolling off your tongue—but he cut it short. “Yes, now. Come here.” His head hung low, and only his hand made a beckoning gesture.

You smiled, disarmed by the black cat of Viktor, finally trying to scramble into your lap after months of teasing and playing around—head bumping and blinking at each other from afar. You walked up to him, your hands hesitant, as if this open display of need was unthinkable.

Before you could settle, Viktor snaked himself around you, his cane propped by the door, his frame bent and draped over you, leaning his body weight forward. It was the grabbiest, the neediest hug he had ever given—or that anyone had let him have. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, smashing his nose against your skin, and inhaled you deeply, through both mouth and nose.

His palms, open and wide, raked as much of your body in one go as they could. They slipped under your clothes, seeking the taut skin stretched across your back and shoulders. He wanted to go lower but could only squeeze.

You weren’t hugging him; he was hugging you. Caging you in his grip, controlling when the hug would end—and as far as he was concerned, not ever. You stilled under his touch, your hands resting obediently on his chest as he rubbed his face on yours, purring like a cat.

“Viktor?” Your voice was barely a whisper, bouncing off his mouth, an inch away from yours. “Would you like me to kiss you?” He sang his swan song in that moment, almost asking permission, granting you the illusion of control, the illusion of choice—when in truth, it was him silently begging for the kiss to happen.

“Would you like to kiss me?” Of course. A deflection. Nothing he wasn’t prepared for.

“I asked you first.” A cruel blow, almost childish. He pulled his face back a few inches to watch you wrestle with the indignity of the situation. The whine you tried to suppress at the loss of contact didn’t go unnoticed, and the snake in Viktor’s belly coiled its head up, smug and poised.

But then you did the thing he didn’t expect—twisting the serpent’s head off and tossing it aside with quiet defiance. You moved closer, nudging his chin with your cheek, your wide eyes pleading for his plea. His resolve shattered instantly.

He held you in place, his lips hovering just above yours. His whisper was longing, desperate. “Can I kiss you?”

A silent ‘yes.’ He only knew it was a ‘yes’ because he felt the movement of your lips on his—but he didn’t let you finish. He sank into your mouth with a disturbing, possessive urgency, pressing his tongue inside, licking your beautiful teeth, biting your beautiful skin.

He kept you locked in, pressing you down under the weight of his kiss. His mouth drooled into yours obscenely as he breathed heavily through his nose. It was the ugliest kiss he had ever given anyone—the ugliest anyone had ever taken from him. And yet, it was taken with such grace, such gratitude, that he wanted to give you everything else.

With inhuman strength, he pulled you both apart and placed his thumb on your lower lip, still glistening with his saliva. He traced it lazily, transfixed by the shimmering reflections on your skin. His heart swelled as he observed the redness blooming around the spots he had bitten. He wanted you bruised by his love—for everyone to see.

“What are you doing tonight?” Another plea, another promise, fell between you. Viktor cursed himself for being so open, so exposed. Because even though you knew nothing, you would understand this question.

“Watching Dexter and studying,” you said in an absent voice, your eyes following his, following the path of his thumb. The silence stretched between you, taut, until you felt the need to fill it. “Do you want to watch Dexter and study with me?”

“No.” The word escaped him in a croak, sung low and jagged, as if he had only just realised this wasn’t what he wanted at all. “Are you wet?” was all he wanted to know.

“What?” The word escaped you, surprised, almost appalled. Viktor braced himself for you to pull away, so he tightened his grip—but you didn’t. You just stared at him with those beautiful eyes on your beautiful face, your pupils dilating at the vulgar perversion of his question.

“I think you heard me. Are you wet right now?” He leaned in to whisper the filth into your ear, feeling his snake grow out a new head at the full-body shudder that went through you.

“What if I said no?” you asked shyly, your eyelashes brushing against his cheek.

“I would demand proof,” he murmured, holding the sides of your face as he poured his poison straight into your ear, his voice so quiet and rude that your eyes fluttered closed.

“What if I said yes?” You found some bravery in yourself, tracing your fingers along Viktor’s neck, just under the line of his hair. You smiled at the feeling of goosebumps rising under your fingertips. He couldn’t have this, of course.

“I would demand proof regardless,” he responded, his lips grazing the shell of your ear before licking it, slow and deliberate. He craned his head back to look at you. You appeared frightened and excited all at once, and if Viktor had no restraint, he would have run his fingers through your hair to soothe you. Instead, he placed a flat palm on your stomach, fingers pointing down, waiting for your permission.

He received a timid nod, but it wasn’t enough.

“Use your words.”

“You can check.” You closed your eyes and exhaled, as though allowing yourself to be judged for your crime. And as the crime was that of lust, Viktor, somewhere deep down, knew he didn’t really need proof, and that your punishment would be light. Because he didn’t truly want to punish you. He wanted to love you in an ugly way.

He slid his hand down, down beyond the waistband of your pants, down your lower belly straight to your womb, palming your cunt through the underwear and gasped, “Oh lásko, look at you.” His chest fluttered at the first touch, with joy and accomplishment, but also because he was right, when he slid the fabric to the side and ran his finger through your slit. Warmth dripped onto his fingertips, and he felt himself grow hard beneath the restraint of his own clothes.

“Do you really like me this much?” he cooed, so pleased that just one ugly kiss had managed to drench your knickers and make you feel so ashamed you nearly flinched away.

“Viktor—” You looked at the floor, your brows furrowed, your face burning from being so exposed, so naked. And you looked so, so beautiful.

“I am not mocking you,” he murmured, placing a reassuring hand on your cheek and caressing it gently. It was almost a praise, though he dared not say it yet. “What makes you want a cripple so much? Is it your heart that longs for me, your mind that thinks you can change me, or just your body?” he mused, revealing too much merely by asking.

You looked almost offended by how blunt he was about knowing what you wanted, just not knowing why. His fingers now parting you, playing at your entrance, teased you but you wouldn’t flinch. You just searched his face hesitantly and as Viktor grew tired of waiting, he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them, mercilessly bumping your wall, forcing you to flinch. He really wanted to see your eyes roll back into your skull, and he really wanted to hear his name distorted by a breathy moan.

“Which… would be the worst?” Your breath fanned his face as you steadied yourself on his shoulders. Truly, you weren’t ready for any of the options to be soured.

Viktor thought for a moment, his fingers slowly retreating, almost absent-mindedly. When his answer was found, he pushed back in, smiling innocently, his face moving close to yours. “The first. The second,” he mused, another slow, unbearably so, thrust. “I could fuck out of you. The third, well…” A gentle kiss on your lips, almost loving. “I see no fault in the third.”

“Of course, you don’t,” you scoffed, your grip on his shoulders tightening with each minute. “And what bring you back to me over, and ah,” a gasp escaped your mouth when Viktor brushed his thumb over your clit. You closed your eyes and evened your breath. “Back to me. Heart, mind or… body?” you asked, your brow furrowed in concentration against Viktor’s efforts to throw you off course.

“Which would be the worst?” He quirked his lips against yours and chuckled at another concentrated huff. He could feel your unrelenting grip on his shoulders, was convinced that it would leave a mark, and it made his cock twitch in his pants. To be marked by this gentle creature, a dream.

“Any of them, without the others,” you quipped, your eyes shut. Viktor’s movements stilled at that. You had managed to surprise him. Again. Of course, you would want to devour him as much as he wanted to devour you. Eat you whole, spit out the bones and build a shrine out of them. Ugly.

He retreated his hand and chuckled at the muffled whine that followed. He licked his fingers clean once your eyelids fluttered open, making sure you were watching. Rude. But he was going to kiss you with this mouth.

His hands snaked back up your spine, your body pliant against his, providing him with warmth. His teeth and lips got back to work on the swell of yours, and you fell right into it, mouth open, when his tongue pushed itself down your throat as Viktor began his meal. “I will die if I don’t fuck you,” he rasped. So fucking dramatic over nothing, over just a kiss and some unfinished fingering, and a clipped conversation about what he wanted.

He could abandon it here. He could walk out; he could sit on your bed and just study and watch Dexter. He could drink his tea, already cold, he could make you blush all evening, bid you goodbye and go back to his grimy room to jerk off and fuck off. But he couldn’t stop.

“Please, I’ll be so good to you,” he prayed to you, your hands so warm on his waist as he kissed you till he was out of breath. “You don’t know what you are doing to me.” Pathetic, moronic wail escaped him. And he knew you only grew wetter and wetter, your lips getting hotter on him. Panting, you pulled him by the belt and walked the two of you over to the bed, leaving Viktor with no other support than yourself.

He had never rid himself of his clothes so fast. Everything he had on, tossed and crumpled by the bed, next to your own little pile. All the layers of the second, the third skin abandoned, his brace, his pants, his boxers, embarrassingly soaked with sweat and precum, when he crawled on top of you just to keep kissing you and biting your neck, leaving nasty marks everywhere. He panted, his own breath betraying him as your skin came in contact and Viktor whined simply at his cock rubbing against your thigh and he wanted more.

“If you want to stop, tell me.” Another raspy, absolutely dishonest, but a proper plea, asking for the complete opposite. Please, never ask me to stop. “Do you understand?” You nodded, again—not good enough. Your eyes so wide, he could barely see the colour. When you were splayed flat below him, he could see your heart twitching, your chest contracting. A minuscule movement, but he could see it.

“Words, I need to hear your words, lásko,” he growled, stunned by his own impatience.

“I understand.” A kindness in your voice enveloped him. He slid you down the mattress by the ankles, his cock rested against your slit. With clumsy hands he put on a condom, stole a pillow from under your head to support his bum leg and adjusted his crooked crouch. You had the audacity to chuckle at the commonality of his movements and he bit your calf in response.

Absolutely unhinged, you hooked your foot behind his neck, and he immediately loved the weight that pulled him down, steadied him, as he teased your entrance. You held a breath; he had forsaken the privilege of air long time ago.

The first thrust was just blissful. He could feel the crease on his forehead relaxing, his mouth opening, his jaw hanging heavily, just joy and warmth, him awash in it. He felt so full, so complete, yet it was you who was full of him as your bodies slotted together easily, differently to the last time, which left him feeling awkward and ashamed and unfinished.

You rested your hands on his hips, gripping the sharp angle of his bones, your fingernails leaving crescent marks that he would run his fingers over in the morning. “You are doing so well,” he whispered in awe, and it was honest, and you loved it, he felt it in his cock getting squeezed in a silent gratitude.

He felt his ugliness leaving him with each pump of his hips, each sloppy sound of your bodies bumping against each other, his cock twitching inside you, and he needed one more thing to make this even less ugly.

He brushed his thumb over your clit, stretching it, teasing you and taking in all your huffs and puffs, your contorting stomach muscles, your tightening walls. A longing look and an echoing question followed. “Do you love me?”

“Viktor, don’t be cruel,” you answered so fast, he almost retreated. How could you think so? A childlike curiosity creeped onto his face.

“I am not. I really ought to know. Just say yes or no,” Please, just say yes. He felt you twitch at the question, and it made him think he was right. But he could have also been completely deranged. Brain burnt by lust and all the ugly things.

“Viktor—” you pleaded at the loss of his thumb on you.

“I can feel you. Yes or no?” A hard thrust, right up your guts. You yelped, and he could see the tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and the sight was something to behold, keep in the palace of his mind forever.

“Then, why are you asking?” You were ready for filth. For his erotic weirdness, for his awkwardness, for all the want he would suppress every time you interacted. You felt it all in his fleeting touch, in the warmth of his thigh when your naked toes rested against it idly, unintentionally, though very intentionally. But this was how you coax a cat. And this was not how cats responded.

“You will see,” he promised, more to himself. “Do you love me, now, in this moment, when I’m fucking you? Yes or no?” Another twitch of your cunt at ‘love’. He left himself unguarded, shielded only by the mould of your womb.

“Yes.” A tiny, shy ‘yes’. But it fell right into Viktor’s heart and there it grew into a big promise, and he would keep it and take care of it and cherish it.

His body bent in half, his mouth seeking yours. A sloppy kiss, painful, with teeth at your tender lip. Another, earnest, slow and careful. Another, quick and fleeting, before he found your ear. Between them, “I love you,” whispered back like a secret, like a prize for your struggle.

Your breaths grew frantic, you wanted to keep him close. You tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging him in, so you could lick the sweat from his neck, bite it and claim it. Your leg slipped onto his hip, and you curled it around him, his bone digging into your thigh.

“Do you see? How it feels?” he rasped into your ear, gripping you tight. “To be loved while being fucked? Tell me how it feels.” Viktor moaned with each of his thrusts, holding back getting harder and harder. His cock getting more swollen. Your walls getting tighter.

“Amazing,” you whispered, pulling his mouth back to yours. “I love you.”

Viktor’s eyes rolled back into his skull. He slumped onto you, his hands snaking behind your waist, and he could feel your sweat merging with his as your chests pressed together. “I love you,” he cooed weakly. “You can come now, lásko.”

He felt your thighs clutch on his hips, a long spasm twisting your spine underneath him. You came with an orgasm wrenching breath out of your lungs, leg bending, blinding. The ‘I love you’ falling from your lips over and over again, and Viktor could finally let go and spill all his ugliness out. He came with a loud moan seconds after, his brain fucked out, his heart swollen, as he came loved for what he was.

He held you tight through it, chests heaving, when he felt a quiver and wetness on his cheek. “Are you hurt?” he whispered.

You sobbed onto his chest, hands caged in his arms as you tried to release them and wipe the tears away. “No, no,” you shook your head. “What is this… feeling?” It had no name. For Viktor, it was a dumbing bliss. He could cry too if he wasn’t so warm.

“How do you feel?” He wanted to know what it was like on the other side. No one ever told him, no one ever shared this with him.

“Hollow. Ah… fuck. Empty,” you struggled to find the words, trying them out on your tongue, but they felt wrong. “I feel like you took something… bad from me. And now I don’t know what to do with the space left—” you gasped between sobs as Viktor rolled you to the side and pulled your hair to expose your neck.

You buried your face in the curve of his shoulder. Tears fell on their own, and Viktor wanted to drink them and cry them out himself. When the sobs transformed into clipped breaths, and clipped breaths transformed into one long exhale, you asked carefully, “Viktor, you don’t really love me, do you?”

“Well, do you really love me?” His chest was swollen, his head heavy. He was triumphant. He was so invincible he had it in him to love you.

Silence, for a while. Viktor nudged you gently with his chin and whispered a soft command, “Go to the bathroom, I’ll be here.”

You looked at him, the practicality of it spreading a strange warmth in your belly. Wordlessly, you got up and disappeared, still naked as day, and Viktor watched your feet shuffle in the creak of the bathroom door. He got up, put on his underwear, and drank his cold tea in one go.

When you got out, a relief glimpsed through your face, as if you were expecting him to be gone. He waited for you with a cup of tea and a clean sweatshirt, beckoning you to slide into it. Once you both had a singular piece of clothing on, he pulled you back into bed and cuddled sweetly into you. “How do you feel now?” he asked, running his fingers through your hair.

“I feel… like I really need you to love me right now,” you let it slide out. Even though your sweatshirt shielded you from the chill of the room, your soul was still completely bare and shivering. And Viktor loved this nudity, the weirdness of it, the feeling of belonging it gave him.

He found that is was his hands that were lingering now, that the tender thought of the morning coffee was no longer distorted by fear, the quiet and the silence became comfortable in a good way. He felt so wanted, so beautiful in your eyes. He felt all the right things and none of the wrong things. His ugly snake was skinned and turned into a beautiful object. In this beautiful space only beautiful words seemed fitting. “I really do love you right now.”

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation

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rmview · 2 days ago

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hard to handle | san, m.

summary: san, a cocky boxer with a notorious temper, meets his match in his resilient physiotherapist who refuses to quit despite his antics. he does a good job keeping you at a distance, but during a playful bout, unintentional feelings surface and cause things to get a little physical.

pairing: boxer!choi san x physiotherapist f!reader

genre: boxing!au, pwp, tension, smut

words: 4.1k words

warnings: explicit & messy & unprotected sex, mean!san, cocky dom!san, big cock!san, sub!reader, size kink, pinning/restraining, teasing, clothed grinding, biting, praise, marking, fingering, clit play, orgasm control, edging, handjob, penetrative sex, choking, tears, creampie, almost public sex (?) and voyeurism themes — they’re in a public room with the door unlocked, interruptions.

minors do not interact! | masterlist | more ateez content

“you’re not allowed to quit.”

the words came sharp and sudden, slicing through the air with the same precision san delivered in the ring. you froze mid-stretch, hands stilling over his sore leg. slowly, you turned to meet his gaze, confused by the uncharacteristic weight in his tone.

“…okay,” you replied cautiously, trying to gauge his mood.

san’s brow furrowed deeper, and the irritation etched across his face didn’t waver. “coach kim told me you were planning to leave,” he pressed, voice edged with something almost accusatory.

you blinked, letting his words settle. with how insistent and demanding san was, it wouldn’t have surprised you if that rumor had sprouted legs and started running. after all, you weren’t the first physiotherapist to step into this circus — and judging by the quick turnover before you, most had found the door far more inviting than the job.

but you stayed.

why? it wasn’t some deep-seated need to prove yourself or a traumatic past molding you into a masochist. no, it was simpler than that: the paycheck was solid, and once you learned to see past san’s gruff exterior and insufferable tendencies, he was just… tolerable. like dealing with an overgrown five-year-old throwing tantrums in the body of a professional fighter.

“well, coach is wrong,” you said, shrugging as you resumed your careful movements on his leg. your voice was calm, steady, not betraying the flicker of amusement rising in you at his sudden concern.

but san wasn’t convinced. his dark eyes narrowed as if searching your face for a crack, a lie, a tell.

“he said you’re thinking about it,” he countered, his scowl deepening. ��you can’t leave. i need you.”

it wasn’t romantic — far from it. his words came out firm, almost commanding, the way you’d expect from someone used to giving orders. someone used to winning.

still, something about this moment felt different. the commanding façade faltered ever so slightly, and there was a flicker of something raw in his voice. vulnerability, maybe? you weren’t sure. but it was there, buried under the frustration, and you couldn’t ignore it.

what was his deal? what was it about the idea of you leaving that got under his skin?

you paused again, letting your hands rest gently on his leg as you glanced up. his expression hadn’t softened, but you could see the edges weren’t as sharp. your lips twitched, a small smile creeping in despite yourself.

“are you sure coach kim wasn’t just teasing you?” you asked, your tone light as you tried to ease the tension. “you know, considering your, er, personality? because honestly, i haven’t thought about leaving.” even though it’s the saner option, you thought, but didn’t say it out loud.

san huffed, leaning back against the mat, his lips pressed into a thin line. he looked at you for a long moment, his jaw clenching before he finally spoke. “are you calling me a problem?” his voice was low, sharp, and cold enough to send a chill down your spine.

your breath hitched as his piercing gaze locked onto you, unrelenting and unreadable. his tone alone made your stomach twist, but it was the way his leg pulled away from your hands that had you stiffening. the dismissal in his actions was clear — he didn’t want you there.

“i…” you faltered, feeling the weight of his words press against you. “of course not, san. you’re not the problem.”

your voice was soft, careful, an attempt to diffuse the tension. but his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched, signaling that your words did little to soothe his frustration.

“then leave,” he snapped, turning his head to the side, arms crossing over his chest like a fortress. “i don’t need you.”

his dismissal stung more than you’d like to admit, but you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “i’m not going anywhere,” you replied, your tone hushed but steady, a small smile twitching on your lips. “i enjoy working with you too much.”

he scoffed, his lips curling into a mean sneer. “don’t bother lying, princess, you’re terrible at it.”

his words were biting, but the way he leaned slightly closer didn’t go unnoticed. he was testing you, waiting for you to crack under the weight of his intimidation.

“i’m not lying, i wasn’t lying.” you whispered, shaking your head. “just teasing…”

“well, stop it,” he growled, his voice dropping an octave. the air around you grew heavier as he glared at you. “it’s annoying. i don’t like it.”

“i know,” you murmured, your voice almost playful as you reached out, lightly brushing your fingers against his arm. “but that’s exactly why i do it. you’re kind of… cute when you’re like this.”

his eye twitched at your words, and the next thing you knew, he moved. with one swift motion, he shoved you back against the couch, his body towering over yours.

“cute?” he repeated, his tone mocking as he pinned your wrists above your head. his grip was firm but not enough to hurt, though the dominance in his posture had your heart pounding.

you stared up at him, wide-eyed and breathless, your cheeks heating under his intense scrutiny. “san…” you started, but your voice faltered.

he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours. “do you think you’re immune to being kicked to the curb just because you’ve been here the longest?” he murmured, his voice low and laced with warning.

your lips parted, a soft laugh escaping despite the way your body trembled under his. every part of you that he touched sent sparks flying through your veins, down your spine and between your legs. “you’d never. i’m your favorite,” you whispered, trying to mask your flustered state with a teasing edge, your words holding truth.

his expression hardened, but he didn’t pull away. instead, his grip on your wrists tightened slightly, his eyes boring into yours. “you wish,” he scoffed, though the slight hitch in his breath betrayed him. that and the subtle twitch of his cock in his shorts that you definitely felt from how you froze.

you weren’t sure whether to feel thrilled or terrified, but one thing was certain: you were treading dangerous waters, and san didn’t look like he was about to let you off easy.

“...this is a very risky, er, position,” you choked out softly, voice slightly strained. your gaze flickered between his narrowed brown eyes, to the door of the break room that you both were in, it’s door unlocked. your thighs rubbed together almost unknowingly and you resisted the urge to squirm. you were trapped.

“mhm.” san hummed dismissively, his gaze not leaving you. every twitch in your expression was noticed by him, especially the growing warmth on your cheeks and ears, that made him smirk. “and?”

“and coach could walk in...” you cleared your throat, mind fogging and something in the pit of your stomach clenching. you couldn’t imagine the look on the old man’s face if he walked in and saw you under the star fighter you were supposed to be healing. “it would be embarrassing.”

san chuckled, and your gaze snapped to his. it was mocking and you shivered — from fear or arousal, you didn’t know. “why? we aren’t doing anything... yet.”

“yet?” your heartbeat was wild, throbbing in your ears. you were sure san could hear it. if he was being so mean, he definitely could and was taking advantage of how meek you were. he knew you could never say no to him, not that you wanted to. “what do you — mmpf!”

the next thing you knew, you felt a tongue slipping past your lips, swirling inside your mouth. your breath was stolen from you, and with his free hand, san grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them to the couch, using his body to keep you in place.

it was a sloppy and dominating kiss. he explored and claimed every part of your mouth without pulling away. his body pressed against yours, and the kiss slowly grew more heated. his hand wandered down your sides, squeezing them softly for a moment before he pulled away from your lips, breaths mingled.

san studied your expression, eyes still narrowed in a cold glare. he smirked at how out of breath and dazed you looked, and pushed his knee between your thighs to part your legs. you were practically shaking and san didn’t even do anything yet.

“stupid.” he mutters out, tone rough and husky. leaning down to your neck, san began sucking on the sweet spot under your jaw that made you squeak.

his body pressed against you, almost uncomfortably, and you were practically trapped underneath him. your wrists were still pinned down, and you were hyperaware of every ridge and pane of his body on top of your curves. his broad chest, beefy arms, strong thighs and hard cock were suffocating you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

“you’re so stupid and cute, i could eat you right now.” he rasped, lifting his head to look down at you. his face was inches from your own. san looked obsessed.

you shivered at the unusual glint in his piercing glare, his smirk almost evil and you flushed. “eat me?”

“every last bit.” his voice was rough. a stark contrast to his actions. his hands would rub up and down your sides gently, his face still close.

a low and sensual growl spilled from between his lips as he kissed you again, lips rougher. he brought one of his hands up to thread into the hair at the base of your neck, tilting your head so he could have more access to your lips. his arm wrapped around your waist, tugging your body as close to him as possible.

everything was fine — as fine as san eating your face off could be — until you felt something long and hard press right against your clothed clit. “ngh... san!”

he merely chuckled against your lips, sharp teeth tugging your bottom lip, and then smoothing the sting with his warm tongue. “what?”

“i’m...” you started, but were unable to continue, gasping when you felt his hips grind against yours once more. small sparks shot from your clit to your spine, and you arched softly, voice a pitch higher. your pussy clenched around nothing. “...sensitive.”

“i know.” san groaned in your neck, and you felt his thick fingers of his free hand undo the drawstrings on your uniform scrubs. he silenced any of your gasps with another kiss, slipping his fingers into the front of your pants to push past your panties. you barely had time to register his next actions, until you felt the rough pads of his calloused fingers run over your quivering clit and folds.

your wrists were still held down with one of his hands as you moaned shakily, eyes squeezing shut. you felt san’s long fingers smear your slick all over the folds of your cunt, cursing lowly under his breath.

“fuck, you’re so wet.” he exhaled, his fingers circling your swollen clit and making you twitch. the feel of you writhing under him, feeling you squirm and hearing you moan, it only made san want more. he leaned down, his lips on your neck, nipping and sucking as he slipped a digit into your pulsing pussy, feeling your tight walls clench around him. “fuck.”

san gritted his teeth and, his body trembled with restraint.

“san... ah...” you squirmed softly as you felt his fingers pump and prod your spongy walls, gushing wetness the longer he stretched out your cunt. your eyes were glazed, and your arousal was dripping down his knuckles the longer he curled and scissored you open on the couch. “we... we shouldn’t be doing this.”

the sounds of your pretty voice, the feeling of your hips moving against his hand, the soft moans and gasps — san was losing himself in you. he added another finger, feeling the heat of your cunt around his digits, wanting to hear those sweet sounds of yours. “oh?”

“t-the door... it’s unlocked.” it was a miracle you could still think from how deliciously he played your cunt, but your ears were still hyperaware of the faint yells and sounds of sparring from the main gym. you throbbed around his fingers, almost in fear of being caught.

san grunted, reaching as deep as he could with the tips of his fingers before slowly pulling the digits out, and glancing down to see the way his skin glistened with your juices. “doesn’t matter.”

“but...” “but nothing.” san scoffed and sat back on his knees, undoing his shorts and pushing the cloth down along with his boxers so his hard cock sprung out. the veiny length was twitching and leaking precum from the angry red tip, and your flushed gaze was drawn to the sight while you rubbed your sore wrists. he used your slick smeared on his fingers to pump his hard cock, taking in the sight of you panting and sprawled half-naked on the break room sofa, thighs parted and folds glistening. “the only one coming in this room is you.”

your gaze met his smirking one and you tried to scowl softly, propping yourself up on your elbows shakily. “very funny.”

“i’m not done with you, princess.” san crawled back over you, pushing his face in your neck to nip at that spot that made you squirm, shifting between your legs.

you were so tired of him toying with you that you reached out to grasp his cock with your hands, experimentally stroking the hard length. your fingers couldn’t even wrap fully around the girth of his thick shaft, but that didn’t stop you. san let out a choked groan, his teeth gripping the flesh of your neck as you flicked your wrist at an agonizingly slow pace.

it was your first time fisting a cock and your hands were almost shaking. yet you loved the feeling of the large man practically turning into jelly above you from a few strokes. it only motivated you to try and squeeze tighter, pumping up and down, as your flustered gaze met his weak one. san was still trying to keep up his facade, but not for long.

san couldn’t hold back any longer. “that’s enough!” he hissed weakly, smacking your hand away and pulling you to lie back down on the couch, while he positioned the bulbous head of his thick cock at your entrance. “no more playing around.”

san was looking down at you, his eyes dark and focused, his body trembling with restraint that was held by a thread. he was so tightly wound and needed to cum now, before he actually lost it.

“o-okay...” your clit throbbed as he rubbed his cock against your wet folds a few times. your eyes were almost hazy from pleasure, and you pawed at the leather of the couch for stability. suddenly san couldn’t hold back any longer.

he grabbed one of your legs, to rest it over his shoulder, and pushed it up before he leaned over you, his body hovering above yours as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin on your neck. san’s hand gripped one of the small throw pillows for a moment, moving it underneath your hips, and then he slowly started to push his cock forward into your entrance.

as he sunk his thick shaft into your cunt inch by inch, the feeling of you clenching around him, the feeling of your breath catching in your throat, the way your body shook at the slow bottoming out — san’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head.

he grunted through his gritted teeth, his hand leaving the pillow by your hip to reach up and grasp your wrist, to hold it down again. san looked down at your face, his hips rocking slowly at first to get a feel of stretching out your small stretchy cunt, as his words came in short bursts. “god… ah… just like that…”

“san...” your voice was a soft breathless whimper, the sight of him above you making you quiver and clench more. all your dazed eyes could see was a beefy and sweaty san on top of you, jaw clenched and grunting, and you nearly came on the spot. “y-you... you... i hate you.”

he sight of you below him, so docile, flushed and soft, made his chest swell with something, his lips pulling into a slow mocking grin. “yeah?”

san was so desperate, so fucking hard at the thought of claiming you all night, to mark you and keep you under him. you had no idea how much he needed you. how could you, when he’d never said a word?

your cunt was so tight and warm. like nothing he’d ever had, or imagined in his long showers after training, eyes closed and fisting his cock for a quick release while he wished it was your cunt milking him instead. now, having you under him for real felt like a fever dream, and san’s hips had a mind of their own from the way his thrusts started to pick up pace.

“yeah.” your breath hitched softly, already forgetting your previous train of thought from the way san’s hips angled. the tip of his cock continued to repeatedly bully the spongy sensitive spot in you, making you see stars. “you’re so mean to me... all the time... a-and... and...”

you trailed off, eyes squeezing shut softly as you nearly found yourself cumming all over his cock. san was close too, and he just needed a few more thrusts before —

knock, knock.

fuck.

both you and san froze, and for a moment you felt your soul leave your body. whoever it was, could just twist the knob of the unlocked door and see you sprawled under san, with your leg over his shoulder, and his cock buried ten inches deep in your cervix.

“san, sparring practice in ten minutes!” coach kim called out cheerily from behind the door, unaware.

“we’ll be out soon.” san’s voice rumbled, and your wide-eyed gaze snapped to him, clenching almost in fear. san felt the twitch of your walls and glanced down at you, something almost evil lighting up in his eyes. “doc is still busy working on my bad leg, aren’t you doc?”

the color drained from your face when you felt san’s hips resume their thrusts, and you almost fearfully tried to push him away. shaking your head, you tried to stop him and whisper-yell, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to say a word without moaning shakily, so you stayed silent. something neither san, nor coach would let you do.

“is everything okay in there, doc?” coach kim asked, as you squirmed under san, his large palm holding your hip in place under him, and your ankle in place over his shoulder. his thrusts were still quick, aimed to make you and himself cum as soon as possible, whether coach walked in or not.

“answer him.” san’s lips brushed against your ear as he whispered hotly, smug. “you don’t want him to — fuck — come in, would you?”

it was hard to gather the courage to speak without screaming, especially when you opened your mouth, and the asshole above you took that as the exact moment to decide to rub your clit, coughing softly to disguise your noises. “i, uh, — ngh — we’ll be coming! in sometime... just... go on, coach... no need to — stop that! — wait up!”

you blurted between whimpers, trying to swat san’s wandering hands away as he pinched and rubbed all sensitive spots on your body, even dipping down to bite at your clothed nipples. you were still on edge as coach could walk in anytime, but that didn’t bother san. if fact, his hips pistoned into your cervix at a mind-numbing pace, all thoughts blown from your mind.

“you heard the man,” san grunted in your ear. his smooth skin was drenched in sweat, slight red marks left on his shoulders from your nails, and his brows were furrowed in concentration. “we have five minutes to finish.”

you let out a strangled noise when you felt the sudden onslaught of stimulation, his large palms grasping your hips as he fucked you hard. guiding your hips to match his, san made sure his hips were angled to fuck right up into your womb, smirking to himself when he noticed the slight outline of his cock bulging from your stomach. “t-there’s no way... that we can f-finish... in 5 minutes...”

“you wanna bet?” san rasped, forcing his mouth on yours, kissing you deep and slow, his own grunts and sighs barely muffled by his lips. san could feel you tightening around him, hear the breathy, soft pants coming from your lips.

how could he hold himself back when you responded so eagerly?

san pulled his lips away to look down at you, his hand leaving your leg to grasp at your throat, his calloused thumb resting on your jaw, and his grip firm. you looked so good under him like this.

“that’s it, princess,” san groaned, his hips pushing forward, his voice uneven from all the pleasure. he didn’t think he’d last the next 30 seconds, let alone 5 minutes.

but he wouldn’t cum before you. that would almost be insulting, making sure to use his free hand to fondle your swollen clit, bringing you to finish as soon as him.

“san!” you cried out, already feeling your release building. you tried to bite at your knuckles to keep yourself quiet and muffle all the whimpers and gasps that could reach outside the room. your nails dug into his biceps, eyes squeezing shut.

both of you were so close, san’s hips moving more erratically, and your body losing control. your voice was choked and a pitch higher, every noise you made streaming into soft sobs, tears blurring your eyes. you felt too good. “san... i’m gonna...”

san could feel your body trembling, your breathing getting shallower, and when you spoke, it only made him feel closer. he panted, his breath coming out in hot, uneven puffs, his nose rubbing against yours, his hand on your throat tightening.

“go on… squeeze that cunt of yours tight… i’m almost done.”

you didn’t need to be told twice, and when you squeezed so beautifully for him, san lost himself.

he came with a strangled groan, his movements stuttering, his hand squeezing on your throat for a moment. his eyes squeezed shut as white hot pleasure coursed through his veins, his mind blanking out and ears ringing. for a few moments, he thought he saw the pearly white gates of heaven, as he unsteadily pumped ropes after ropes of his hot cum into your pussy.

you could feel your insides being painted white while san grunted curses under his breath, the hot seed almost burning your walls. he made sure to thrust a few more times so his cum filled your insides snugly, fucking it deeper.

your overstimulated whimpers were what bought san back to reality, the ringing in his ears fading as he looked down at you, disheveled and naked waist down, his cock still buried deep in your cunt.

he was momentarily distracted by the sight of your puffy folds wrapped around the base of his cock, a creamy ring of cum around his shaft. he felt himself twitch, just barely suppressing the urge to fold you in a mating press and take you again.

“still hate me?” his voice was slightly strained. san couldn’t find it in himself to pull out yet. his gaze flickered down to your disheveled shirt stretched over your chest, and he couldn’t help but grasp your breast and squeeze. he’d play with them next time.

you were too out of breath to reply or swat his hand away, exhaling shakily as you slowly got down from your high. “i’m still deciding.” you needed a moment, or ten, to get your thoughts in order. “and you didn’t finish in 5 minutes, you took 8.”

“whatever.” san chuckled, nipping your cheek playfully.

he slowly pulled out, his muscles tired. but he wasn’t fast enough. because the next thing you knew, there was a soft click, and the two of you didn’t even have time to freeze, before the break room door swung open.

“san, you little shit, you’re late for — what the fuck!?”

author note: my first smut fic, yay! if this sounds familiar to you, it’s because this plot is heavily inspired by the love of my life, joo jaekyung from the bl manhwa jinx (he’s the best guy around)! please do interact and tell me what you think! also, i made the banner myself so pls show some love if you think it looks nice :3

tag list: @tsukisrants ; @dawn-iscozy ; @vixensss

410 notes · View notes

sam-dugesian · 21 hours ago

Text

[chugs energy drink]

okay, here we go.

👕Appearance

What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

their false eyes. (i'm not going to say the rude response. i know my followers want me to. but that wouldn't even be the right answer to this question)

What would your character wear if they were told they had to gussy up?

smart shoes (ankle boots), woolly ankle socks, work/casual shirt rolled up to the elbows, steam pressed dark grey smart trousers, and a smile that shifts type depending on how they wish to portray themselves.

Is there something about your character's appearance that they would change if possible?

hair, could do with some.

Does your character have a favorite material they like to wear?

cotton when in public, wool in private.

What are your character's opinion on scars?

every scar tells a story. yes, i'm aware my oc has no scars because they have a healing factor.

How much interest does your character take in trends?

none. in fact that's kind of the point.

Is there someone your character tries to look similar to?

i don't think so.

Does your character have a physical trait that they're known for?

they are hollow inside like a balloon. they can go flat and slot into places.

What does your character smell like?

petrichor. it's often mentioned.

If your character could splurge on a particular garment, what would it be?

cycling jerseys.

Is your character's favorite color a color they wear often?

yes.

Has your character gone through major stylistic or physical changes?

yes.

What is something your character would refuse to wear?

honestly, they have no shame. they'd wear anything if need be. when actively trying to work on manipulating people though, they tend to wear a chosen outfit for that.

Is there a style your character is afraid they can’t pull off?

i don't think they can really pull any style off. i don't think they even care.

Would your character wear something someone else picked out for them?

always.

Is your character's appearance more telling or deceiving?

BOTH! depends on who he's targeting.

What are your character's thoughts on wearing costumes?

preferably not hide the face, but anything goes.

Does your character have a favorite outfit?

sweater, pajama pants and slippers.

If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

if they didn't have a healing factor, it would be this.

📦Objects

Is there an item your character doesn't like to leave without?

nope. they pretty much just wing property in general. possibly just a bag to carry things in.

What gift would your character give to someone they didn't like but felt obligated to?

themself.

What type of object is likely to catch your character's attention?

people's shoes.

Is there an item your character liked that they can’t get back?

that's the plot of a future story.

Would your character ever try to haggle?

always. even if the price is clearly labelled.

What is something your character is proud to own?

nothing. literally. he's proud he's not dependant on material possessions.

Does your character ever spend more than they have?

no. they are very savvy with resources.

What would it take for your character to give up an item they really like?

that's the plot of a future story.

Does your character prefer to give or receive gifts?

give.

Is there a type of object your character doesn’t like?

things that are demoralising in nature. not in a sense of losing identity like a costume for kids. but things that say that a person belongs to someone. even a company logo on a uniform is a bit much.

What might an acquaintance think is a good gift for your character?

information about people my character is focussed on.

Does your character personify objects?

yes. constantly. often just to annoy others.

What does your character most enjoy shopping for?

secrets.

Is there an item your character is embarrassed they own or want?

friends.

Would your character prefer something bought or made personally?

always the personal touch.

Is your character willing to ask for things?

no.

What is most important to your character when shopping?

what other people are shopping.

🍽️Food and Drink

What flavor would your character say their personality is?

mint.

Would your character prefer baking, cooking or mixing drinks?

baking.

Is there a food or drink your character is unwilling to try?

salty snacks.

How big is your character's appetite?

they eat very little. their body mass is very low. they're hollow.

Does your character consider eating fun?

no.

Would your character eat or drink something they didn't like to appease someone?

always.

Is there food that has made your character sick?

salty snacks.

What is your character's favorite food group?

shellfish.

Does your character like to try new foods?

yes.

What is a childhood meal your character cherishes?

black pudding.

Is your character food motivated?

not at all. food is just sustainance.

Which mealtime is your character's favorite?

breakfast.

How much does your character care about wasting food?

a little more than he should.

Does your character prefer restaurant food or home cooked food?

home cooked.

What food or drink does your character consider a treat?

that's complicated.

Is there a food texture your character doesn't like?

hard.

What kind of drinks does your character prefer?

vegetable juice.

🌤️Weather and Nature

What would your character do if they were suddenly caught in the rain?

smile. probably resist the urge to dance.

Has your character had a meaningful encounter with an animal?

always.

What season would your character say they're most similar to?

spring.

Is there a natural phenomenon that scares your character?

droughts.

Has your character ever had an animal phase?

i think he's living one right now.

Would your character enjoy sky gazing?

he already does and far too much to the annoyance of those around him.

Does your character have a good sense of direction?

he has a very clear plan on where he's going. not only can he understand the landscape, he can even predict what kinds of buildings are where in a city.

What type of environment does your character like best?

wet.

Is your character good with animals?

extremely. almost to the point of appearing telepathic.

How would your character react to snow?

think it looks nice, but would rather not.

What part of nature would your character most resonate with?

small rivers.

Could your character survive in the wilderness on their own for a week or more?

where do you think they came from? that's their bread and butter.

What element best represents your character?

air.

Does your character prefer hot or cold weather?

cold.

Is there a creature that scares your character?

cone snail.

What celestial body would interest your character the most?

orion.

Is your character good with plants?

ridiculously good to the point people think he has plant magic.

How willing would your character be to nap outside?

you'd be better asking them to try and nap inside for once.

What animal would your character say best represents them?

human.

🤝Community and Relationships

Does your character prefer company or solitude when sick?

company. they like to study people. they get bored when alone.

What is your character's favorite kind of social event?

movie release. get a front seat, sit backwards in their chair, and watch everyone's reactions to the movie.

How comfortable would your character be singing and dancing in front of others?

too comfortable.

Is your character upfront about their feelings?

no, but they lie very well.

Who would your character first seek if they needed medical help?

their friend John. he's a doctor.

How willing would your character be to go to a party with people they don't know?

too willing.

Who is your character most honest with?

i'm still trying to figure that out.

How likely is it for your character to initiate a friendship?

too likely.

Where is your character's comfort place?

someone-else's sock drawer.

Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?

yes.

Does your character have people they think would worry about them if they got injured?

many.

How would your character react to being put in a position of leadership?

they'd probably be the first person to suggest the idea.

Would your character be good at providing medical assistance?

weirdly competent.

Who would your character say knows them best?

they wouldn't answer that question. but they would be thinking of their rival Sam Wamm.

Is there a person your character would turn to for backup in a fight?

you'll have to wait and see.

Who would your character most want to sign their cast if they got one?

Sam Wamm. just curious about what he'd write.

How well does your character work with others?

too well.

What is your character's favorite form of affection?

sitting near someone-else.

Does your character enjoy celebrating holidays?

they can take it or leave it.

What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

not much.

💓Mind, Body and Soul

What is a habit your character has that others might find cute?

wiggling his whiskers.

Are there particular sounds your character is fond of?

bass guitar.

Is your character more prone to fight or flight?

fight. in fact that's a serious issue.

Does your character believe in myths and fairy tales?

considering they're a literal mythological creature? they are somewhat of a dreamer, which, side note, is actually really rare for his kind.

What words could tear your character down?

nothing really. in fact that's probably his best asset. he doesn't value language that highly.

How well does your character act under pressure?

he's calm, focussed and practical. it's when things are calm that kills him.

Is your character good at practicing self-care?

i'd say 50:50. it depends on the details.

What scents does your character find comforting?

i.. don't.. know.. i feel like i should. i feel like that's something he's been hiding.

Does your character have any allergies?

salt.

Is your character a light, medium or heavy sleeper?

super light, though he often fakes sleeping.

Does your character have strong willpower?

too strong.

Is your character more likely to give advice or seek it?

neither.

How does your character relax?

leaning over a ledge and watching people go about their lives below.

Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

yes.

Does your character have a sleep routine?

no.

Would your character feel confident in a fight?

too confident.

Is your character more energized in the morning, afternoon or at night?

night.

How often does your character have nightmares?

no comment.

Are there scents your character dislikes?

no comment.

Is there a fear your character wants to learn to overcome?

yes. and i don't think it's possible. it relies on others acting a certain way. which i'm sure they won't.

If your character had to act in a play what role would they think they’d best perform?

pretty much any role. they'd prefer one in the background. where they can watch everyone else.

Does your character have a high pain tolerance?

yes. and let me be specific. they don't lack an ability to sense pain. they have just learned how best to deal with it.

🎲 Hobbies and Activities

What kind of games does your character most enjoy playing?

mind games. truth or dare.

Does your character have a secret hobby?

yes.

What is a talent your character wishes they had?

the ability to be by themselves.

Is there an activity your character used to enjoy that they now dislike?

most activities.

Which does your character try to prioritize more, work or hobbies?

work.

Does your character work better with creative or technical endeavors?

inter-personal.

What is a talent that your character is proud of?

cloning himself.

Is your character more outdoorsy or indoorsy?

outdoorsy.

What is a topic your character would be excited to talk about?

you.

Is there a skill your character doesn’t know they’re bad at?

loneliness.

Does your character have any injury stories?

lots.

What kind of music does your character enjoy?

edm.

Has your character ever made something for themselves or someone else?

yes and yes.

What is your character’s opinion on cheating in games?

they like to be challenged.

How good is your character at following through on projects?

too good.

What’s an activity that reminds your character of someone else?

no comment.

Does your character prefer music or silence?

music. but better yet chatter.

What is a topic your character wouldn't want to talk about?

no comment.

🌸My Super Long Hopefully Fun Character Ask Game:

👕Appearance

What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

What would your character wear if they were told they had to gussy up?

Is there something about your character's appearance that they would change if possible?

Does your character have a favorite material they like to wear?

What are your character's opinion on scars?

How much interest does your character take in trends?

Is there someone your character tries to look similar to?

Does your character have a physical trait that they're known for?

What does your character smell like?

If your character could splurge on a particular garment, what would it be?

Is your character's favorite color a color they wear often?

Has your character gone through major stylistic or physical changes?

What is something your character would refuse to wear?

Is there a style your character is afraid they can’t pull off?

Would your character wear something someone else picked out for them?

Is your character's appearance more telling or deceiving?

What are your character's thoughts on wearing costumes?

Does your character have a favorite outfit?

If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

📦Objects

Is there an item your character doesn't like to leave without?

What gift would your character give to someone they didn't like but felt obligated to?

What type of object is likely to catch your character's attention?

Is there an item your character liked that they can’t get back?

Would your character ever try to haggle?

What is something your character is proud to own?

Does your character ever spend more than they have?

What would it take for your character to give up an item they really like?

Does your character prefer to give or receive gifts?

Is there a type of object your character doesn’t like?

What might an acquaintance think is a good gift for your character?

Does your character personify objects?

What does your character most enjoy shopping for?

Is there an item your character is embarrassed they own or want?

Would your character prefer something bought or made personally?

Is your character willing to ask for things?

What is most important to your character when shopping?

🍽️Food and Drink

What flavor would your character say their personality is?

Would your character prefer baking, cooking or mixing drinks?

Is there a food or drink your character is unwilling to try?

How big is your character's appetite?

Does your character consider eating fun?

Would your character eat or drink something they didn't like to appease someone?

Is there food that has made your character sick?

What is your character's favorite food group?

Does your character like to try new foods?

What is a childhood meal your character cherishes?

Is your character food motivated?

Which mealtime is your character's favorite?

How much does your character care about wasting food?

Does your character prefer restaurant food or home cooked food?

What food or drink does your character consider a treat?

Is there a food texture your character doesn't like?

What kind of drinks does your character prefer?

🌤️Weather and Nature

What would your character do if they were suddenly caught in the rain?

Has your character had a meaningful encounter with an animal?

What season would your character say they're most similar to?

Is there a natural phenomenon that scares your character?

Has your character ever had an animal phase?

Would your character enjoy sky gazing?

Does your character have a good sense of direction?

What type of environment does your character like best?

Is your character good with animals?

How would your character react to snow?

What part of nature would your character most resonate with?

Could your character survive in the wilderness on their own for a week or more?

What element best represents your character?

Does your character prefer hot or cold weather?

Is there a creature that scares your character?

What celestial body would interest your character the most?

Is your character good with plants?

How willing would your character be to nap outside?

What animal would your character say best represents them?

🤝Community and Relationships

Does your character prefer company or solitude when sick?

What is your character's favorite kind of social event?

How comfortable would your character be singing and dancing in front of others?

Is your character upfront about their feelings?

Who would your character first seek if they needed medical help?

How willing would your character be to go to a party with people they don't know?

Who is your character most honest with?

How likely is it for your character to initiate a friendship?

Where is your character's comfort place?

Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?

Does your character have people they think would worry about them if they got injured?

How would your character react to being put in a position of leadership?

Would your character be good at providing medical assistance?

Who would your character say knows them best?

Is there a person your character would turn to for backup in a fight?

Who would your character most want to sign their cast if they got one?

How well does your character work with others?

What is your character's favorite form of affection?

Does your character enjoy celebrating holidays?

What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

💓Mind, Body and Soul

What is a habit your character has that others might find cute?

Are there particular sounds your character is fond of?

Is your character more prone to fight or flight?

Does your character believe in myths and fairy tales?

What words could tear your character down?

How well does your character act under pressure?

Is your character good at practicing self-care?

What scents does your character find comforting?

Does your character have any allergies?

Is your character a light, medium or heavy sleeper?

Does your character have strong willpower?

Is your character more likely to give advice or seek it?

How does your character relax?

Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

Does your character have a sleep routine?

Would your character feel confident in a fight?

Is your character more energized in the morning, afternoon or at night?

How often does your character have nightmares?

Are there scents your character dislikes?

Is there a fear your character wants to learn to overcome?

If your character had to act in a play what role would they think they’d best perform?

Does your character have a high pain tolerance?

🎲 Hobbies and Activities

What kind of games does your character most enjoy playing?

Does your character have a secret hobby?

What is a talent your character wishes they had?

Is there an activity your character used to enjoy that they now dislike?

Which does your character try to prioritize more, work or hobbies?

Does your character work better with creative or technical endeavors?

What is a talent that your character is proud of?

Is your character more outdoorsy or indoorsy?

What is a topic your character would be excited to talk about?

Is there a skill your character doesn’t know they’re bad at?

Does your character have any injury stories?

What kind of music does your character enjoy?

Has your character ever made something for themselves or someone else?

What is your character’s opinion on cheating in games?

How good is your character at following through on projects?

What’s an activity that reminds your character of someone else?

Does your character prefer music or silence?

What is a topic your character wouldn't want to talk about?

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ateezscupid · 3 days ago

Text

drunk sex with san ♡

When San asked you if you wanted to have a few drinks at his apartment, you had no idea what you were in for. You two had been friends for a while, or friends with benefits actually. It was a situation that suited you both just fine. You didn't need the complications of a relationship, not now, not ever. But tonight felt different.

He was sloppily kissing your neck. The both of you had far too many drinks and the room spun like a carnival ride. Whenever you guys would drink together before, it was usually just a casual hook-up, but tonight there was something more urgent about it. It felt more…passionate.

"San," you moan, fingers tangled in his hair as you grind your hips back and forth. His hands grip your waist tightly, guiding you in a delirious dance of pleasure. The alcohol had unleashed something within him, something fierce and primal that you've never quite seen before. His eyes, usually so playful, now burn with a serious intensity that sends a thrill down your spine.

You stopped the movement of your hips, his cock nestled deep inside of you. You both froze for a moment, lost in the intensity of your shared gaze. San's grip tightened, and you felt his breath hot against your skin as he whispered into your ear, "Is this what you want?" The question was loaded, and you knew it wasn't just about the sex.

"You're already inside of me…" You mumble. "Doesn't that answer your question?" San chuckles, his teeth grazing your earlobe before he sucks it into his mouth. The sensation sends a jolt through your body, making your toes curl. You're both drunk on desire and the scent of alcohol lingering on each other's breath.

"Y'know that's not what I meant," San says, his voice thick with emotion, pulling back to look at you again. His eyes are searching, looking for something in yours. You realize he's not just asking for consent; he's asking for something deeper. Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a sudden soberness wash over you.

"San-" You sniffle and pull him into a hug, burying your face into his neck. "I don't…I don't know."

"Baby, please," He mumbles, grabbing your hips and beginning to move them again, his dick sliding in and out of you with a desperation that makes your stomach flip. You can feel his heart racing, his pulse pounding in your ears as he holds you tightly. It's like he's trying to tell you something without words, his movements speaking for him.

"I'm scared," you whimper, the words slipping out of your mouth before you can even think to hold them back.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered, moving your hips with a gentle urgency that seemed to melt your fears away. His kisses grew softer, more tender, as if he was trying to reassure you with every caress of his lips. You felt his breath warm against your neck as he kissed you, his teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin, making you shiver.

"I would never hurt you." You swore you could see hearts in his eyes. "I just want you to be mine. Please." His words were a gentle plea that hit you like a wrecking ball. You felt the walls around your heart cracking, threatening to crumble under the weight of his sincerity.

"Please, princess."

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez hard hours #ateez fanfiction #san smut #san x reader #choi san #dom!san #dom san #dom!ateez #dom ateez

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cheralith · 2 days ago

Text

childhood bestfriend!kaiser who accidentally finds out who you gave your first kiss to after being under the impression you still had it.

sure, you both were reaching an age where most people had already kissed another, been bedded, under-age drank, but kaiser never took you as the type to be so… promiscuous (“your dad was okay with it?” he had asked. “why the hell would i tell my dad about that.” your eye roll had never been louder.)

it was apparently some classmate you had dated briefly back in early high school, a time where you had both were barely able to see each other since kaiser spent some time in jail after being framed and after being bailed out by his manager, spent the majority of his time in his team’s training clubhouse. it didn’t help that it was quite a few towns away from your own, so communication grew weary between you and him during that time.

so when you and him finally reconnected and began to settle down with each other once again at an older age, where you and him were blooming into college, he’s amazed to see how much you had grown during the past few years, how your featured had matured into themselves so elegantly that sometimes, when you weren’t looking, he’d examine each bit of your features to get a proper look.

it was a little difficult attempting to gain a proper stance from him, since all the training at bastard mündchen had clearly done a work on him both good and bad, but when kaiser felt himself relaxing more and more with each frequented interaction with you—he’s brought back to when you were both children and didn’t know any better of the world around you.

so imagine his shock when you accidentally let it slip out that your first kiss went rather wrong as you and him are watching some sort of foreign sports movie where the main character’s long-time love interest finally kisses him.

“god i remember my first kiss,” you say casually, making kaiser snap his neck towards you so fast.

first kiss? you had your first kiss already? before he did???

sure, kaiser had a good amount of fans that flocked to him every chance they got and perhaps he’s done a little bit of entertaining to them, but even so—he still hasn’t necessarily had such a moment shared with another. he never felt like he needed to focus on it… never felt like it was some deed worth prioritizing becoming the best striker… until now.

“huh?” kaiser shuffles in his place and furrows his brows tightly, a vein barely visible from his forehead. “whaddya mean first kiss? with who? when?”

the questions shoot out all at once, you can’t help but laugh at kaiser’s (supposed) curiosity. you suppose the suspense of knowing what happened to that runt he met at eight years old has experienced since his arrest.

“oh, it was just a classmate from one of my sophomore classes,” you wave a hand, as if it was completely nothing to hold much regard to.

kaiser twitched, his eyes flickering towards your ripened lips. “and you gave him your first kiss?”

“probably my last too,” you sigh out wearily, “haven’t really had much people interested in me since then.”

he fell silent, going to scan your face again once more as you fixated your gaze to the tv, circling in on your lips again that give a soft pout. he twitched.

“he got too excited and ended up moreso clashing his mouth on mine—we ended up clacking teeth pretty hard,” you snort out as you stare in quiet amazement at how tender and soft the tv’s couple’s kisses were. “it ended up hurting too much to try and continue.”

you bite your lip, concentrated. “i dunno, i just wish it was more slowly, more… in-the-moment.”

kaiser twitched once more. noticing your wistful gaze at the movie playing in front of you and him. he flickers his eyes toward the intimate scene that you seem so focused on. he pays attention to how the lips of the two characters flow in a certain rhythm and how they meld into each other. they seem loose, relaxed, and that lack of tension made the kiss seem much more romantic.

he thinks back to some of how his teammates greet their girlfriends with kisses, or how he’ll just see a random couple locking lips with each other in the bars his team and him tended to as a celebration of a victorious game. kaiser had never felt a compulsion to experience such a thing, but there’s a strange magnetic feeling he’s getting that tugs him closer to you that is very much not his own rationale’s doing.

he says it with too much confidence. he says it like he’s done it numerous times before, like he’s a master at it, despite never even paying such avid attention to another’s lips until now. so kaiser doesn’t know why, but he suddenly blurts out,

“then let me show you a proper kiss.”

#i want to say he has some sort of unique corruption kink of sorts 🙂↕️#god hes such a good character for this trope #merely since i want to dissect how he’d behave since hes not your typical shojo nonchalant cool guy mc #i cant get rid of him chldhd bestfriend kaiser has infected me #blue lock #bllk #michael kaiser #kaiser #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock fluff #kaiser fluff #bllk ; michael kaiser #itoshi rin #seishiro nagi x reader #ego jinpachi #isagi yoichi #blue lock x reader

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captain-bubble-wrap · 2 days ago

Note

I WANT MORE SICK QUINN PLEASE

Okay, babes! More sick Quinn it is!

"Oh baby, you look awful."

"Good morning, to you, too," Quinn answered, his eyes half open. His voice sounded like he was talking with his nose pinched closed. You knew when he went to bed last night he was getting sick; you had heard it through the phone. So, when you got the message this morning that he needed you to come over, you made a stop at the pharmacy before his apartment. And it was a good thing, too.

He was on the sofa, legs pulled up to his chest with a blanket draped over his head and wrapped around him like a sick Halloween ghost. His colour was off; washed out and grey-like, and he was breathing out of his mouth with a rattle in his chest.

"I'm sorry," you replied softly, removing your shoes and coat at the door. The lights were off when you had got in, but you didn't question it. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I look: awful, apparently."

Hurting his feelings wasn't what you had wanted to do, but it was too late for that now. "I shouldn't have said what I did. I didn't mean for it to--"

"It's fine." Quinn's tone was sharp and flat and he wasn't looking at you. Those two little words had stung, causing you to remain at the door longer than you should have, hesitant to go any further. After a moment, realizing that your words meant nothing and that he wasn't going to apologize either, you grabbed the two bags you had brought with you and walked into the kitchen.

From across the island, you could see him sitting on the sofa, his head never moving to look over his shoulder at what you were doing. It was like you weren't even there. He was sensitive, you knew that, but this was the first time he had been so irritable.

With the lights off and all of the floor-length curtains drawn, it was near impossible to do what you needed to by the light of the television in the other room.

"May I turn the lights on?" You asked, hoping he wouldn't find a reason to get moody over a simple question.

"Sure," he said, still just a flatly as before. Quinn pulled the blanket further over his head before slumping over onto his side, like he was trying to hide from the impending light.

His apartment's lights were all on dimmers, so you made sure the kitchen one was on the lowest setting possible before flipping the switch. Light sensitivity: migraine, and the possible reason for his shitty mood. Hurrying, you unpacked everything that you had bought before shutting the light off. You remembered the range hood had a light and one that wouldn't affect him anymore than the tv he was in front of, but at least you would be able to see what you were doing. You looked back towards the sofa where Quinn was still wrapped up tight. Knowing you had to talk to him, you buried your pride, and went back to the living room.

"Migraine?" You asked him, your free hand touching his shoulder through the blanket, rubbing his back gently.

"Yeah."

"Will you look at me, please?"

After what felt like the longest moment, Quinn revealed his face from his private blanket fort. "Why don't you sit up and take these? It will help with the headache. And I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean for it to come off like it did."

He didn't say anything at first as he forced himself back up. He would take the two pills and water from you and you would leave him alone. Back in the kitchen, you kept your back to him, your arms crossed. You had wanted to make things easy on him today, but now you wondered when he would tell you just to go. Things felt like they were spiraling faster than you could set them right. All just because of one poorly placed comment; one that you didn't mean to come off as serious.

You were so deep in your own thoughts, you hadn't heard Quinn shuffle from the living room to where you were in the kitchen. His reaching out to touch your arm had startled you and he withdrew his fingers immediately.

"Sorry," he mumbled, still draped with the blanket.

You glanced at him for only a moment, "You're fine."

"I don't feel good," Quinn sighed, stepping forward a couple steps to stand right in front of you. He leaned forward to lay his head against your shoulder. He felt hot with fever, and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him.

"I know you don't, baby."

'I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"It's okay."

Quinn leaned his entire body weight against you, like he was trying to find comfort in any way that he could. Your fingers would trail up and down his back until he decided to move.

"Everything hurts," he confessed, his eyes pleading for an answer as to why he felt so bad.

"Can you tell me what you're feeling?"

"Uh, the migraine. I can't breathe. My throat is sore. I'm coughing up green stuff. My body hurts so bad I could seriously cry. I'm cold yet I'm sweaty. I don't know what's going on with me."

His voice had never sounded so pathetic the whole time you had known him, and it hurt you to hear him struggling with so much.

"Have you taken a Covid test yet?"

"No."

"It wouldn't hurt to take one."

"Okay," he whined, pulling himself from your body as you allowed your arms to fall away from his. "I don't know if I have any left."

"I grabbed some this morning," you remembered, looking through things to find the box. "Here."

Quinn tore open the kit. He fumbled with the contents before finally swabbing his nose and applying it to the test kit. Despite having been so close to you just moments ago, realizing that he could have Covid had made him stand a ways away from you. It didn't take long for the test to read positive, making his fears worse.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his eyes falling closed with a sigh.

"Honey, it's fine. These things happen."

Quinn looked over at you, eyes heavy with guilt. "I probably just got you sick."

"I'm not worried about that," you reassured, your hand touching his cheek after closing the gap between you both. "I could use a few days off from work anyways."

"I didn't want you to get sick. I shouldn't have messaged you to come over."

"Shh, baby, baby, baby," you soothed. "I'll be okay."

He paused, "I've got to tell the team."

"Why don't you go get into bed, message Rick, and I'll deal with all of this stuff, okay?"

Quinn only nodded and slowly took off towards his bedroom. From the open door, you could hear Quinn on the phone, relaying the news of his positive test and that he would miss the next game slotted for tomorrow evening. The call didn't seem to last very long, and you'd enter the room after you were positive he was off the phone, so as not to interfere.

"You didn't have to wait out there," Quinn spoke, once you joined him. "It wasn't anything that important."

"I know, but it wasn't my business," you smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," he remarked, "Just have to do what I did before. He wants me to re-test in four days and go from there."

Reaching forward, you smoothed his wild curls and felt his forehead again making sure you hadn't imagined the fever. However, he was still quite warm to the touch. Quinn searched your face for reassurance before asking you anything.

"Is it bad?"

"Your fever? No, I don't think so. Hopefully it breaks soon, which should make you feel a lot better. Let me go get you some more water, okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, pulling the duvet up around himself with a bit of a struggle.

"I just feel like shit," he said with a sigh, his congestion somehow sounding worse just before he had a sneezing fit.

You weren't gone but a minute, but when you came back, he was looking at you like you had forgotten him for hours.

"What's wrong, Quinn?" You asked him, putting a few bottles down on his nightstand.

"Oh, bless you, sweetheart."

"Ugh, I'm so over this." Quinn blew his nose before falling back into his pillows.

You frowned, running your hand through his hair, standing beside his side of the bed. "I'm sure you are. I'm sorry."

"Would you lay down with me, babe? Since I've already probably given it to you..." He dropped off, feeling bad about asking you to come over.

Smiling, you leaned down to kiss his forehead one more time. "Of course. Do you need anything else before, though?"

"No," he said, pushing back the blankets to make it easier on you to find him beneath the layers. "Just you."

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey oneshot #hockey x reader #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic

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beesandwasps · 2 days ago

Text

When I got to be a senior at St. Leon’s College, I was given my very own studio. It was a tiny room in a creaky old wooden shedlike building. Here I was to work on my senior project, a series of woodblock prints. I found, left behind by previous inhabitants, a dangerous electric percolator and a squawky old radio. I loved having a studio of my own, and spent most of my time there. I’d arrive at ten or eleven at night and stay till dawn, chiseling away at my woodblocks, swilling black coffee, and listening to the all-night hillbilly station. At sunrise I’d stroll to my room, where I would sleep until lunchtime. I had signed up only for classes that met in the afternoon, and I had time in the evening to socialize and study before retiring to my little workshop. The rest of the college would be sleeping when I was at work, and I had no distractions. I was getting a lot accomplished. It was an ideal routing, and I was happy. It was during this period that the President of the United States was assassinated. Today, documentaries and news retrospectives emphasize the shock and grief felt by the nation — but I also remember the fear and confusion that closely followed the event. At first it was unclear whether or not the assassination was part of a coup or insurrection. News reports were vague and fragmentary. There was speculation as to whether our country’s enemies might not take advantage of the confusion of the moment and attack us. I hovered near the radio and learned of the capture of Oswald and later of his murder before the news cameras. Lyndon Johnson had been sworn in as President. Harry S. Truman flew to Washington, and from the airport, broadcast a statement assuring the country that the orderly succession of government was intact. It was two or three days before the feeling of panic and uncertainty died down. And the whole time, I was listening — while carving away at woodblocks, because there was nothing else to do. I was realizing that events can become ugly with a terrifying suddenness — and that I, personally, had nothing to contribute in times like these. There were advisors in Southeast Asia. There was a wall in Berlin. We had nearly had a nuclear war over missiles in Cuba. People were being fire-hosed and police-dogged in the South. Now someone had knocked off the First Citizen of the Republican — and I was learning to do what? I was learning to make things for rich people to decorate their apartments with. I felt useless and stupid. As the assassination hysteria subsided, I continued to come to the studio, but it seemed to me an empty exercise. Worse, a mockery. In times like these, the last thing needed was a little more art. Then, one 2:00 A.M., a fellow student dropped in to see me. Jerry Schwartz was his name. I knew him by sight, but had never spoken with him. He had something to tell me. It seemed Schwartz had gone through a period of living the life of a swine. He had been in the habit of coming home drunk at approximately the same time every morning. And every morning, he’d see the light in my studio, and through the window, me, doing… he didn’t know what, but there I was doing it. He felt that here was at least one person doing something probably constructive — anyway, functioning. It somehow meant to him that there was hope for him too. In the parlance of Alcoholics Anonymous, the image of the light in my studio window had become his higher power, had kept him from despairing, motivated him to try to straighten out — and, as he told it, may have prevented his taking his own life. I thought he was probably exaggerating, but I couldn’t take the chance. Now I had to show up every night, and work on my woodcuts in order not to let down this formerly miserable Schwartz. I didn’t see Schwartz again, but I finished out the year and got my degree. And gradually I became convinced that the best way I could address the big evils of the big world would be to keep chipping away and something comparatively small.

— Daniel M. Pinkwater (from Chicago Days, Hoboken Nights)

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papaya-twinks · 19 hours ago

Text

a kids’ fairytale - l.n - p.2

Warnings: single!father, single!mother, swearing, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex, anxiety, picking nails/skin

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Having a child so young hadn’t exactly been Lando’s idea of a fairytale, but what happened next, well, more suited to his kind of story ✨

other parts

Why?

Why, why, why had Lando given you the wrong name?

He could have just told you who he was, dealt with the “oh my god, you’re Lando Norris?!” for a bit, and then maybe had a friendship.

But no, he’d lied. And now here he was, staring at your message, dread lining his sculpted features.

“Heyy! You can bring Honey round ours today, we should make it a weekend thing! As soon as your renovations are finished, we’ll switch it up x”

God, what was he supposed to do on race weekends?

And even more so, the occasional times when the camera would pan to his daughter, how could he possibly even fathom trying to explain that.

What if you hated him and made Alec stop being friends with Honey - the amount she’d gone on about him clearly showed she’d be distraught if that would happen.

Was he overthinking this? Probably. Was he panicking? Absolutely.

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“Daddy,” Honey said, sitting on the bed beside Lando as he braided her hair, carefully intertwining her brunette curls.

She had insisted on matching with Lando, both of them in black joggers and a black hoodie, along with some white trainers.

“Honey,” Lando said, pushing his stresses to the back of his mind.

“I’m gonna take some of my toys,” she said, as Lando nodded absentmindedly. He wasn’t really listening, nor paying attention as she stuffed toys into her bag - one of them being her little McLaren car.

“C’mon, Y/N said 11, we have to leave now,” Lando said, tying her laces and leading her out the door.

“Who’s Y/N?” Honey said, letting Lando take her rucksack.

“Alec’s mum,” Lando said, shoving his phone into the back of his pocket and walking beside his daughter.

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You had a humble home. Not big, nor small, not fancy, nor plain. Comfy and cozy.

Yet, still a big contrast to his place, big and fancy and typical of a multi-millionaire. Sometimes, he definitely regretted choosing this life style.

“Hi,” you smiled, opening the door and giving Honey a wave.

“Hey,” Lando said, clearing his throat and trying to act cool as he took in your outfit, a pretty black dress and some heels. Cute.

“Come on in,” you said brightly, leading Lando into the living room as Alec and Honey went to speak and play.

Your house was cozy - with candles, and plants, and some of Alec’s toys on the sofa.

“Sorry about that,” you said, moving the toys out of his way as he sat down, accepting the cup of tea from your hand.

Well, at least now he felt like a proper parent, sitting with another and drinking tea.

“…Oscar?!” you snapped your fingers in front of Lando’s face.

You’d clearly called that name multiple times, to no avail. Shit, Lando needed to get used to that name now.

“Uh, sorry, zoned out,” he lied, sipping on his tea as you nodded, that pretty smile still on your face.

“So, uh, Alec and Honey get on well,” you said, “but tell me about yourself, then, what d’you do?”.

Ah shit. “I’m an…engineer, fix cars and stuff,” Lando said, lying through his damn teeth, but you bought it. He almost felt bad.

“Nice,” you smiled, “I’m boring,” you laughed, “still in Uni,”.

“Uni? What are you studying?” he asked, leaning forwards, clearly more happy to know about you then he was to talk about himself.

“Art History,” you said, “boring old Renaissance,”.

“No, it’s cool,” Lando said honestly, “it’s unique but in a good way,”.

“That’s what my mum said when I got accepted for that subject,” you said as Lando snorted.

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Surprisingly, Lando wasn’t hit with a ton more questions, and you two got on quite well.

The tension had broken and it seemed like it was now Lando’s life mission to see how many times he could pull out that damn gorgeous laugh.

Just when he was about to crack another joke, he felt Alec tapping on his leg.

“This is cool,” he held up a McLaren model car, Lando’s face paling. Fuck.

Honey was beside him, blissfully unaware of her father’s nervousness as she nodded.

“Look mama,” Alec handed you the car.

Double fuck.

“This is cool,” you said, admiring the little orange car, and looking closer.

“Where’d you get it?” you smiled, looking down to Honey as she looked proudly at the car. “My daddy bought it for me,” she said triumphantly.

“Mama, can I get one too? Then me and Honey can match!” Alec smiled.

“Maybe, maybe, I’ll look into it,” you said as Honey grinned. “Did you know, it’s actually dad’s-?” she started.

“Yeah, it’s my friends,” Lando lied, slowly nudging Honey to go back to play with Alec.

She frowned but said nothing, as Lando shoved the car back into her bag.

You were awfully confused the whole time - it was just a car, yet Lando seemed so…defensive. Weird.

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“C’mon Honey, time to go,” Lando said, beckoning his daughter down the stairs as Alec peeked shyly from behind your leg.

Your son always did seem to go rather shy when he was around Lando.

“Me and Alec baked these,” you held out a little box of cookies as Lando gave you a smile.

Shit, this meant he’d definitely have to come back.

“See you Monday,” you said as Lando waved to Alec, giving you a one-armed hug as he led his daughter from the house.

“Daddy, Alec really liked my car,” Honey said proudly, “can we bring your helmet or your Miami trophy next time to show them? You show everyone!”.

That made Lando freeze.

“Darling, we can’t…we can’t just show her,” Lando tried to explain, “she doesn’t know who we are, and we can’t go around showing normal people these things,”.

Honey frowned, digesting the words.

“So…So I’m not normal?” she asked, her eyes glazing over as Lando froze.

“What? No, darling, you are normal, of course you are, I didn’t mean it like that…” he groaned silently as he watched her eyes fill with tears.

Great.

He’d upset his daughter, dug his hole of lies 10x deeper and almost fucked up a decent friendship with another parent.

And all in one day too, surely must have been a record for him.

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And so, Monday begrudgingly rolled on by, the little ‘being normal’ debate long forgotten as Honey excitedly rushed down the stairs.

If she’d been excited the first day for school, she was definitely something else today.

“C’mon daddy! I wanna tell Alec all about the racing!”.

Lando groaned. “Sweetie, look,” he said, kneeling down in front of her, “we can’t tell people about my racing,”.

“What? Why, you literally have it filmed on TV-,” she started.

Why the hell did she inherit his attitude? God.

“Listen,” he said, putting on his stern voice. He really did hate using his ‘stern’ voice, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“You are not to tell Alec about the racing, because we don’t want people to go all over us and start harassing us, okay?”.

“Fine,” she mumbled, crossing her arms.

He hated this. He hated being angry at his daughter for his own mistakes, and telling her off.

But he had no choice

He hated to admit it, he hated that it had been, what, barely a week? And he already liked you.

A lot more than he, as another parent should, but he couldn’t help it.

You were so pretty and nice and kind and you’d clearly raised your son well.

Whether he could say the same, he didn’t know. Honey wasn’t spoilt or unkind or anything Alec wasn’t, but sometimes he felt may he could’ve done things differently.

Or, should have done things differently, that is.

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“Hey,” Lando smiled, wearing one of his hoodie and joggers sets again, the hood pulled over his head.

“Hi,” you smiled, watching as your son and his daughter went to talk together, or, well, Honey talking and Alec listening.

Just as Lando opened his mouth to speak, he was interrupted by a rather excited woman standing behind him.

“Hi, uh, can I get your signature please?” she held out a little notebook as Lando swallowed the lump in hid throat, catching the confused look om your pretty face.

“Sure,” Lando said monotonously, signing it before turning back to you with a forced laugh.

“Sorry. One of those faces,” he said.

The same excuse he’d given last time. For goodness sake, this wasn’t going to plan.

You didn’t question it, just moving on your conversation.

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“Hello?” Lando asked, answering the phone, an unknown phone number on the screen.

“Hello, Mr Norris? I’m calling from your daughter’s school,” the voice said.

What the fuck? What had she done?

Sweat was starting to form on the back of his neck as he cleared his throat, nodding his head and waiting for the voice to continue.

“We’ve taken her to the office, she’d been holding and showing other students a sort of…trophy?” the woman stuttered.

Trophy…? Trophy.

Shit. How had he not noticed the damn trophy missing from the cabinet?!

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“This goddamn girl,” Lando grumbled to himself as he rushed into the office, seeing a very grumpy Honey standing with her bag and the damn Miami trophy beside her.

“Darling!” Lando hissed, “what are you doing?”.

He didn’t have time to hear her answer as the teacher tapped him on the shoulder, a concerned look on her face.

“Sir, she’s not allowed to bring items such as…this to school,” the woman said, looking entirely bemused as to the trophy and its importance.

“I’m aware, I’m aware,” Lando said, “I didn’t know she’d bring it, honestly,”.

“We highly recommend you check your daughter’s bag before she leaves,” the woman said.

And Lando hated that. Hated how he she looked at him like he didn’t know what he was doing.

And in all honesty, he didn’t!

He had no clue, but he didn’t like people hinting that he didn’t.

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“Daddy! Are you mad?” Honey whined as he held his hand, his grip tight round her small hand.

“Yes!” Lando said through gritted teeth.

How she’d managed to stuff the trophy into her bag, he didn’t know. That, and the fact half of it was sticking out her bag too.

“Daddy, I just wanted to show Alec and I might have showed a little more-,” Honey started.

“Honey,” Lando snapped, “just..don’t, okay?”.

And to make matters worse, he’d heard your voice behind him, calling out his name. Or rather, ‘Oscar’s’ name.

“Just keep walking,” Lando told himself, his free hand balled.

But you’d caught up. “Hey,” Lando said, putting a fake smile onto his face.

“What happened? Alec mentioned Honey and some trophy- is that it?” you looked at the metal trophy dangling from his hand.

“Uh yeah,” Lando said, swallowing the lump in his throat again.

“Can we…speak?” you asked, letting go of Alec’s hand. Shit, Lando was fucked.

“Cool trophy,” you nodded, stepping away from the kids, “so, um, is there…anything I need to know?”.

“About?” Lando said, his voice unnaturally high.

“Anything,” you said, sighing, “maybe, you know…where the hell you got that trophy from?”.

“I used to do football as a kid,” Lando said, turning the trophy in his hand so you couldn’t see the ‘1’ embezzled on the front.

“Oh, right,” you nodded, seemingly buying his lies. And he felt so fucking horrible.

“Well, text me when the renovations are done, and we can come round,”.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 #lando norris x you #lando x reader #lando norris smut

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leehsngs · 2 days ago

Text

prompt: you intentionally rile him up to get him to be a little rougher with you.

pairing: park jongseong x f!reader

genre: oneshot

warnings: smut [mdni!!], unprotected sex (put a rubber on it!!), degredation, praise, p in v, pet names, provoked mean dom!jay, slight bratty!reader.

disc. lowercase intended. not proofread. @choisanswife this is for you shawty 🫵🏻😼

now it’s not like your sex life with jay wasn’t absolute heaven on earth, but some nights you wish he would be just a little rougher with you. so tonight of all nights, you decided it’d be a good idea to poke and prod at his nerves just to see how far you could take his patience.

“y/n, not now.” he uttered while batting your hand away gently. that only caused you to groan.

“oh, come on, jay. it’s not like i’m asking for much. it’s just.. you took so long getting me to cum that i felt like i was dying.” it was a dramatic statement on your part, but you could tell it was getting under his skin and that’s exactly what you wanted.

his brow darted up as he slowly turned to you, a slight mumble leaving him, “oh really?”

and the next thing you know? you’re bent over the back of the couch with nothing but your panties around your ankles and his cock buried deep inside you. there was nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin and your pathetic whines of pleasure.

“this is what you wanted, right? to be my little fuck toy? hm?”, he grabbed you by your throat and pulled you up off the back of the couch, hovering his lips by your ear so you could hear every grunt that left him.

you nodded because that was all you could do. he was finally being rough with you and you loved every second of it.

your hand reached behind you to grip onto his waist because you wanted to feel him, wanted to let him now just how well he was doing. he knew that though. if it wasn’t for the way you clenched around him and the whimpers that left you then maybe he’d be a little curious, but he knew.

“f- fuck.. baby, i’m cumming-!” and that was all jay needed to relentlessly pound into you even harder than he was before, tightening his grip on your throat and wrapping a hand around to circle your sensitive bud at the same speed he was thrusting.

“go on, pretty slut, cum for me. make a mess on my cock.”

that was enough to push your over the edge, your body trembling as the coil in your stomach snapped and you came all over his cock just the way he wanted.

he looked at your slumped over figure with a chuckle, pulling out of you right as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, “let’s get you cleaned up, angel. you were so good for me.”

“i love you.”

“i love you more, darling.”

despite how bratty you could be, he never left you unsatisfied. never once and that was something you absolutely loved about him.

author’s note. i literally thought of this idea at 4 am due to personal experiences rip. this is also my first time writing something like this so feedback is very much wanted and appreciated! hope you all enjoyed!

#🪽. anna’s works #── .✦ leehsngs #enhypen #enhypen oneshots #enhypen smut #park jongseong #park jay

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wordsmeetwbb · 2 days ago

Text

The Chains Stay ON

Word count: 3.1k

Content: smut

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: This is my first attempt at writing smut and tbh I think it turned out really good but like. It's also pure filth that I wrote at 2am and edited this morning so consider this your warning. As always, let me know what you think!

________

Azzi couldn’t stop staring at Paige. She knew she was being obvious, she knew people online would clip this entire event and dissect every interaction, but she couldn’t help herself. Paige looked fucking incredible.

The team had gone to a Connecticut Sun game tonight, and Azzi truly felt bad about her lack of attention to the actual game thus far. Somehow, she had gotten through the whole bus ride to the arena without interacting with Paige, but that ended quickly as the team took their seats, with Paige plopping down in the seat right next to Azzi.

Azzi’s eyes had a mind of their own, roaming over Paige’s face, down to her arms, her chest, and always dragging back to her neck where two silver chains rested. Azzi swallowed thickly.

“Hello? Az, are you even listening to me?” Paige snapped her fingers in front of Azzi’s face. She blinked, startled out of her visual perusal of Paige’s body.

“Uh, yeah? No. What?” Paige snorted.

“You’re so not locked in right now. If you were looking at me I would be like, fine, whatever, but you’re not! Pay attention to me!” Paige complained. Azzi swatted her arm.

“Oh, hush. I pay you plenty of attention. If you really loved me, you’d give me a break and go whine to somebody else for once.” Lies. Azzi was lying through her teeth. She didn’t want Paige to go anywhere. She wanted the blonde to stay in the seat right next to her so Azzi could continue to stare at how those silver chains rested against her throat, draping down to sit between her collarbones. She blinked again, trying to pull herself out of the Paige-induced haze so she could actually listen to her girlfriend.

“Hey, what’s up with you? You’re not listening to me,” Paige whined again. Correct. Azzi hadn’t even realized Paige was still talking. She was too busy looking at her to practice active listening. Azzi blushed. Paige’s eyebrows raised.

“You gonna tell me, or do I have to pry it out of you?” Azzi sighed dramatically, slumping back into her seat. Against her will, her eyes wandered right back to Paige’s neck. She wanted to kiss her way down the skin there hard enough to leave bruises where the chains rested. The brunette crossed her legs, too aware of the warmth between them.

Paige looked down at herself, trying to follow Azzi’s line of sight. Azzi sighed loudly again, blushing a deep, embarrassing shade of pink. Paige was so adorable when she was confused, but she needed her to understand faster so she didn’t have to explain what had her so hot and bothered.

“Paige,” Azzi said firmly.

“What? Baby, I don’t know what you’re looking at. I just know you’re blushing real pretty right now and I want to know why.” Azzi couldn’t stand it anymore. She looked Paige right in the eyes, fisting her hands in her lap so they wouldn’t get any ideas and reach up to touch the chains that were taunting her so badly. She took a deep breath, taking a little glance around to make sure none of their teammates were listening too closely to what they were talking about.

“You look… really hot with those chains on,” Azzi mumbled, face flushing an even darker shade of red.

“Baby, what? It’s loud as hell in here, I didn’t get any of that.” Azzi wanted a sinkhole to open up under Mohegan Sun and swallow them all so she didn’t have to repeat that sentence. Lord knows Paige’s ego didn’t need to hear it twice. She wished she could just whisper it into Paige’s ear, but the chance of somebody in the crowd recording it was too high. She groaned and leaned only slightly closer to Paige.

“You look hot with those chains on,” she said, with more volume in her voice this time. She wasn’t letting there be any chance of Paige making her say it a third time.

A hint of surprise fluttered over Paige’s face, but it was quickly replaced with that all-too-familiar smirk. Azzi would never tell Paige, but it made her squeeze her legs together just a little bit tighter.

“You like them, baby?” Paige murmured, voice somehow loud enough for Azzi to hear her over the noise of the arena. It made her think that Paige definitely heard her the first time and just wanted to make her suffer. Azzi gave up and let her head fall into her hands dramatically. Paige poked her shoulder, waiting for confirmation. Azzi knew that being in public was saving her from having to reply for real. She nodded into her hands.

“Hey, come back up here. I love it when you blush like that for me. So pretty, baby.” Azzi was going to die in Mohegan Sun at the ripe age of 21. She took a deep breath, praying that she had composed herself enough for the whole world not to know just how turned on she was right now. She straightened back up, trying to pretend like she was paying any kind of attention to the basketball game.

“There you go, good girl.” Azzi whacked Paige on the knee.

“Stop it. Stop or I’m gonna do something inappropriate in a very public place with lots of cameras, and then we won’t be private or a secret,” Azzi hissed. Paige just laughed. The audacity of this girl to look the way she did, get Azzi all turned on, tease her in public, and then laugh? She scowled at Paige. Paige shut up.

“Az, wait, I’m sorry for laughing. You’re sitting here all turned on, staring at me, and I’m being an ass.” This is genuinely one of the worst apologies Azzi has ever heard. The lack of amusement on her face must be as obvious as it feels because Paige starts backtracking.

“Azzi, baby, look at me. Please.” Azzi doesn’t have it in herself to disobey. And who is she to pass up a chance to look at Paige right now? God, she looks sinfully good.

“I shouldn’t have laughed at you. That’s my bad. I’m gonna make it up to you, I swear,” Paige promises, looking very sincere. Azzi raises her eyebrows skeptically.

“How are you gonna do that?” She questions. A grin spreads across Paige’s face.

“You said you like the chains, right? Got you all wet and needy?” Azzi wants to protest, but Paige isn’t wrong. “I see you with your legs crossed, ma, you’re not subtle.”

“I’m not seeing how this is you making anything up to me-” Azzi starts, but Paige interrupts her.

“You want me to fuck you with the chains on, baby?” Fuck. Just the words have Azzi absolutely dripping. She almost lets a whimper slip out, but clamps her mouth shut at the last minute.

“Yes,” she whispers. Paige looks entirely too satisfied with the way this conversation has turned out. Infuriatingly, it just turns Azzi on more. Damn this woman.

“Didn’t know the NIL money would come with this benefit,” Paige muses. Azzi is in her own personal hell.

“I need you to shut up. Immediately. Yesterday,” Azzi demands. Paige snorts.

“Yes, ma’am.”

________

Azzi doesn’t know what Paige told Jana and Allie or where the two girls went upon the team’s return to campus. Frankly, she doesn’t care. All she cares about is that Paige’s bedroom door is locked swiftly and the apartment beyond it is empty.

Paige is on Azzi as soon as the door is closed, shoving her up against the wood and trailing kisses from her mouth to her jaw to her neck. Actually, it’s more like Paige licking her way down Azzi’s skin. Either way, it feels incredible.

“Please, please,” she mumbles. She’s already begging, although she’s not entirely sure what for.

“Shh ma, just hold on. I’m gonna get you right, don’t you even worry,” Paige reassures Azzi against her skin. Something about it reminds Azzi of her thoughts from earlier. She lifts her head away from the door, trailing her eyes down to where Paige is mouthing at her collarbones, just above the neckline of her tank top. In a feat of pure willpower, Azzi flips their positions so Paige is the one pressed against the door. Paige gasps and immediately starts to protest. “Just shut the hell up,” Azzi demands as she begins to place wet kisses across Paige’s jaw. Her skin is warm and Paige smells so good, as she always does. Azzi’s mouth reaches the hinge of Paige’s jaw and she nips at the skin softly, not hard enough to bruise. Paige groans.

“God, baby, feels so good. Mark me the fuck up.” Azzi pushes her surprise away in favor of getting back to work. Who would she be to pass up a rare opportunity to claim her girlfriend? She bites a little harder at the spot from before, then licks over it with her tongue when Paige moans. Encouraged, Azzi makes her way down Paige’s neck, sucking in some places and biting in others, until Paige’s neck is riddled with red and purple splotches and covered in Azzi’s saliva.

Azzi finally pulls back to look at her handiwork, incredibly satisfied with herself. Paige looks desperate. Her neck glistened from Azzi’s mouth, her pupils were blown so wide her blue irises were barely visible, and she had tugged her hair free from the bun it had been in. She’s panting, staring at Azzi with unrestrained want. Azzi lets her focus go back to Paige’s neck. The silver chains glistening there really do look pretty against the newly mottled skin. She swallows, letting her hand drift up to play with the metal, warmed by Paige’s body.

Paige seems to have finally had enough teasing, because the next thing Azzi knows, she’s on her back in the middle of Paige’s bed.

“Off, off, I want these off,” Paige is saying, hands pulling at Azzi’s clothes. It’s not like she was wearing much of anything to begin with, just a tank top and a pair of too-short denim shorts, but within seconds the fabric is gone from her body, leaving her only in a pair of lace panties. The cool air makes Azzi shiver, nipples perking up from the chill.

Paige’s focus zeroes in on her tits, tongue immediately coming to lick over one nipple, hand squeezing the other gently, then pinching the nipple. Azzi gasps. It feels incredible, but this is not what she’s been thinking about all day. She tugs Paige back up to eye level, bringing their lips back together. Paige’s tongue is immediately against Azzi’s, but Azzi is mumbling demands.

“You gotta get naked too,” she whines, voice far more breathy than she wants it to be, but if Paige didn’t already know how needy she was, Azzi had bigger issues than what she sounded like. Paige’s clothes were off in seconds, leaving her in boxers and her sports bra. And those irresistible chains, of course. Still more clothes than Azzi in just her panties, but definitely an improvement.

Paige’s hand came down to Azzi’s stomach, fingers brushing over her abs teasingly on their way down to where Azzi was aching for her.

“Paige, please,” she pleaded.

“Please, what, baby? Gotta tell me what you want.” Azzi was going to cry if Paige didn’t touch her in the next five seconds. It’s that desperation that makes her give in immediately. She doesn’t have the willpower to resist Paige today.

“Touch me, please baby. Need your fingers on me, please, please, need it so bad-” Azzi cuts herself off with a moan when Paige presses her fingers over Azzi’s clothed clit. Her eyes roll back, but fly back open when she feels cold metal bump against her chin. “Fuck. Oh, fuck.” It seems to be the only word she can remember as Paige’s chains dangle in her face.

“There you go, baby. Is that better?” It’s not, really. Paige isn’t moving her fingers, and she’s still not really touching Azzi. Just that teasing presence over the fabric of her panties. Azzi bucks her hips against Paige’s hand in an effort to get what she wants.

“Is this not enough, baby? I’m touching you. What do you want?” Azzi is going to scream if Paige keeps this cocky attitude up and doesn’t fuck her like she needs. She almost gets sassy with her response until Paige moves her fingers against her clit, rubbing slow little circles over the fabric. Azzi groans, so hopelessly soaked through her underwear that the lace is practically see-through.

“Fuck. Please, Paige, please just fuck me. I need your fingers inside, please. Gotta feel it, need it, please.” She sounds pathetic, she knows. Paige doesn’t usually make her beg like this, but god, being forced to say exactly what she wants is doing sinful things to Azzi.

“I got you, good girl, so good begging for me,” Paige praises. Azzi’s head flops back onto the pillow and she immediately misses the light presence of the chains in her face. It’s quickly forgotten as Paige pulls Azzi’s panties off, throwing them somewhere to the side of the bed in favor of quickly slipping one finger into Azzi’s pussy.

“Fuck, baby, so wet for me. You feel that?” Paige already sounds like she’s going crazy, her voice hoarse and low. Azzi can barely focus on the words the blonde is saying. She’s too busy squirming closer to Paige’s hand, trying to get that singular finger deeper inside of her. She needs more and Paige is too busy talking to give it to her.

“Shh, honey, just relax. I gotchu, you know that,” Paige soothes, leaning down to press soft kisses to Azzi’s lips. The action drags the chains against Azzi’s face in the most delightful way. It almost makes Azzi miss the way Paige’s finger starts to move inside her, dragging out and then pushing right back in slowly. She moans desperately, still wiggling against Paige. She needs her deeper, faster, more fingers, anything.

“More, please, Paige, I can take another,” she begs. Paige finally obliges her, sliding another finger in alongside the first and continuing to fuck in and out of Azzi’s pussy. Azzi moans. One of her hands drifts up, tangling in the hair at the nape of Paige’s neck. Then it drifts down, sliding over the fresh hickeys on her throat that are getting darker by the minute. Her hand finally comes to rest on the silver chains, fingers wrapping around the strands of metal just for something to hold onto. Her eyes won’t leave the way they gleam against Paige’s skin, swinging back and forth as Paige’s arm moves.

Between her legs, Azzi can feel her wetness dripping onto the bed. She knows Paige’s hand is probably drenched, and that mental image only makes her wetter.

“There you go, baby. Doin’ so good for me, taking me so well. Fuck, look at you. Fucking soaked, Az. Can you hear that?” Paige takes a break from her fuck-drunk rambling so Azzi can hear the sound her body makes when Paige’s fingers slide in and out. It even sounds like she’s drenched. Azzi throws her head back on the pillow again, pulling Paige’s chains right along with her. Paige follows her down, licking a stripe up Azzi’s neck while she’s there.

“Gettin’ close, ma?” Azzi nods desperately, feeling her stomach get tighter with every stroke of Paige’s fingers into her sopping wet center. “Fuck, yeah, I know you are. Squeezing me so tight, baby. Just sucking me up. Need me that bad, right baby?” Paige’s thumb drags circles around Azzi’s clit. She lets out a high whine. Paige has yapped for every minute of her life, she’s sure, but the absolute filth she’s saying right now has Azzi teetering right on the edge of her climax, biting her lip, and her stomach tenses.

“Let go, Az. Just relax and let yourself cum. All over me, baby, come on. Want it dripping down my hand. Please, I know you’re almost there.” Paige’s words, begging her to come, combined with the feeling of her damned silver chains dragging against Azzi’s throat now that she’s released her grip on them, send her over the edge.

Azzi cums with a cry, high-pitched moans and Paige’s name falling from her lips. Paige fucks her through it, fingers still moving inside her, thumb still circling her clit until Azzi is trembling from overstimulation, begging Paige to stop.

“Please, please, too much, Paige-” Azzi pushes Paige’s hand away from her, collapsing against the mattress, panting as she tries to recover. When she forces her eyes open to look at her girlfriend, Azzi finds Paige already staring at her. Her pupils are still blown wide, her body glistening with sweat, her hair messy (probably Azzi’s fault), and she thinks Paige has never looked hotter.

“What?” Azzi demands softly. “I’ll get you in a minute, don’t worry,” she promises. Paige shakes her head and melts into Azzi, wrapping her in her pale arms.

“Did so good for me, baby. So good,” she mumbles into Azzi’s collarbones. Azzi’s hand comes up to brush through Paige’s hair gently, a smile falling onto her lips, blushing lightly at the praise. Paige was starting to crush her under her weight, but it felt so good that she kept quiet, one hand moving down from Paige’s hair to stroke up and down her back.

“Hey, let me take care of you now,” Azzi said, starting to roll herself out from under Paige. Paige just tightened her arms.

“In a minute. That was so hot. You’re so hot. Everything about that was just… really insanely hot. I think I’m buffering. Give me a minute,” Paige mumbled into Azzi’s skin. Azzi laughed, bringing a hand to Paige’s chin and tilting her face up to meet her eyes.

“That was really hot,” she agreed. Paige grinned.

“I should wear chains more often,” she mused. Azzi groaned, letting Paige’s face drop back into the crook of her neck.

“I swear, I can’t tell you anything.” She complained. Paige just laughed, and Azzi couldn’t do anything but laugh with her. Of course Paige would give her the best orgasm of her life and her takeaway from the experience would be fashion advice. Azzi couldn’t argue with the idea, though. She sighed.

“As long as the chains stay on during sex,” she agreed.

“Hell yeah. High five, dude.” Azzi groaned and pushed Paige away.

“Shut up or I’m not helping you get off.” Paige shut up.

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #women's basketball #uconn #pazzi #pazzi smut #paige bueckers smut #azzi fudd smut

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