#and i’m worried i won’t get enough replies in one day
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dissapointu · 3 days ago
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“Flickers in the Shadows” Jinx x reader
The warehouse was cold. The kind of cold that seeped into your bones, no matter how tightly you wrapped your coat around yourself. Your footsteps echoed faintly on the metal floors as you approached the far end where a dim, flickering light pulsed like a dying heartbeat.
She was there. Of course, she was there.
Jinx sat cross-legged on a workbench piled high with scrap metal, wires, and half-finished inventions. Her pink braids were unkempt, falling in uneven loops around her face as she hunched over a small, dismantled grenade. The faint hum of her muttering reached you before anything else. You couldn’t catch the words, but they were frantic, staccato bursts.
“Jinx,” you called softly, hoping not to startle her.
Her head snapped up, wide eyes glowing in the dim light. For a moment, she looked at you like she didn’t know who you were, her fingers tightening instinctively around the grenade. Then recognition flickered across her features, her grip relaxing.
“Oh,” she said, her voice a lilting mix of relief and suspicion. “It’s you.”
“Yeah, it’s me,” you replied, stepping closer. “You’ve been holed up here for three days. I was worried.”
Her lips curled into a half-smile, half-sneer. “Worried? What, you think I can’t handle myself?”
You stopped just short of her, your hands raised in a placating gesture. “That’s not what I meant, Jinx. You know that.”
Her gaze darted to the side, and you knew what was coming before she even said it.
“Do you, though?” she murmured, her voice softer now, almost childlike. Her fingers tapped nervously against the grenade. “Do you really know me? Or are you just pretending like everyone else?”
Your heart clenched. This was a familiar refrain, but it never got easier to hear. “I know you, Jinx. I see you. The real you.”
She laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. “The real me? Hah! You mean the screw-up? The freak? Powder the weakling, or Jinx the psycho? Take your pick.”
“Stop.” Your voice was firm but gentle as you reached out, your fingers brushing hers. “You’re more than those labels. You’re you. And that’s enough.”
For a moment, she let your touch ground her. Her eyes met yours, softening. But then something shifted, a shadow crossing her face. She pulled away abruptly, clutching the grenade to her chest like a lifeline.
“They don’t think so,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial hush. “They’re watching. Always watching. Laughing at me, waiting for me to mess up again.”
You followed her gaze, seeing nothing but empty shadows. Your throat tightened as her paranoia curled its tendrils around her. “Jinx, there’s no one there,” you said carefully.
“They’re always there,” she insisted, her voice rising. “They talk to me. Don’t you hear them?” She tilted her head as if listening, her expression flickering between confusion and rage. “No… no, don’t say that. Shut up!”
Her outburst made you flinch, but you didn’t back away. “Jinx, it’s just us. There’s no one else here. Please, look at me.”
She did, but her gaze was wild, unfocused. “You don’t get it,” she hissed. “You never get it. They’re always there! Vi- the old crew, they—they won’t leave me alone! They just—” Her voice broke, and she gripped her head, trembling. “They won’t stop.”
Your heart shattered at the sight of her unraveling. You wanted to reach out, to hold her, but you knew how unpredictable she could be in this state.
“Jinx, listen to me,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “You’re not alone. Whatever you’re hearing, whatever you’re seeing—it’s not real. But I’m real. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
She froze, her breath hitching. Slowly, she lowered her hands, her wide, tear-filled eyes meeting yours. For a moment, the fragile mask she wore cracked, and you saw the scared, vulnerable girl beneath.
“You always say that,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “But what if you leave, too? What if I mess up, and you decide I’m not worth it?”
Her words cut deeper than any blade. “I’m not going to leave you, Jinx. I promise.”
Her lips trembled, and she looked away, her hands twisting the grenade absentmindedly. “Promises break,” she whispered.
“Not this one,” you said firmly. “Not with you.”
Silence hung between you, heavy with unspoken fears and fragile hope. You dared to step closer, gently prying the grenade from her hands. She didn’t resist, letting you set it aside on the workbench.
“Jinx,” you said softly, cupping her face in your hands. “I see you. All of you. And I’m not afraid.”
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought she might break. But then she laughed—a choked, broken sound that sent a chill down your spine.
“You’re stupid, you know that?” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Stupid for trusting me. Stupid for staying. Don’t you see? I’m a ticking time bomb. One day, I’ll explode, and you’ll be the one who gets hurt.”
“Then let me help you disarm,” you said without hesitation.
She stared at you, her eyes wide with disbelief. Slowly, she leaned into your touch, her body trembling. “You don’t know what you’re signing up for,” she murmured.
“Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I’d rather face it with you than lose you.”
For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Then, she collapsed against you, her arms wrapping around your waist as she sobbed into your chest. You held her tightly, your heart aching for the pain she carried.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But you don’t have to face it alone.”
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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 2 days ago
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Letters
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First letter from Steve, never sent:
Your hair is pretty. Do you use conditioner?   ❤ your secret admirer
First letter from Steve, actually delivered:
       Eddie –        I wish I could say this to your face, but I’ve never been good with words, and you’d probably think it was a joke.        I can’t even get myself to talk to you, you’re so distracting.        I like how pretty your hair is. How do you get your curls so shiny? I want to run my fingers through them.        I hope this note brightens up your day. You deserve all the smiles you can get.        Yours,        Your Secret Admirer
Second Letter from Steve:
  Eddie –   You always look so happy when you’re with your friends. I like the way your dimples always seem to peek out no matter how small your smile is. The big ones are my favorite, when you��re jumping up on the cafeteria table with all your teeth showing.   You didn’t jump up on any tables last week. Was that because of me?   You seemed upset after I gave you my letter. Do you even want me to write these? I don’t want to be a bother. If you do, maybe you could write back? Leave your reply in the back of the WXYZ encyclopedia, no one ever uses that one.   If you don’t reply, then I won’t bother you anymore, okay?   Yours, always,   Your Secret Admirer
Eddie’s First Response:
       Secret Admirer,        I don’t know if this is a prank or if you genuinely like me, so I’m not really sure what to say. No one’s ever had a crush on me before, at least that I know of.          I didn’t know my hair was nice. My uncle keeps trying to get me to cut it. One time I brushed it and it was so poofy I wore a bandanna until I washed it again. But you probably didn’t need to know that. I’m glad you like it though.        The paper you picked is really pretty, and I can smell the perfume you sprayed on the envelope. Fresh flowers in the spring, or a sunny day.        –Eddie        P.S. You can keep writing. Your notes have been the best part of my days, and I hope mine will be for you, too.
Steve’s Response: 
       Eddie –         I’m not trying to bully you. I do actually really like you, and I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you. It doesn’t seem like you’re afraid of anything.        It’s ok if you don’t know how to respond, I’m just glad you did at all. I read it at least ten times and keep it in my nightstand drawer.        Sorry, that might be too much.        Yours, Always,        Your Secret Admirer        P.S. You’re always the best part of my day. I’m just glad I can read it at all. I’ve seen your penmanship, and I was a little worried. :)
Eddie’s Response: 
         Secret Admirer,          Oh, how your words wound me! My penmanship is immaculate, I’ll have you know. But it doesn’t seem fair that you know enough about me to recognize my handwriting, and I can’t say the same.          I understand if you don’t want to tell me your name, but what do you like to do for fun? What’s your favorite color? What do you dream about?          Can you give me anything? You call me brave but sending me these letters is the bravest thing I can think of, and every day I get one of your letters is the best day I’ve ever had.          Sincerely,          Eddie          P.S. I hope I dream of you tonight.
Steve’s Response:
  Eddie —   I know you don’t like them, but I like sports. There’s something about depending on your body to get you through a hard work-out, you know? But, I don’t know if it’s my thing, like Dungeons and Dragons and music are yours. Maybe I don’t have a thing. Is that weird?   My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors. I’d love to see you in such a bright color one day, even if I do love all the black and red. It suits you.   I’ve never dreamt much, but when they’re good, they’re usually about you, so your hopes just might come true.   I know your handwriting, and what you yell about for the world to hear, but I don’t know as much as I’d like. I want to know everything about you. What’s your favorite color? Do you have happy dreams?   Yours, Always   Your Secret Admirer   P.S. Maybe put it in Romeo and Juliet this time, the edition with the tear in the cover.
Eddie’s Response: 
       Secret Admirer,        I want to learn everything about you– the color of your eyes, how your lips curve when you smile, how soft your hands are, the sound of your laughter. But more than that, I want to know what you love, along with all of your deepest wants and needs. You’ve piqued my curiosity with your scant answers. I can’t help but want more.        Unfortunately, there’s not enough room on the page for the unrelenting number of questions flooding my mind. I know the point of being a secret admirer is that it’s a secret, but I hope that if you really do like me, you won’t stay secret for long.        I came up with a game I think could be fun! I’ve filled mine out already, for you to keep. Recopy it onto a separate sheet and return it with your next note. That way I get to keep your answers and you can have mine. I also wrote little notes on the back for some of them. I couldn’t help myself.        Yours,        Eddie
And included in the envelope written on a notecard, with Eddie's answers circled in red:
      ||Rock or Pop 1 || Board Games or Sports Games 2 || Early Bird or Night Owl || Reading Or TV || Big Spoon or Little Spoon 3 || Outer Space or The Ocean 4 || Art or History || Alcohol or Weed 5 || Cats or Dogs || Holding Hands or First Kiss 6 || Winter or Summer || Grease or Star Wars || Gold or Silver || Halloween or New Year’s Eve || Vampires or Werewolves 7 || Drive-In or Movie Theater || Back Seat or Under the Bleachers 8 || Cuddling or Dancing || Slides or Swings 9 ||
On the back of the notecard:
       1. Pop is fun if you’re into that, but nothing beats a good guitar riff.        2. I know you’re into sports, sweetheart, but come on, board games are the obvious winner.        3. If you prefer being the big spoon, I’m willing to compromise <3        4. If you pick the ocean, then you’re braver than me! That’s a body of water you can’t even see the bottom of! How are you cool with that?        5. If you know me, and it really seems like you do, then my answer here is obvious.        6. I bet you’ve got really nice hands, sweetheart. Would love to feel them in mine someday.        7. Werewolves are cool, too, but come on, vampires fit my aesthetic way better.        8. Under the bleachers would probably be cool, too, but my van’s a lot warmer (does that count as a backseat?)        9. I was always that kid who would go down the slide and pretend there was a dragon chasing me, what about you?
Steve’s Response:
       Eddie —        I don’t love like you do, not so easily and with my whole heart. But I love my best friend, and I like a whole lot more—hopefully that’s enough.        I’m just as greedy for answers as you are. I want to write all your answers down on flash cards, study them like you might test me on them. If you do, I’m determined to get an A+.        I hope my own answers satisfy, even if they don’t include my face, my smile, or my name. But my eyes? They’re brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours. I could fall into your eyes and die happy.        Yours, Always,        Your Secret Admirer        P.S. This time, put your reply in The Anatomy and Physiology textbook, right next to the diagram of the human heart.
Eddie’s Response:
       Secret Admirer,        You’re enough, just the way you are, brown eyes and all. I bet they’re real pretty. I could look into them for hours, mesmerized by every color differentiation, spend days counting every one of your eye lashes.        Just say the word—I’ll pick you up in my van and we can go to the drive-in and hold hands the whole time. I’ll wear my silver jewelry, and you can wear gold. I bet your hands would look real pretty wrapped up in mine.        I’ll be a gentleman, sweetheart, I swear.        Only the best for you.        Yours,        Eddie        P.S. Romantic meeting spot. I can’t wait to put this note right next to your heart. Next time maybe I can put my letter in Moby Dick. After all, you’re my white whale, baby, I’m always looking for you.
Steve’s Response: 
       Eddie —        Maybe someday, we’ll get to go to that movie. When we do, you don’t have to be a gentleman at all—I’m easy, if it’s for you, and it would be such a waste not to make use of all that space in your van.        I don’t have any rings, but if I did, I think I’d want one of yours. That way, whenever I look down at them, I’d be reminded of you.        How was your day? All I want to do is ask and hear your reply.        Yours, always        Your Secret Admirer        P.S. I’ll search the seas for you.
Eddie’s Response:
       Secret Admirer,        Oh, a flirty one, aren’t you? I like it. But maybe I’m shy, did you ever think about that? Maybe I want to walk you to your door, slide one of my rings on your finger, and give you a little kiss. You can pick the ring, baby—I’ll even resize it to fit you just right.        My days are always brighter when I hear from you. I go to the quarry on Wednesday’s to peddle my wares, but all I want to do is go home and play my guitar (my sweetheart). I’m writing a new song and I really want to get it down by next week’s practice, but I’m stuck on a riff I just can’t get right.        Do you play any instruments?        Sincerely,        Eddie        P.S. You’re going to make me swoon, babygirl.
Steve’s Response:
       Eddie —        My mom made me take piano lessons when I was little, but my dad refused to keep paying for them. I didn’t want to at first, but I really liked it. Maybe I’ll brush up my skills so I can play a song for you. Any requests?        Does your band play anywhere? I remember you from the middle school talent show, are you still going by Corroded Coffin? I bet you look hot when you play—I want to see it, someday. Your rings would glint under show lights, hypnotizing the entire audience. Especially me.        Did you figure out your riff? I’m waiting with bated breath.        Sincerely,        Your Secret Admirer        P.S. leave this one in The Taming of the Shrew.
Eddie’s Response:
       Secret Admirer,        Have you read this play? It’s not the romantic story you think it is. Since you’re already holding the book, why not check it out? I promise not to look at the checkout card to figure out who you are (I say, unrepentantly lying).        My band actually just got our first gig at the Hideout. It’s next Tuesday, and you should come! I would love to see you in the audience, cheering me on. I’ve been trying to respect your boundaries, but darling, I want to see you. Will you come? Please?        Thinking of you, always,        Eddie
Steve’s Response:
  Eddie —   There’s nothing more I want than to see you up on that stage, rocking out, in your element, but I’m just not ready. I hope you’ll forgive me.   Yours,   Your Secret Admirer   P.S. If you still want to respond, I’ll look in the big print edition of The Hobbit.
Eddie’s Response:
  Darling,   If you’re not ready, that’s okay. But the heart wants what it wants, and you can’t blame me for trying, can you? Even still, I’ll be singing just for you.   Of course I still want your letters, never doubt that. They’re still, always, forever, the best part of my day.   Always,   Eddie   P.S. Excellent choice in hiding places, have you read it?
Steve’s Response:
       Eddie —        How did your show go? I bet you’ve got a couple groupies already, you’ve already got the look for it. Did you figure out the riff for the song you were working on?        I tried playing the piano again, and I’m a little rusty, but it’s like riding a bike, you know? (Do you know how to ride a bike?) It’s nice, playing music, even if it’s all songs someone else has written, and they’re still not coming out right.        I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter. I just didn’t know what to say. You’re so patient, and nice, and I got caught up in my head you know? But I missed you.        I slept with your letter beneath my pillow last night, hoping for dreams of you.        Yours, Always        Your Secret Admirer        P.S. I haven’t read it, but maybe I will. Just to keep with the theme, put this letter in The Lord of the Rings.
Eddie’s Response: 
         Secret Admirer,          There was a little hiccup with my guitar and plugging her in, but otherwise it went great! All four of the drunks at the Hideout clapped politely when we were done, and not even one of them booed us off stage!          The riff is still getting on my last nerve, darling, you have no idea. I wish I could hear you play, I bet you’d inspire me so much, a stroke of genius would strike me and I’d know exactly what I’m missing.          (I don’t know how to ride a bike. My dad was never around to teach me, and by the time I moved in with Uncle Wayne, I was too old to learn.)          Darling, did you dream of me? Was it a naughty dream?          Yours,          Eddie P.S. The Lord of the Rings is the name of the whole trilogy, so I hope you find it in The Fellowship. Can’t believe you don’t even know Tolkein. It’s okay, baby, I like you anyway. 
Steve’s Response, first letter written alone:
  Eddie —   You were the best damn thing those drunks have ever seen, hands down. No, before you ask, I wasn’t there. But when I had that letter under my pillow, I dreamed a little dream (not naughty, I know you’re disappointed, sorry). I don’t remember the songs, but I remember the way you looked for me in the crowd and smiled. All the dream people gave you a standing ovation, me loudest of all.   You’re never too old to learn to ride a bike. My dad didn’t teach me either, but a friend did. Maybe someday, I could be that friend for you, and when I tell you I won’t let go, you can rest easy knowing I’m not lying.   Sincerely,   Your Secret Admirer   P.S. I know it’s still winter, but I’ll meet you in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Eddie’s Response:
  Secret Admirer,   I wish I could dream about you, too. I want to know your face well enough to hold it in my mind, even unconscious. I want to lay my head on my pillow tonight and know that you’ll be waiting for me in dreamland, ready to be the best groupie a guy could ask for.   The truth is, no one’s loved me before. No one’s liked me, or kissed me, or held my hand during a scary movie. And, that’s scarier than any movie could ever be. Because, you’re it, baby. The one and only, and all that shit.   I’ve got friends, and that’s enough for me! It really is! But a part of me just wants to hold someone’s hand—your hand. Maybe we can someday. Maybe we can do all the things we’ve talked about: go to a drive-in, play music together, learn to ride a bike. But even if we never do, I’m grateful for every one of these letters. Being wanted is new to me, and I’m not ready to give it up.   Yours, always,   Eddie
Steve’s halted attempts at letter-writing, never sent:
Eddie —   You don’t want to know what I   Someone has loved you. I love   I’ll take anything you   Fuck
Steve’s Response:
  Eddie —   I really liked your tabletop speech this week, even though you made fun of the jocks. Some of them definitely deserve it. Do you hate all of them, or just the bullies?   You laughed, but it wasn’t your real laugh like when Mr. Danver accidentally said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’. I love your laugh, I thought about it all day. Kind of like when your favorite song gets stuck in your head.   I know I’ve said it before, but I do really like you. But, if you knew me, I don’t think you’d like me. It’s okay, though. I’m stupid like that—always putting my whole heart into people who don’t feel the same.   I’m sorry, this is probably not the letter you hoped to get. I’ll be better next time, promise.   Yours,   Your Secret Admirer   P.S. Put your response in the World Atlas, the long one that they have to put sideways on the bookshelf (because no matter where you are, I’ll always think of you).
Eddie’s Response, thrown away before it can be read:
  Secret Admirer,   I don’t think it’s all jocks—you’re too nice for that. But even you have to admit that a lot of the jocks are only doing it to be at the top of the food chain. Guys like Carver and Harrington Hagaon? They don’t even care about sports, they just want peons to fawn over them. But, there’s people like you, too, so maybe more of them are better than I expect.   I can’t imagine knowing who you are and not liking you. You’re the nicest girl I know. You don’t have to tell me who you are, but if you do? I promise, it’ll all be okay.   Yours, always,   Eddie   P.S. You don’t have to “be better,” baby. I just want you to be you. That will always be enough for a guy like me.
Eddie’s Letter, handed directly to Chrissy:
Chrissy, I’m sorry for not being up front with you. I was just afraid, but not anymore. I don’t want you to think you’re not good enough for me because baby, you’re everything. Every word you write on the page means everything to me. You have to know that. I can’t imagine this year without you in it. You’ve brightened my days far more than you could ever know. I want the chance to do the same for you. I want to get you flowers, and show up at your door with my hair combed just right. I want to hold your hand at the drive-in. If you want that, too, I’ll pick you up this Friday. They’re showing Romancing the Stone, my treat. Hopefully Yours, Eddie P.S. You don’t have to “be better,” baby. I just want you to be you. That will always be enough for a guy like me.
Steve’s Letter, never delivered:
   Eddie —    I’m sorry I never got to read your last letter, but it wasn’t for me anyways. Maybe none of them were, not really. And I’m sorry about that, even sorrier about how your pretty face got caught in the ceasefire. I’m just full of sorries I’m to scared to tell to your face��from the way you ran when you saw me in the hallway this morning, maybe you wouldn’t want me to anyway.    You’ve always been the brave one, so you must really want to not see me, huh? I hope you and Jeff are friends again. I’m sorry about that too, I’m the one who asked him not to tell you. I was afraid, but that’s no excuse.    I don’t know how to stop wanting to right write to you. I can’t turn off the part of me that still wants to know everything about you. There’s a whole in my heart, and I keep trying to find people to fill it, but I can never be in love with someone who loves me back. You know?    I’m sorry, Eddie. Maybe someday, I’ll get to say it to your face.    Sorry,    Steve
Eddie’s Letter, left in Steve’s locker:
   Steve,    I wanted to start this out by saying that I’m sorry—it’s a phrase I’m becoming alarmingly used to saying in recent weeks. To Jeff, to Gareth, and now to you. No matter how surprised I was, I had no right to say all that shit to you. And for that, I’m sorry, okay? Really, truly sorry.    As Chrissy and Jeff pointed out once you’d left, I was a dick, and there’s no excuse for that. And as my uncle told me when he was doing his disappointed parent shtick, I might have been projecting, just a tad.    Eddie Munson might be gay—who knew?    So, I’ll hope you accept my sincerest apologies for how I’ve handled this whole thing, Steve. I can’t imagine how it must have felt. Well, I can now, a bit. And it’s scary, right? But, I think it’s my turn to be brave. If I haven’t already ruined any chance I might have had, maybe we can go on a date?    I’ll pick you up this Friday at your house, say around seven? If you don’t answer the door, I’ll understand. That’ll be my answer.    But I really, really, really hope you do.    Yours, always, hopefully,    Eddie
Eddie’s note, hand-delivered at the end of their first date:
   Second Date? Yes ☐ No ☐    First Kiss? Yes ☐ No ☐
Steve’s Letter, delivery not pictured (slipped into the pocket of Steve’s Letterman during their second date):
   Eddie —    I know we don’t have to do this anymore, but I miss it. Isn’t that the strangest thing? I’m happy talking to you face to face, holding your hand beneath the table, pressing my lips against yours, but I miss reading your words, and I miss writing my own.    So, here I am, writing you the day before our second date, so nervous and excited I might just throw up. Because we can do it now, you know? We can do all the things we’ve talked about (and more). I’m excited to do them with you.        If the date goes well, I want you to put this under your pillow, hold my face in your mind, and dream of me.    Hopefully Yours, Hopefully Always,    Steve    P.S. I know you can just put them in my locker now, but maybe put this one in The Return of the King? Just this once, for me?
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cal-daisies-and-briars · 1 day ago
Note
⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️⛅️
⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️
🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲
🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️🧜‍♂️
Oh hell yeah! 42 for ⛅️
---
Except, wait… What if they’re stuck here? Eddie is straight. He might want to not remain married to Buck. He might… Maybe he would want a divorce. Oh god. That would be terrible. Absolutely terrible. Tommy dumping him and then Eddie divorcing him? How can he already have a worse track record with men than with women! Women had a significant head start! 
“Right?” He asks Eddie. “We’re not, right?”
“No!” Eddie answers, outraged like the question is ridiculous. “I would never divorce you!”
Okay, Mr. I’m Straight How Would We Even Have Sex. It wasn’t a silly question! 
“Okay, well something is going on!” Chris insists. “You both cried when you saw me. You’ve hardly touched each other all night. You’re usually disgusting. You forgot Nico’s allergies, like you’re too distracted or something. What is going on?” 
Buck and Eddie exchange an uncomfortable glance. 
“Uh… I’m just… Not feeling well?” Buck tries. 
“You’re sick?” Chris asks. “Oh my god, are you dying? Buck…”
“No!” Buck exclaims. “I’m not dying, Chris.”
“Then what?” Chris demands. 
“We’re really okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t need to worry about it, bud.”
---
42 for ⚡️
---
“You’re gonna need it.”
Buck sighs. He knows Bobby is right. He should probably be trying to bank sleep instead of stress. 
“It all just feels out of my control, you know?” Buck says. “Like if something goes wrong at this point, what can I do?”
“Nothing,” Bobby says. “There’s nothing.”
“See? That sucks!”
Bobby smiles. “That’s parenthood, though. That’s just… How a lot of it is.”
Buck nods. He knows that. Conceptually, he knows that. He just doesn’t like feeling it. He likes being able to do something. Manage potential problems. Be the solution. And as much as he knows that a baby a day overdue is not actually a problem, it just feels like the beginning of that anxious feeling he can’t do anything to solve. 
“Things are going to happen that you have no control over,” Bobby says. “Lots of them. And things will happen that you do have control over that you get wrong. But what’s important is how you respond to that.”
Buck nods. “Who’s to say I won’t panic about that, too?”
“You will,” Bobby chuckles. “But it’s okay. Because, at the end of the day, I think you’ll always do right by her.”
Buck takes a deep breath. “Thanks, Bobby.”
“Of course,” Bobby replies. “You know… When Brooke was five - right after she started school - there was a school bus accident. One of the buses headed towards hers and Bobby Jr.’s school. While I was on shift.”
“Were they on it?” Buck asks. 
“No,” Bobby shakes his head. 
---
42 for 🌲
---
“So, then, like… Genetics makes sense, right? Unless there’s another comic-esque origin,” Buck says. 
Eddie wrinkles his nose.
“Do you think I could have secret magic genes?” Buck continues. “My parents have English ancestry. What could that be?”
Eddie frowns. “Careful. A rabbit tempting enough runs by you and you might turn into a whippet.”
Buck smirks. “Aw, but you’d take care of me right? Put me in one of those little turtlenecks?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but finds that he’s smiling, too. How can Buck make him smile, even now?
“You know… A whippet’s life might be nice. Running really fast. Not a lot of problems. Soft turtlenecks. Presumably better-than-human hearing.”
Eddie tilts his head a little, taking Buck in. There’s a hint of sadness there. Well… Of course there is. This whole time they’ve been focused entirely on Eddie. But Buck’s been going through a lot, too. 
“Hey, uh,” Eddie says. “How are you holding in? With everything that’s happened…”
Buck blinks. “Uh… Fine, Eddie. I’m fine.”
Eddie raises an eyebrow. That just confirmed the opposite.
“Buck.” 
“Really!” Buck insists.
“Oh, come on,” Eddie chides. “Between the fitting and Tommy, you’ve gotta be stressed.” 
---
42 for 🧜‍♂️
---
 He can’t be honest. He’s landed on, it’s just Chris and I or he doesn’t have a mother in his life. This usually shuts down the conversation for anyone with the social skills to realize he doesn’t want to talk about it. Which, fortunately, is most people. But there’s always the odd one. Did she leave you? Is she dead? It’s awkward and uncomfortable and Eddie hates it.
So when he makes the decision to tell Buck about Chris, on the day of the earthquake, it’s maybe sort of a test. Which is unfair of him, he knows. But, underneath his layers of anxiety in trying to contact his son, there’s a need to know. How will Buck react? Will he see Eddie the way Eddie has seen him? Will he ask the wrong questions? The right, discrete ones? Eddie isn’t sure. And maybe the way Buck reacts will… Give Eddie a hint? As to whether or not his suspicions are accurate? 
Buck’s response is great, but unhelpful. He beams, says he loves kids, and calls the photo of Christopher adorable. Well, yes! Christopher is adorable. Cutest kid ever, thank you very much. Said with no bias. He also doesn’t ask any questions about Christopher’s mother. So kind of a great response on all fronts. But not a conclusive one. 
Eddie feels stupid. What was Buck going to do? Start discussing trans parenthood in the back of the fire engine? No. Obviously fucking not. If he was out, he’d be out. And if he’s trans and suspects Eddie, he wouldn’t out Eddie either. Damn it. 
But the whole experience does teach Eddie something about Buck. When he decides he’s friends with you, he’s a damn good friend. Like, thoughtful and strikingly sincere. He spends the whole day supplying Eddie with earthquake facts. Reassuring him about Christopher’s safety. Keeping an eye on the cell service to see if Eddie can call Christopher’s school. 
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zishu-arts · 5 months ago
Text
for the people who have read my fic “give all the best to you” (again)
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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months ago
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hii, are your requests open? if not you can just ignore this (and sorry to bother!!) but if they are could you do something w the batboys where they have a dream that the reader has died or something? please, and TYSM
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Jason would awake immediately from the dream with tears streaking his cheeks and his throat sore from what he could only assume was screaming.
It happened again, that hyper realistic dream that made him felt as though he was seeing through his future self’s eyes, or into an alternate universe where he was bound to lose you despite doing everything in his power to protect you.
It felt real, uncomfortably real for Jason’s liking that it felt a sense of unease and anxiety to flood through him but before they could get worse, he heard your voice.
‘Jason, you were screaming are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?’
He felt as though he could properly breath now that he knew you were okay but his heart was telling him that hearing you wasn’t enough; He needed to feel you against him to ease his racing mind. With that Jason was quick to grab you by the waist, pull you into his chest and held onto you as though he was a kid clinging onto his favourite plush toy, his face buried into your neck as his arms held you as tightly as they could without causing you discomfort.
‘Jason?’
‘I lost you sweetheart.’ He told you without hesitation. ‘I couldn’t do anything, I was frozen with fear and that cost me you in the end.’ He adds, wanting nothing more then to get through image out of his head for good.
‘I’m right here jay birdie.’ You whispered softly, pressing sweet, gentle kisses into his neck and shoulders in hopes of easing the evident tenseness there. ‘You’re my best friend, my soul mate and my partner but most importantly you’re my protector and I have never felt safer than I ever have then with you.’ You reassure him as you let him silently sob into your nightshirt while rubbing your hand up and down his back. ‘I’m alive. you know it, I know it, we both know it to be true. So don’t believe the tricks that your mind pulls on you Jason because they’re always never true.’
Jason pulls his head from your shoulder. ‘What if I loose you one day?’ He asks, staring at you with teary eyes.
‘You won’t.’ You said with certainty.
‘How do you know?’
‘I know because I won’t let it happen, someone has to take care of your heart and kiss your wounds well into the early hours of morning, and I want that person to be me.’ You replied as you pressed a kiss to his forehead before resting your forehead there. ‘You’re stuck with me Jay Birdie because it’s going to take everything this cursed towns got to take me from you.’
Jason, finding reassurance in your words, let out a deep sigh as he fell back into bed, taking you with him as he draped the covers over the both of you once more, kissing the top of your head as he gave your waist a quick squeeze. ‘Gotham will have to go through me first sweetheart, and for you? I’d start a fucking war if it meant keeping you by my side and safe from all harm this town could bring. I don’t care if I got hurt but all it takes is one scratch on you and I’m burning this town down.’ He murmurs before finally falling back asleep, holding you protective against his chest, more then ready to prove his promise to be true in more than one way.
Damian
Would reach out for you for comfort but when he couldn’t feel you his eyes would shoot open and he was getting out of bed to search for you.
Only for you to be stood in the doorway with a glass of water in your hand, looking at him with worry.
‘Damian are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost-‘ you weren’t able to finish your sentence when Damian rushed to hold your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks slightly from the iron clad grip he had on them.
‘Is this real?’ He asks in a weak whisper. ‘Are you really here darling?’
He had a nightmare and your heart broke seeing him this affected by it and placed your water down safely before holding his hands over his, squeezing.
‘I’m right here my treasure.’ You replied. ‘I’m not going anywhere, not without you.’
Damian’s hands loosened their grip on your cheeks and fell to your shoulders as he presses his head against your chest to feel your heartbeat against his ear, proving to him that you were alive and well within his care.
‘I lost you my heart, I felt hollow without you, almost as though someone reached into my chest and took out everything good in me.’ Damian admits as he burrows his head into your chest. ‘You are the good in me.’ He adds, voice muffled but his message was loud and clear.
‘And you are everything good in me my love.’ You replied as you ran your hand through his hair in hopes of bringing him some comfort. ‘Do you want to talk about the rest of it?’
Damian’s grip on your tightened. ‘No. It pains me too much to talk about it right now, I fear that if I do it’ll come my reality.’
‘Do you wish to go back to bed?’ You asked, more than willing to do anything to calm his mind. ‘You can hold me for as long as you want and I won’t complain about needing to pee.’ You joked lightly and could envision the small smile that would appear upon Damian’s lips whenever you said something remotely silly.
‘Please.’ Damian said and without another word you allowed him to drag you back to bed with him and under the covers where he was quick to hold onto you as though you were his personal teddy bear for the rest of the night.
Tim clings onto you like a koala bear after having a nightmare that you died, he was too afraid that if he were to let go then it would become reality somehow.
The nightmare messed with him so badly that he couldn’t get the idea that if he were to stray from your side for too long, tragedy would only naturally befall you. He hates it but he hated the idea of loosing you forever even more and so he would cuddle closely to you, all the while finding it increasingly more and more difficult to return to sleep.
‘Tim?’ You said softly. ‘You need sleep, you know how much I worry about you collapsing one day and I’m not nearby to help.’
Tim laughs humourlessly as he held onto you a little tighter. ‘How can I go back to sleep when nothing good waits for me there hmm?’
You tried to move and look at him but Tim made that impossible. ‘What do you mean by that?’
Tim doesn’t answer.
‘Tim…did you have a nightmare.’ You asked.
‘The worse kind.’ He said weakly as he held you closer to him in hopes of merging you with him so that he didn’t have to watch you die in real life.
‘What would make it better?’ You inquired, wanting nothing more than to help him no matter what.
Tim shrugs. ‘Just…just keep talking to me…please.’ He pleads as his hands toyed with the bottom of your nightshirt anxiously. You smiled softly as you placed your hands over his own, caressing the backs of them as you heard his soft gaps at the sudden contact. ‘What would you like for me to talk about?’
‘Anything.’ Tim said. ‘Anything just, please talk.’
And talk you did for most of the night until you felt Tim fall asleep against your back as soft snores filled the room and you, having felt accomplished in your task, soon followed suit to keep him company in dream land also and make sure his dreams went undisturbed.
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moonstruckme · 1 month ago
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Ooh ok, so here are some ideas for vampire!James in case you feel inspired to write any of them! Maybe something where he comes home after going out to feed thinking reader is asleep and he's feeling guilty and reader comforts and reassures him? Or another idea is just reader finding out that James is a vampire now, or maybe just her being there for him through the turning process. Sorry if none of these tickle your fancy!
Thank you for requesting lovely!!
cw: mention of blood, nausea
vampire!James x fem!reader ♡ 906 words
James walks through your door with heavy steps. He’s glad that he can do it—the first time he tried to come home after turning, you’d both wondered at how his feet wouldn’t cross the threshold until you figured it out and invited him in. It had been embarrassing. Now, James all but stumbles into the kitchen, hopefully not leaving any drippings of blood in his wake. 
He always feels drunk and sluggish after a feeding. Nauseous, too, though he’s not sure if that’s from the bilious too-full feeling or simply his own disgust with himself and what he’s done. Sirius theorizes that if James fed more often instead of waiting until he’s wasting away every time, he might not feel the effects so keenly, but James doesn’t like to talk about it. He still can’t find it in himself to talk about his condition the way his friends do, like it’s normal. 
The water coming out of the tap could be cold or boiling, James wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. All he can think about is getting it all over him, cleansing himself. He’d imagine it as washing away his sins, if such a thing were possible for creatures like him. Still, he wants to be clean to slip into bed beside you. You deserve at least that. 
It’s probably his distraction that keeps him from hearing you come down the hall. (James is not a very good vampire, he thinks. Shoddy predatory instincts.) But when you touch his shoulder, coming up beside him, he doesn’t startle. 
“Sweetheart.” James has the urge to cover his mouth from your view. These days he’s pretty good at feeding neatly, but tonight had been messier. There’s blood down to his chin. “What are you doing up?”
You give him a little smile, opening a drawer next to the sink for a cloth. “I could ask you the same thing.” 
“No, you couldn’t. I’m a creature of the night now, remember?”
Oddly, this has been one of the most difficult parts of the transition for James. There’s the whole living-off-blood thing, of course, and the new ability to hear a fly in the neighbor’s kitchen, but James was always an early-to-rise, early-to-bed sort of bloke. His old schedule was dictated by the sun. Now, all his instincts are in opposition to it. 
He stays still as you adjust the temperature of the tap, wetting the cloth and then lifting it to James’ face. You smell like toothpaste, and underneath that the garlicky pasta you had for dinner. (James isn’t actually deterred by garlic, though he can’t eat it just like he can’t eat any regular foods anymore. Maybe that’s where the folklore came from. Only something truly cursed would stop eating garlic.) He can feel the veins pulsing in your wrist like a substitute for the heartbeat he no longer has, but he’s full enough now not to worry about craving you. 
Of course, he craves you in various ways, all of the time. Just not in that specific way at the moment. 
“You should be in bed,” James murmurs. He touches his thumb to the shadow underneath your left eye. “I can clean myself up.” 
“I wish you’d just use the bathroom,” you reply just as softly, dragging the cloth over the line of his jaw. “But anyway, I don’t mind helping.” 
You don’t mind much of anything, James has found. You don’t mind watching your boyfriend turn into a vampire, don’t mind letting him feed on you, don’t mind cleaning an animal’s blood off his chin at two in the morning. You’ve adjusted to James’ new lifestyle better than he has. He’s beginning to think there’s nothing about him you won’t accept. You’re a sweetheart to your core, your center soft and sticky sweet like a cinnamon roll’s. (James should know, he’d practically tasted it himself.)
“I’m sorry I woke you,” he says. 
You wave a hand. “You didn’t. I was up, I just came when I heard the tap come on.” 
So you’d been waiting up for him. James’ heart at once warms with fondness and heavies with guilt. 
You give him a searching look. “Does it still make you feel sick, after?” 
“Yeah,” James admits. 
Your lips pull down. “I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t worry about it, lovely.” 
“Mm, try and stop me,” you counter teasingly. “Do you think you could handle a sprite?” 
James isn’t sure. Solid foods only ever make him sick, but drinks have been hit-or-miss. 
“I could try,” he says, mostly for you. 
“Only if you want to.” You set the cloth down on the edge of the sink, kissing him softly on the lips. James doesn’t know how you can do it. To open your mouth to one that’s just done something horrid, and to do it so simply. 
“I love you,” you murmur. 
James’ unbeating heart gives a powerful squeeze. “I love you, too.” 
You press a kiss just below his lips, and another to his chin. If you’re trying to prove a point, it’s working. 
“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep if we go to bed?” you ask softly. 
“Mm, definitely. Like the dead.” 
A startled giggle spurts out of you. You smile up at him, your eyes sparkling in the dark. James thinks that maybe he could get used to the whole vampire thing, so long as he can keep you looking at him like this.
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nadvs · 9 months ago
Text
cam girl (part five)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
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summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
You were too tired to wake up to your alarm. You snoozed for an extra hour under a mountain of blankets, drifting in and out of consciousness.
When you finally feel ready to start your Sunday, it’s almost 10, and your mind slowly pieces together everything that happened last night.
Rafe has become your sugar daddy. There’s no doubt about it, no other word for it. At this point, you’re sure he’s given you almost ten grand.
You remain lying in bed and pick up your phone to see he texted you five minutes ago. After the $3000 transfer last night, you had quickly saved his number.
Rafe: sore?
You reply: as fuck.
Rafe: you loved it
You roll your eyes. Of course you loved it.
You think of the way he spoke to you, mumbling that you’re beautiful and praising the sounds you made. The way he thrusted into you and called your pussy so fucking perfect. The way his skin slapped against yours with his rough jolts. Remembering it makes your stomach twist with arousal.
You reply: so did you
Your phone buzzes again.
Rafe: send an ass pic
You: are you always horny?
Rafe: pretty much. woke up hard
You: and i’m the needy one… lmao
Rafe: are u sending it or not
You smile to yourself at how bad he wants you. You push the blankets off your body. You had fallen asleep in a cold room, your radiator refusing to come back to life no matter how hard you tried, so you’re covered head to toe under fleece pajamas.
The way Rafe reacted to your heat being broken replays in your mind. He seemed so dumbfounded by the idea that you couldn’t just fix something without worrying about the cost.
Then he sent you the exact amount you need to fix it. The fact that you can ask for however much you want and he’ll probably send it without hesitation still throws you for a loop. It’s an odd feeling not having to worry about money.
Thankfully, the morning sun has warmed up your bedroom. You pull your pants and underwear down in one smooth movement, turn onto your front and angle your phone camera.
You can smell Rafe on your pillow. The aroma of his cologne is so unbelievably nice, memories already connected to it.
You lie on your back again, pulling the blanket over you, and send him the photo, a low angle image of your naked asscheeks. You gaze at your screen, anticipating what he’ll say.
But he doesn’t send any words. Just a picture. Your eyes travel over the bulge making a tent in his black boxer briefs. You can see the trail of soft, light hair that leads down to his cock.
Your body tightens at the image. He felt so damn good last night. You can’t wait until the next time he’s inside you.
You text: wish u were here?
Rafe: i’d fuck u even harder than i did last night
You: you wouldn’t make me wait hours for it? wow…
Rafe: you’re so wet right now aren’t you
You can imagine the way he’d say that. He’s so smug. And so right. You dip a hand below the blanket between your legs, your soft folds drenched.
maybe, you reply.
Rafe: you took my cock so good
You bite your lip reading his words. The photo of his covered erection isn’t enough. You need more.
You: show me it
Rafe: you’d like that huh
You: i can just find some porn if you won’t do it
Rafe: don’t even fucking joke about getting off to some other guy’s dick
You smirk. You got to him like you hoped you would.
You: what? i can’t tease you too?
Rafe: no
You: send me a pic then. u know i deserve it
Rafe: only good girls deserve it
You: idk if good girls play with their pussies on camera… maybe i should stop doing that
Rafe: shut up. ur doing it for me every night
He’s so damn worked up that it’s funny. You shrug to yourself, opening another app, letting him sweat.
Your phone buzzes moments later, a notification from him dropping from the top of your screen.
Rafe: ???
You reply: you told me to shut up. i’m listening
He only texts your name.
You: rafe :)
A picture finally comes in. You take in the image of his dick, glad you finally have a chance to appreciate him in brighter lighting. The other photos that he sent over the cam chat were so dark, but now you can see the veins that run down his shaft, the swell of the tip, his large hand gripping the base.
You don’t think you could ever get tired of it.
You: am i allowed to touch myself?
Even through the power struggle between you two, you love giving him the control of when you can orgasm.
Rafe: if you promise me something
You: what?
Rafe: i can watch you play with your asshole tonight
Jesus. He’s unhinged. When he sent that message telling you that you’ll be doing a lot of new things with him, he wasn’t kidding.
The thought of doing this for him is stirring. None of the other guys on cam ever asked for anything like that.
You: i can do that
Rafe: get the toy i bought you. text when ur ready
You drop your phone and rush to find the vibrator, feeling like you’re throbbing now. When you’re all adjusted, you text him: ready.
Your breath hitches as the toy starts to buzz at a brutalizing intensity. You cross your legs, squeeze your chest, and groan as you think about him.
You orgasm within a minute. It feels good, but not as good as when Rafe is actually with you. With him, it’s a new level of ecstasy. Fuck. He may have ruined masturbation for you.
You pick up your phone.
You: might have to go back to sleep after that…
Your phone flashes a notification of $100 being transferred into your digital wallet.
Rafe: order breakfast for yourself
The amount he sent is ridiculous. What kind of place does he get breakfast from?
You doze off again, waking up half an hour later. After ordering food, you send Rafe a screenshot of the confirmation receipt and text: thanks baby <3
Rafe: did u call about the heat yet
You reply: i will
Rafe: do it now
You: bossy
Rafe: now
God, does he love to be in control. You follow his instructions and find the repair place you called last time and make an appointment to get your radiator replaced tomorrow afternoon.
It’s an unreal feeling - your problem being solved in the snap of a finger. This is a little taste of wealth.
You know not to read into it. Rafe’s not doing any of this of the kindness of his heart. Spoiling you is obviously one of the many things he gets off on. But you’re happy to go along with it. Especially considering $3000 is pocket change to this man.
When breakfast is dropped off, you notice a box addressed to you sitting in front of your door. You open it to find a new webcam. Rafe mentioned he’d buy it yesterday. He moves fast.
The day feels long and at 10 pm, you finally log on with the hope that Rafe will do what he did last night and come over instead of making you crave him throughout your session, leaving you to fuck yourself while fantasizing about him.
You’re wearing the ‘princess’ top you bought with his money, matching with pink underwear.
He joins the session and lust fires through you already.
“Hey,” you purr. “How’s the new camera look?”
figure8: much better
figure8 tipped you $100.
“What’s that for?” you giggle.
figure8: for looking so pretty
“Thanks, baby,” you say. “Is this pretty, too?”
You immediately turn onto your knees, looking back at the camera at the sight of your lace panties stretched over your ass.
figure8: goddamn
You smile.
figure8: you get me hard in a fucking second
“Yeah?” you coo. “Did you like my ass pic today?”
figure8: fuck yes. you ever done anal?
You laugh at how direct he is. You never have to wonder what Rafe’s thinking.
You hadn’t gone into that territory, but something about Rafe made you feel adventurous. “No, but maybe I’d try it with you.”
figure8: maybe?
“Depends on your mood,” you say.
figure8: the fuck does that mean
“I had to cum three times for you the other day. But yesterday, you wouldn’t let me do it for fucking hours.” You shrug. “If you make me wait that long again, you’re not getting anything.”
figure8: its honestly really fucking cute how you think you make the rules lol
“Shut up.”
figure8: im not getting anything… sure. i didnt let u cum all day but you were still begging me to fuck you last night
“I hate you,” you laugh.
figure8: you love me and this dick
figure 8: let me see you squeeze your ass
You’re so turned on already, resting your hands on your ass and kneading the flesh. You roam over your skin, fondling and grabbing, then move your fingers to the back of your thighs and bounce your asscheeks for him with your hands.
figure8: fuckkk just like that
“You like these panties?” you ask. The lace leaves nothing to the imagination.
figure8: i wanna see them ripped off
“These were expensive,” you pout.
figure8 tipped you $500.
figure8: there, you can buy more
“God, how much do you think they cost?” you laugh.
figure8: rip them off right now
You dip your fingers beneath the frilly border of the underwear and try to pull them apart. The lace digs into your skin and you finally hear a tear, the fabric giving way.
You watch your image in the screen, the pink lace pulling apart over your asscheeks.
figure8: shake ur ass
You oblige, arching your back, imagining him sitting behind you, big hands on your waist while you writhe and bounce for him.
figure8: let me see ur asshole
The request is probably the most obscene thing he’s ever asked of you. But you like that he does this, that he pushes you into new experiences.
You’re shaking with arousal as you watch yourself obey his orders, spreading open for him.
figure8: holy fucking shit
figure8: i know you’d loooove it up the ass
figure8: get close so i can see you suck on your finger
You’re puzzled at the request, but you obey anyways, turning to face the screen. You shift closer to your laptop and seductively stick your forefinger into your hot mouth, sucking it with quiet moans.
You’re reminded of how he shoved his finger in your mouth last night. Shit, last night was perfect.
figure8: is it nice and wet?
“Mhm.”
figure8: wanna put that finger in your ass for me?
You bite your lip, apprehension inching up your skin. He seems to notice your nervousness.
figure8: nice and slow, baby. you can do it
You nod, turning to spread your ass for him again, then slowly push your digit into your tight hole. You breathe through the pressure, dipping each inch of your finger in with caution, finding pleasure in the new sensation.
figure8: hows it feel?
“Good,” you breathe. You sit up to grab the lube in your nightstand that you bought when you started camming and sit in front of the camera, opening the bottle.
“You want me to try two fingers?” you ask.
figure8: fuck yes
You squeeze the slippery liquid onto your forefinger and middle finger and get onto all fours, angling your ass towards the camera.
When you slip both fingers inside, you arch your back and breathe shakily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you enter your body in a new way for him.
As hot as it is to be doing this for him, now that you’ve had a taste of what it’s like having his body melt into yours, you need him. This just isn’t satisfying enough anymore.
figure8: u like that?
“Mhm,” you moan. “Maybe it’d be better if I try with the dildo?”
You get the reaction you were hoping for.
figure8: the first dick in that ass isn’t gonna be some toy. it’ll be mine, you understand?
“Okay,” you say, brows furrowed, a tone of disappointment in your voice.
figure8: you want it tonight, don’t you?
“Yeah, baby,” you whimper, writhing in anticipation. “I want it tonight.”
figure8 tipped you $1000.
figure8 has left the session.
You smirk to yourself. It seems like this’ll be your and Rafe’s special version of foreplay. Maybe you’ll always begin with a cam show he pays you for, the same way you two started this wild affair, and then he’ll race over and have his way with you.
You decide to pull off your shirt so you can greet him fully naked.
When you hear his knock at the door, your skin prickles with anticipation. Rafe comes in frenzied, slamming the door behind him, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you back into your bedroom.
“Already naked for me,” he rasps, standing in the middle of your bedroom, holding you, towering over you. “My needy girl.”
“Don’t make me wait any longer, then,” you whisper.
Rafe guides you onto your bed, hovering over top of you, his lips hungrily kissing and sucking on your mouth over and over.
With your back against your sheets, you roll your body beneath his, the sensation of his jeans and t-shirt rubbing on your bare skin wildly sexy.
You swear you can feel his cock jerk under his jeans and you breathe out a contented sigh.
“What?” he asks, pulling back with his forehead still pressed against yours.
“Your cock is twitching,” you tease, slipping your hand under his shirt to feel his hot skin. You pull his shirt off and toss it onto the floor.
Rafe lifts his body slightly and dips his hand between your legs, making you sharply inhale as he spreads your lips apart.
“And you’re so fucking wet,” he replies, like he’s trying to one-up you. You shudder as his fingers run up and down your slit.
He brings his hand up to suck on the tips of his fingers, hard eyes on you, and you feel like you might lose your mind over how hot the shared moment is.
“You taste so good,” he says, voice rough. He comes back down to kiss you hard, then shifts to put his mouth on your tits.
You jerk when he grazes a nipple with his teeth, a moan spilling out of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling him pinch and grip you.
“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” Rafe says against your cleavage. “You want that?”
“Yes, yes, please.”
“My good girl,” he praises. You hear him fumbling with his jeans, the zipper slipping down quickly, and he plunges into you with no warning, with such a rough blow that you whimper.
You feel your body swallow his thickness, stretching to adjust to his size. He curves into you so perfectly.
Rafe pulls back and rocks into you again, your body jolting with his pressure. His chest is pressed against yours and he shifts to the side to put his hand at your throat, long fingers around your neck.
He squeezes gently, still pounding into you.
“Tighter,” you whisper.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he says with a breathy laugh, like he can’t believe that you exist, that you’re taking him like this.
His fingers tighten on the sides of your neck as the sound of smacking flesh fills your bedroom. You grunt with every heavenly pump he gives you, his balls swinging against your ass.
“You take it so good,” he breathes. You tilt your head back, letting his big hand grip your neck better. You’re so grateful he didn’t torment you by making you wait this time.
“Get on top,” Rafe groans into your ear, drawing out of you. “I wanna watch you ride me.”
His hands find your hips as he helps pull you over him. With your palms against his firm pecs, you sink onto him, his cock hitting a new angle.
“Fuck,” you choke out. “Oh, my God, Rafe.”
“You like that, huh, baby?” he says, dimples framing his cocky smile.
You start to bounce with your legs bent and framing his torso, leaning forward so your clit rubs around the base of his cock. The feeling of him filling you and the friction against your sensitive spot makes your eyes roll back in your head.
Your heart starts to pound harder as you massage yourself with his dick, grinding at the perfect pace. You look down at him, meeting his blue eyes, as you roll your hips so you can feel him in every possible way.
You dip your head, panting and moaning as he grips your hips. You’ve never wanted to scream from pleasure so badly.
“I know, princess,” he drawls. “I know it feels good.”
The waves of pleasure are so damn nice that you moan and cover your mouth with your hand so your neighbors don’t hear how loud you’re being.
Rafe roughly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand down.
“Don’t do that,” he instructs.
“My neighbors-“
“Let ‘em hear how much you love this dick,” he says. You feel like you could cum from his words alone.
“F-fuck,” you stammer, grinding faster and harder. “Oh, fuck.”
“You gonna cum?” he teases. A part of you is afraid he’ll push himself out of you, delay your orgasm.
“Please let me,” you whine, “please, baby.”
“I’ll let you,” Rafe says with an amused chuckle. “God, you’re my fucking dream girl.”
The pleasure spikes in you so damn high that you feel your limbs go numb. You cry out as you dissolve into pleasure in its purest form, continuing to ride him as the orgasm hits you, tightening around him in pulses.
“There you go,” he says soothingly, encouragingly.
You bend over on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, hearing his heart. Rafe’s warm hand strokes up and down your back as you spasm on top of him.
As your gasps slow down, his hands find your ass. He jiggles your cheeks in his hands and you giggle breathily.
“You gonna let me cum in that ass?” he asks you.
“You can cum anywhere you want,” you breathe, feeling cockdrunk. Rafe’s chest rumbles with his laugh.
You sit up and slowly pull yourself off of him, his hard cock bobbing once it’s out of you.
Even though you’re sure you already made his cock wet enough, you hand him the bottle of lube before getting on all fours on your bed. You look back at him to see him slathering his cock with lube.
“I’ll go slow, princess,” he promises. “I’ll stretch you out first.”
You squeeze your pillow and place it so that you can sink your face into it as he fucks you. With your head dug into the soft cotton, you feel Rafe’s big hands grope your ass.
He spreads your cheeks apart and groans.
“Every part of you is so pretty,” he huffs. “You gonna take my cock in any hole I want, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you moan, muscles still weak from your orgasm.
You feel a finger slowly enter you and you arch your back, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so new but so fucking nice. The pressure is higher than when you did it on camera for him, his finger bigger than yours.
“There you go,” he coaches as he pushes deeper inside of you. “Shit, it’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna cum in a second, baby, I know it.”
“Fuck, Rafe,” you mumble. “It feels amazing.”
He adds a second finger, working in and out to stretch you out some more. You push back against his fingers to encourage him to go deeper.
“I want to fuck your ass so hard right now,” he groans on the verge of a whine.
“Do it,” you say. “I’m ready. Do it.”
His fingers pull out of you and you feel him spit on you, warm saliva dribbling over your opening. Finally, you feel the tip of his cock start to push into your ass.
The pressure stings as he buries into you and you try not to slump, you try to stay firm for him.
“Oh, my God,” he moans as he fills you. “Fucking… Oh, my fuck…”
His raw, untamed rambling gives you a sense of willpower to stay still and ignore your body’s impulse to pull away from the unfamiliar pain.
Rafe finally presses his base against your ass, filling your hole up completely.
He retreats, giving you some relief, then pounds into you again. The feeling is a good pain as he starts to thrash in and out, his fingers so tight on your hips that you know he’ll bruise you.
He pulls away a hand and you suddenly feel a hard smack on your ass that makes you gasp. He keeps fucking you hard, plunging in and out with a frenzied pace.
“You like it, princess?” he says between breaths. “You like it up the ass? I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Yes,” you groan, the feeling pleasurable now that you’re getting used to it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
“It’s not just your pussy that’s mine, is it?” he taunts. “It’s your ass. Your mouth. Your tits. All of you. Fucking all of you.”
His claim of ownership on you is so fucking intoxicating that you almost forget all this is supposed to be is hot, casual sex.
You push away the thought, refusing to let it ruin things. This is just fun. This is all this is.
“Goddamn, and you were just…” he groans as he keeps fucking you. “You were just… fuck, just always around and looking so fucking hot. I never thought I’d get to fuck you.”
You bite your lip at his words, lost in the feeling of a man wanting you this bad. Of Rafe wanting you this bad. You knew he loved to tease you, but shit, he was yearning for you this much whenever you came to clean his house?
“Oh, fuck…” Rafe’s deep voice gives out as you feel him pulse his hot cum into you, his body jerking against you.
He eventually slowly pulls out and you feel his hand slowly rub over the curve of your ass.
“Stay like this,” he says. “I wanna watch my cum drip out of you.” Just when you think he can’t get any filthier, Rafe surprises you. Every damn time.
Once he’s satisfied, you feel him plant a kiss on your ass before he shifts away to put on his underwear.
Your smile is slack as you drop onto your side, hand resting on your forehead. You feel utterly fucked out. He didn’t lie. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You watch his chest rise and fall when he lies down next to you.
Again, Rafe surprises you that he’s staying, even if it’s just a little while. He seems like such a fuck and chuck kind of guy. It’s what you expected. Kind of what you welcomed.
He looks at you, amused by how hard you’re gasping for breath.
“Damn, you won’t even need your heat on tonight, huh?” Rafe says. “Gave you a whole fucking workout.”
“If it’ll be like this every night, I’ll cancel,” you joke lazily.
“Cancel?”
“Mhm,” you say tiredly, eyes closing.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean?” you whisper.
He says your name stern enough that you pop open your eyes.
“I’ll cancel the appointment,” you clarify.
“They didn’t already fix it?”
“Tomorrow was the soonest they could do.” His brows furrow in what looks like anger. You can’t help but chuckle a little. “What’s the big deal?”
“So, you spend another night cold?”
“It’s not that bad,” you say. “I have lots of blankets… and…” You yawn. “A space heater… and… my pajamas…”
You realize you’re lying on top of a thin sheet completely naked but you’re too exhausted to care that you’ll wake up cold. It’s like Rafe fucked the energy out of you.
“I have to lock the door behind you,” you remember. You sit up, rubbing your eyes so you stay alert. “I don’t know if you realized but this isn’t a gated community.”
“Should I… uh, do you want a hotel room or something?” Rafe asks.
You look at him, his head on your pillow, his hair a mess, and offer him a confused smile.
“Hotel?” you repeat.
“If it’s gonna be cold in here.”
“Oh, that radiator has broken a million times,” you say. “I’ve survived a lot of cold nights. I don’t need a penthouse suite.”
Rafe gazes at you with an indistinguishable look.
You feel a bit awkward now. You know he’ll leave eventually, but if he doesn’t do it now, you’ll pass out and he’ll leave the door unlocked.
You stand to keep yourself awake, finding a clean pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.
“Same time tomorrow?” you try to joke.
“I can stay and…” he says. He sits up, his hair falling over his forehead, his stomach flexing. “Uh, I can… hold you. If you want. So you’re not cold.”
You stand in the middle of your small room, looking down at Rafe, and can’t help but notice how out of place he looks. His large, half-naked frame on your small double bed, his expensive clothes drawn out on your squeaky, scratched up floor, offering to cuddle you to sleep.
This is supposed to be purely sexual. You’ve been having fun and adding to your bank account, while letting him live out his fantasies to sexually and financially dominate the help. That’s all you are to him: a depraved cam girl who cleans his house. Right?
But now, he’s acting… well, nice. Like he’s not just a fuck buddy who gets turned on by giving you money and buying you things. And it’s unexpected.
You’re not sure what to do.
{ read part six here }
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bookwormjust · 2 months ago
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Slow healing (established relationship, Azriel’s mate)
You winced as the glass slipped from your hand, shattering on the floor. Without thinking, you knelt to clean it up, but a sharp pain shot through your palm as a shard embedded itself in your skin. Blood welled up immediately, and your heart sank. This was the third time this week you’d hurt yourself. And this time, you knew Azriel would see the blood.
Sure enough, he appeared almost instantly, his shadows curling protectively around you. His sharp intake of breath made your stomach twist. His eyes went wide with panic as he rushed forward, his hands gently gripping yours to inspect the wound. "You’re hurt," he muttered, his voice low but strained. 
“It’s just a small cut,” you said softly, trying to ease his worry. But you knew better. With your slow healing, even a minor injury like this would take days to fully close up, leaving you vulnerable in ways that the rest of the Fae never had to worry about. And Azriel hated that—hated that you weren’t healing as fast as everyone else, hated that you were always one step away from real harm. 
He cursed softly under his breath, his wings flaring out slightly, a sign of his growing tension. His hands, usually so gentle, were trembling as he pulled you to the sink and began cleaning the cut. "You can’t keep doing this," he whispered, though there was no anger in his voice, only fear. "You’re not like everyone else, love. You can’t heal quickly, and I—I can’t stand to see you like this."
You could feel the weight of his worry, the way it pressed down on him like a physical burden. He had always been overprotective, but ever since he realized that your healing regeneration was so much slower than others, his instinct to keep you safe had intensified. 
When you bumped into a piece of furniture or cut yourself while cooking, it was never just a small injury to him. He saw each bruise, each scratch, as a threat. And you couldn’t blame him. You knew how much he loved you, how deeply the bond ran between you. But it was suffocating sometimes, the way he hovered, his shadows constantly watching, ready to intervene at the slightest sign of danger.
"I’m fine, Azriel," you said, placing your hand over his, trying to calm him. But his eyes were stormy, and he shook his head.
"No," he replied firmly. "You’re not. Every time you get hurt, it’s worse because you don’t heal like the others. You could get an infection, or worse—" His voice broke, and his wings sagged as he lowered his head. "I just... I can’t lose you."
Your heart softened at the raw vulnerability in his words. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. "You won’t lose me, Azriel. I promise you. But you can’t keep wrapping me in shadows every time something happens. I’m not fragile."
His hands tightened around yours, his shadows curling anxiously at your feet. "To me, you are. You don’t heal like we do, and it terrifies me."
You let out a breath, pulling him into a hug. His wings folded around you, creating a warm, protective cocoon. "I know you want to protect me," you whispered against his chest. "But I’m still here. I’ll be careful, I promise. Just... try to trust me a little."
Azriel exhaled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I’ll try. But don’t ask me to stop worrying. You’re too important to me."
And though you knew he’d never fully stop being overprotective, you also knew that no matter what, you’d always be safe in his arms—even when the world wasn’t.
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yaksha-lover · 1 year ago
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Summary: After the events of ghost bride, Vil and Leona decide to continue their competition to determine who is the best suitor. They decide you, being new to the school, are the best option to try and romance.
Multi x GN Reader (Leona, Vil, Ace, Deuce, Floyd, Rook, Azul, Malleus)
Part 2
“Yeah, whatever, you failed too. Doesn’t mean a thing. Any sane person would’ve chosen me over you,” Leona snarks.
“Prove it, then. Let’s choose someone else and we’ll be able to determine who the real winner is,” Vil replies, not bothering to look up from the compact he’s using to apply his makeup.
Leona’s ears perk a little at the idea, but he turns his nose up at it anyway. “Like who? Everyone at this school’s already stepping over each other to get a picture with you. Not exactly a fair competition, blondie.”
“Our dear prefect hasn’t been at the school long, and they’ve never known me as a celebrity since they’re from another world. It seems they would be the fairest way to continue our little competition,” Vil pauses, looking back over at Leona. “If that’s okay with you, your majesty.”
Leona rolls his eyes. “Old bride clearly had no taste. At least the prefect won’t have all these delusional biases about their ‘prince,’” he grumbles. “Fine, they’ll do.”
“Alright, then whoever can get them to accept an invitation to the upcoming semi-formal will be the winner.”
“Deal. Try not to feel too hurt by their rejection, it’s not as though you can compete with a real prince like myself.”
“I’m not worried, you hardly qualify as a prince, lazy second-son that you are. Unless you’re planning to actually try for once? Could it be you have another motivation for wooing the prefect?”
“As if I would go for a pathetic little herbivore like them. I’m in this to prove a point to you, that’s all,” Leona huffs. “You’re the one who suggested them. Projecting, are we?”
Vil smirks at his denial. “My, my, quite the tsundere little kitty you are. I have no reason to deny, I have become quite fond of them recently. Enough to stop you from becoming a perpetual nuisance in their life, at least.”
-
The next day, you sit at your usual lunch table with Ace, Deuce, and Grim, when a certain grumpy lion approaches you.
“Herbivores,” Leona says, narrowing his eyes at the sight of Grim devouring an entire leg of chicken. He turns his gaze to you. “Get up, prefect, I need to talk to you.”
“Kinda busy,” you mumble, mouth full of food.
“Why, hello prefect,” Vil greets, walking over from his table where Rook and Epel watch on. “Ah, let me get that for you.” He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, gently tilting your face when you look up at him and dabbing at the corner of your mouth. “Now you look perfect.” Vil looks up at Leona, saccharine smile ablaze. “Was this man bothering you?”
You ignore his strange behaviour and decide to just continue eating.
Leona glares at him, spotting the rose in Vil’s hand. “Aren’t you about to do the same thing, Schoenheit?”
Vil scoffs, glimpsing the small jewelry box Leona is subtly holding behind his back. “Hardly. I was simply checking in on my dear friend, who seemed distressed by your presence.”
Between Grim looking over at your food every two seconds and the bickering going on above your head, you decide to give in and let him have the rest of yours. “…I think I’m just going to leave.”
The two housewardens are too busy bickering to notice you making your escape, leaving them with the rest of your table.
“I never knew you felt so threatened by me. You really had to resort to sabotaging my attempts?”
“I was not! You just happened to be in the way of my own plans,” Vil dismisses.
Ace finally looks up from his lunch to address the situation. “What’s up with you, housewardens? Why are you hovering around the prefect like that?”
“Stick your nose out of this, freshman. It’s none of your business.”
Vil sighs. “If you must know, I wish to ask the prefect to attend the semi-formal as my date. I came to ask them.”
Ace looks back in forth in surprise between Vil and Leona. “You too, Leona? Huh, never figured you’d be interested in anyone but yourself.”
“Don’t lump me in with him. This is just a competition for me. Neither of us won when trying to charm the ghost, so now I’m going to take my victory over him.”
Ace relaxes a little at his words, turning to the other housewarden. “You’re doing this for a competition, Vil? I know Leona is shameless, but surely you’d never stoop to his level?”
“It’s not just for the competition. I do like the prefect, but now I have the chance to take them to the dance and to show Leona how much more charming I am than him.”
“I mean, I hate to rain on your guys parade but I think it’s a lost cause. The prefect definitely likes me. We’re best friends after all, so they’d probably choose me if I asked.” Ace says nonchalantly, earning him a glare from Deuce. “Not that I’m interested in them! Obviously, I don’t care. But, uh, if it’s a competition, of course I have to win.”
Deuce rolls his eyes: “You’re such an idiot. And wrong. I’m their best friend.”
“And where do you think you’re going?” Vil asks Leona when he starts to walk away.
“To nap. It’s exhausting dealing with you children. Try not to get in my way, next time,” Leona replies, not bothering to turn around as he saunters away.
-
The next time you’re approached by the housewardens is in the hallway after class. You jump in surprise when a hand reaches around your waist to pull you into an empty classroom. The long brown hair that tickles your face gives you a pretty good idea of who the culprit is.
“Prefect,” Leona greets casually , as if he didn’t just basically kidnap you with no explanation.
“What are you doing? Will you let go of me, please,” you sigh.
Leona loosens his grip and turns you around in his arms to face him. He brushes a hand over your cheek, tucking a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he says, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. He’s so close his breath brushes over your neck.” “For me to let go of you?”
“Leona?! I-”
Your response is interrupted by the sound of a bell and the noise of chatting students approaching the classroom you currently occupy. You and Leona fling apart, but there isn’t enough time for you to calm your flustered face before Floyd, just entering the room, is able to see it.
“Shrimpy! What are you doing in here with sea lion?” Floyd takes in your embarrassed expression. “You haven’t been doing anything naughty, have you? And without me?”
“Nothing happened, eel. Let’s go, prefect.”
“Now you’re trying to take shrimpy away after hogging them all to yourself?”
“Sorry, Floyd,” you appease, not wanting to get into another ridiculous situation, “but he’s right. I have a class to get to.”
“Class is boring. I’d much rather be playing with you, but suit yourself. I’ll just have to squeeze you sometime later!”
Leona trails behind you as you walk to your next class, demanding an explanation from him.
“So why did you try and seduce me?”
“Seduce? You’re so perverted. Have you forgotten I’m a prince? I was only trying to-”
His reasoning is interrupted by Crewel’s glare as you silently head into class and take your spot beside Ace, leaving Leona to get a talking to for making you late.
-
“Leona and Vil have both been acting so weird lately, and I don’t know why.”
You miss the side-eye Ace and Deuce give each other as they ‘uh huh’ your venting.
“So,” Ace says, leaning towards you a bit, “Have you heard of the upcoming dance?” He winces when Deuce kicks him from under the table. “It’s kinda stupid, but if you wanted to go-”
“Trappola! Quiet or you’ll have extra work to do after class.”
Crewel seemed to be saving you a lot today.
-
Later, you notice Vil ahead of you, walking by himself through the halls. He drops something on the ground, but walks away before you can call out to him. Picking up his dropped handkerchief, you rush after him, finding yourself in yet another dim, empty classroom.
“Vil?” you call. He turns around, and you hold his lost item out to him. “You dropped this.”
His eyes light up and he smiles when he sees what you’ve brought. “Oh! Thank you so much, dear.” He approaches you, suddenly dropping a kiss on your cheek, making your face heat up. He winks. “Just a little reward for your endless kindness.”
“Uh, it was nothing, really.”
“Nonsense!” Vil leans against the wall, filling your view. “In fact, let me repay you. Do you have some time now?”
Before you can respond, someone flickers the lights on, the brightness now revealing the room was less empty than you assumed. The sound of a violin fills your ears as you spot Rook in the corner of the room, playing beautifully. Epel stands in front of a small table, set with two plates and a vase of roses in the middle. He blushes a little when you spot him, giving you a gentle wave. Both of them wear suits. Epel approaches Vil to remove his school overcoat to put on a more traditional suit jacket.
Still lost in confusion, you let Vil guide you to your seat at the table. He sits down across from you, taking your hands into his. Epel brings out a slice of chocolate cake, setting it between you, before going to sit near Rook.
“Ah, I hope you don’t mind sharing, dear.” He winks again. “You know, I really would like to repay you for your act of kindness.”
“Did you just- have this all set up? In case you dropped something…? It’s really nothing, it took me literally two seconds to return.”
“So humble, it’s one of your many fantastic qualities. I am serious about treating you, though. You know the upcoming dance?” You nod, not liking where this is going. “How about I accompany-”
Before he can finish, the door flies open and Leona struts in. He, seemingly, is not fazed by this set up in the middle of an empty classroom.
He ignores Vil and the others completely, turning to you. “Prefect, we never finished our conversation from earlier,” he grumbles.
“You’re right. Sorry, Vil, but it would be rude to keep him waiting. I better just-”
“Please, I have something important to ask you. Just one moment of you time is all I ask.” Vil places him arm on your shoulder.
“They already made up their mind, Schoenheit. Back off, they wanna come with me.” Leona grabs hold of your hand, trying to tug you out of Vil’s grasp.
Vil does not give in, taking hold of your other hand. “Putting words into their mouth, Kingscholar? They were about to choose me.”
Stuck between the two of them, locked in a glaring contest, you try to pull your arms from both of them.
“Merveilleux!” Rook stops playing his violin, approaching the group of you. “To have two beautiful men trying to make you swoon, c’est le paradis!Would you like me to become a contender for your heart as well?” Rook sweeps his arms around you gently, before Leona pushes him off.
“Fuck off, I don’t need another one of you pomefiore brats swarming around them.”
Rook turns back to you. “He’s quite possessive, are you into that type of man, I wonder? I can be that type too~”
“I’ve gotta go,” you say, taking this chance to run out of the class.
-
You’re asked to sit in on a meeting with the teachers and housewardens, which Vil and Leona decide to use as their last opportunity to win once most of the others have left. Only you, Leona, Vil, and Azul remain, still packing up your things.
“Prefect? I apologize to bother you again, but if I could, I’d still love to ask you-”
Vil is, once again, interrupted before he can finish.
“Prefect,” Leona says, touching your cheek. You turn to face him just in time for him to pull out a jewelry box from his pocket, popping it open in front of you. “I-”
“What the hell? Are you actually proposing to me?!”
“What are you on about?” It’s only then that Leona seems to realize your confusion. “A ring, Ruggie?? I said get something nice, not a ring!”
Ruggie strolls in from around the corner, shrugging. “I’ve never even seen jewelry this expensive before. How would I know what you wanted me to get? I’ll take it if they don’t want it.” He pauses, suddenly remembering something. “Also, did you still want me to bring in the flowers? There’s four hundred roses just sitting in the other room.”
You turn back to Leona incredulously. “Why did you send Ruggie to- Forget it, why have you guys been acting so strange?”
“Leona and Vil made a bet on who could get you to agree to go as their date to the semi-formal. It seems their small, fragile egos were quite bruised from their rejection by the ghost bride,” Azul interjects, finally looking up from his book at the corner of the table.
Vil stares at him. “You truly have no loyalty nor shame.”
“Says you,” you quip.
“Yes, it’s quite pitiful. I heard rumours and used my resources to discover the truth. I thought you deserved to know, prefect.” Azul stands from his chair, approaching where you’re sitting to place a hand on your shoulder. “Now, if you still wanted to attend the event with someone who wasn’t planning on manipulating you into it, I would be happy to offer my services.”
Your narrowed eyes prompts Azul’s swift apology.
“Ah, I see now was not the correct time. I shall make my exit.” He leaves the room along with Ruggie, leaving you three alone.
“What is wrong with both of you? You didn’t learn your lesson with Eliza? It’s messed up to play with a person’s feelings like this, I’m not your little prop.”
“Prefect-” Vil starts, cutting himself off at the look you give him.
You give them each one last glare before walking out the door, barely hiding your laughter.
-
“You’re quite the actor, my dear,” Malleus says, slipping your hand into his own as the two of you walk towards Ramshackle.
“I know,” you laugh, “Did you see their faces? I think that’s the first time in his life Leona’s ever looked guilty. His tail was definitely between his legs.”
“Yes, it was rather unbecoming of him,” Malleus chuckles, before stopping his stride. “Although, you could have simply let them know you already belong to another.”
“True, but it shouldn’t really matter. It’s not as though they’re actually interested. They clearly just think of me as some kind of prize to win in an ego competition. Plus, it’ll certainly make a scene when we walk in to the dance together, won’t it?”
Malleus sighs, pulling you into his arms to drop a kiss on your head, before continuing to walk you home. “You are far too naive, my love. Not to worry, you have me to protect you from those beasts.”
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unorthodoxfaithxx · 10 months ago
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Yandere JJK - Yuta Okkotsu
When you leave for a month long mission without telling your close friend and maybe crush, Yuuta. You come back and he’s cracked. 
It’d been two months since you left on a mission, only now being able to return back to Japan. When you arrived home to your shared apartment, you had expected a warm welcome from your kind and courteous friend, Yuuta. You imagined he’d tell you, “Welcome home,” ask how your trip was, and offer to make dinner like he usually did on days he felt adventurous enough to cook. The two of you lived pretty harmoniously together, both being capable sorcerers with similar demeanors and all.
What you didn’t expect was to be shoved against the wall of the flat’s narrow hallway kabedon style, body pressed flush against your roommate’s, who had a look on his face like he hadn’t been sleeping for weeks and just found out the cure to his insomnia was something ridiculously simple, bordering on relief and hysteria. 
“Where. Have you been.” He practically growled, your heart beating at an odd pace since he was barely an inch away from your face.
“Uhnn, on a mission. But great news-I’m back home and won’t be working for a bit, aha?” You broke eye contact, unable to withstand the cold intensity of his dark eyes. 
“And you left without telling me? Without telling anyone?” 
“Well, to be fair it was a secret mission! It wasn’t to be disclosed and even then I knew it’d only make you worry and you’d probably end up trying to tag along somehow. I didn’t want to distract you from your work, Yu.”
Your explanation didn’t do much to help calm his nerves. You could tell he was obviously worked up, he was breathing hard, his arms were shaking, and his newfound grip on your shoulders was soul crushing. You knew your friend was strong, but the fact that you couldn’t move at all from your position was impressive. 
“So you just up and left? That’s not fair,” His languid voice spoke with quiet rage. He was never one to raise his voice, not even now. “You don’t get to decide that. What if you had died? What if something happened and nobody from home knew anything about it? Would you be okay with leaving everyone behind? Leaving me?” 
“No…I mean…I wouldn’t want that. I mean hey, I’m here! We’re good now, right? I’m fine! We’re fine.” You said this last part with no confidence, “…Are we?”
Yuuta took a step back, staring at the wall next to you because he couldn’t stand to look at you. “No. We’re not.” 
He let you go, moving to turn back to his room. You grabbed his shoulder. “Hey-wait! I know you’re upset. I would be too. But please, don’t ignore me. I was so lonely on my own, now that I’m back I…well, is it too selfish to say I want you by my side? I missed you a lot.” Your abandonment issues were about to be the death of you.
“You trampled on my feelings, completely disregarding how I’d feel, and now you want pity?”
You deflated. “No. Just. I just want you. I’m sorry for hurting you, Yuta. I didn’t mean it, really.”
A minute of silence passed you both. You felt like you were about to cry. You sniffled. “I really am sorry.” 
He stared at the ground, muttering a soft curse before looking back at you, slowly opening his arms. He sighed. “I can never stay mad at you. I missed you too. C’mere.” 
And you nearly leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. His scowl broke, turning into an ever so slight smile. 
Coming home wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 
You thought the two of you were cool and were about to offer to order take-out when he threw you over his shoulder, went to his room, and threw you on the bed, locking the door promptly behind him. 
“Uhhhh, Yuuta?” You asked. “Watcha doing?”
He chuckled darkly. “You confessed to me before your mission, right? And then you bolted before I could even respond. Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think about how I should reply in the past months you were gone. And this is my response.”
Your face grew red. How could you have forgotten about that? 
He crawled on the bed after you, leering over you like a tiger would its prey. 
“I love you. More than anything in the world. And when I noticed you left and had no idea when you’d be back, or if you’d come back at all? I thought I’d go crazy. It took everything in me to not kill the elites that ordered you on the mission and drag you back home myself.” He had you caged between his arms again, voice dropping to something thick and heavy at his next words, “I decided that when you came back, if you ever came back, I wouldn’t let you go anymore. I want you by my side forever. And even then forever’s no where near enough.”
“Quite the romantic, are you big guy?”
He smirked at that. “I’ve had enough time to study up on the type of guys you like.” You shivered when you felt his lips glide across your neck, a rough hand slowly sneaking up your stomach, beneath your clothes. 
“You’re mine tonight. And forever.”
Tonight was going to be a loooooooong night. 
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dipperscavern · 4 months ago
Note
yes dippy we should talk about bi cregan with bi reader!!
imagine them recruiting northern hotties for threesomes 🤭
mmf: cregan with another man (preferably jace) giving her that double worship. cregan always has the upper hand ofc even when it's not a twink but another big broody northern they're sharing their bed with. and when cregan gets to top him while he eats her out and she holds eye contact with cregan as he's fucking that guy.
ffm: it's either the same way that she is the center of attention OR cregan and her tagteam that other woman and fuck her stupid. cregan with his big fat uncut cock and her with her tongue and fingers while cregan fucks the other woman.
- respectful anon
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pairing: cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon x reader
authors note: oh respectful anon… i read (preferably jace) and absolutely shuddered. oh my god . i’m sorry the other ideas in here are wonderful too i just have to get this out before i go off my rocker
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jacaerys arriving in the north, bearing the colors of queen rhaenyra, and being greeted by cregan stark — and his comely wife.
he can feel his breath hitch as soon as he slides off vermax and spots you, arm wrapped around cregans bicep. even though the snow crunches under his boots and the early winter winds seep beneath his clothing, jace feels his skin run hot. and this time, he cannot blame it on the blood of the dragon.
once you approach, jace gives you both a respectful nod of his head, before cregan greets jacaerys with a firm handshake. jace takes your hand, kissing your knuckles, and says the tales do not do your beauty (they don’t). you only smile, dipping into a small curtsy and playfully telling him not to make you blush.
he spares a glance at cregan, a small worry of overstepping dancing in his gaze, but cregan only nods — a smirk adorning the lord of winterfells lips.
the very lips that have grown accustomed to the feel of yours.
the thought is shooed away as quickly as it arises. you’re married, and jace feels a pang of disappointment at the places his mind has a tendency to wander to. you’re extending your hospitality to him, he won’t disrespect you with such concepts (won’t he?).
once having vermax sorted, you & cregan then escort him to winterfell. cregan speaks of the north and its history, and jace replies when necessary, but he finds his gaze drifting from the lord of winterfell, and landing on the lady attracted to his side instead. jace, no matter how much internal scolding, finds himself ceaselessly returning to quietly study (admire) your features.
as you enter the castle, jace notices your cheeks are flushed from the cold. cregan, mid sentence, silently ushers you towards the nearest hall fire with the unforeseen hand on the small of your back. something unfamiliar stirs in him at the sight (want).
they swore vows to each other in sight of the northern gods, chides jaces inner voice.
but, no matter how much restraint he expresses, as his stay continues, he finds himself enamored.
enamored with the playful glimmer in your eyes, the way your hips sway as you walk, how your dress hugs your curves, your light teasing, your love for lemon cakes, how you always catch jacaerys’ eye even from across the room. he’s utterly, hopelessly enthralled.
and even worse, he’s given himself away
you, jace, and cregan have been proper. careful not to overstep, but aware enough to silently acknowledge the underlying tension that sits between you. jacaerys would’ve been content with this dynamic for the entirety of his visit, it would’ve been a good exercise of self control — if the day in the kitchens didn’t change everything.
the skies weep, the raindrops making a soft pattering noise on the windows all around the castle. it's a brief change in atmosphere, and gives him time to get used to the more intimate aspects of winterfell.
rain trapping you inside, you and cregan had offered to give jacaerys a proper tour of winterfell, to rectify the short one he had been given upon his arrival.
this particular instance, that made him run as hot as his temper, takes place as the tour winded to an end, and you all ended up in the kitchens. the same kitchens that jace, when supping with you both from then on out, can't stop thinking about.
you had pulled them in, relishing in the idea of swiping a few small pastries to hold your sweet tooth over until dinner - assuring him that the cooks were quite used to you and cregans troublemaking, & were sworn to secrecy with a toothy grin (his heart skipped a beat at the sight).
you had been successful in your "stealing", but the problem arose when cregan had been conversing with one of the cooks, as you and jace stood over the counter, bringing the two small lemon cakes to your mouth.
you were conversing about something — what that was, jacaerys couldn’t remember if his life depended on it. once finished with your pastries, you had some leftover cream on the corner of your mouth. of course, since you're the worst minx to ever bewitch him, you raise a thumb to the corner of your mouth, swiping it off. then (of course), you bring it to your lips, maintaining eye contact with jace, and (of course) suck it off.
whatever he was saying had instantly died on his tongue.
his response was his parted lips trying to bring in air to send to his lungs so he could breathe, but, of course, you seem to have taken his breath too. suddenly the kitchen feels hot, ovens contributing to a warm atmosphere that had quickly turned blazingly overwhelming.
his gaze stayed trapped on where your thumb met your (soft looking) lips, as every part of the white cream had been sucked off.
you were most surprised & pleased by his reaction, indeed. you had an inkling the prince might be taken with you, but you wouldn’t act without certainty. and here you had it, certainty of the utmost stature had fallen right into your hands — watching his gaze flicker from your eyes, to your lips, your cleavage... and back to your lips again.
cregans voice snaps jacaerys out of the trance he had found himself in, and he’s ashamed to say he had to ask cregan to repeat himself. if he wasn’t devoting all of his energy into acting normal, he would see the way cregan glanced at you with raised brows seeing the smile on your face.
regardless of how it came to be, you’ve caught on. and jacaerys is seriously considering how dearly he’d be missed if the ground were to open up & swallow him whole.
your actions now have a certain weight behind them, confidence guiding your every step. hands “accidentally” brushing each other, glances from across the room, subconsciously leaning into each others warmth, flirtatious “jests” that grow bolder by the day, always teetering on the line of jesting and meaning it (you always mean it). you fix his crooked tunic for him, shifting it the right way. jacaerys pretends the warmth emanating from your hands doesn’t make him dizzy.
still, even so, jace had been showing remarkable restraint — not allowing his princely regime to falter (much), and keeping in his remarks. until you both spoke about vermax.
you stood atop one of winterfells walls, watching vermax fly, dipping in & out of the clouds. he was beautiful, and jacaerys would never abandon the opportunity of a conversation with you (or about vermax, of course).
jace told you of how vermax hatched in his crib as a babe, and you wistfully remark on your childhood dreams of dragonriding. he tells you you'd make a fearsome dragonrider. you say you'd made a good dragon rider indeed, but, instead of looking at vermax, jace finds your gaze fixed on him.
you poorly conceal the hidden tone of voice indicating you don't mean the green-scaled dragon in the sky above you, but the chocolate-curled dragon next to you. you don't do a good job of hiding the grin that threatens to erupt on your face, either.
jace feels a furious blush adorn his face, and the corners of his mouth tug up in a repressed smirk. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, his smile turning upside down as his gaze shifts back to vermax's soaring form.
"You speak truly. Any man would envy the dragon."
he pretends not to see the smile spreading across your face from his peripheral. you lean in closer to him, wrapping a hand around his bicep to punctuate your words.
"Men already envy you, My Prince."
he keeps his resolve as you walk away, but as soon as you're out of sight, he sighs — leaning his weight against the edge of the top of the wall, a shuddering exhale leaving his lips. gods have mercy on jacaerys velaryon.
after you sup for dinner, you and cregan escort him to his chambers, and jace feels taking on the entire green army by itself would be easier than this. trying to conceal his eyes being trapped on you, furious desire mounting in his stomach as guilt claws it’s way up his throat. it’s only by stroke of luck that you all walk in silence — he could not entertain a proper conversation if he tried.
does cregan know of your conversation? what would he say? what would he do? the very last thing he needs to be doing is disrespecting the warden of the north that he’s trying to ally.
these thoughts echo in his mind as you approach the door leading to his chambers. you three stop, jaces back to the heavy oak door as you and cregan stand in front of him.
“We shall see you in the morn, then.” says cregan.
jace nods, but his next words die on his tongue as you move from cregans side. his heart hammers in his chest as you saunter to him, standing on your tiptoes as your hand moves to cup his cheek. he subconsciously leans down for you, and you press a kiss onto the corner of his mouth, a breath to the right away from his lips.
seven save him.
his lips part with bated breath, eyes locked onto you as you pull away. his hands twitch with the need to pull you to him, and then he remembers your husband that’s standing right in front of you both.
jaces eyes widen, looking to cregan, but cregan only tilts his head.
his lips… is he smiling? as they hold eye contact, he spots amusement, content, and want (?) in cregans gaze, and then, the smallest of nods.
oh.
oh.
jace’s gaze flickers from cregan, to you, and back and forth a few more times. his breathing is unsteady as you return to cregans side, and you can’t (or don’t) hide your pleasure at his reaction.
“Goodnight, My Prince.”
he cant even manage a nod as you both turn to walk away, cregan shooting him one last look. the flustered prince of dragonstone retreats to his chambers, leaning his head against his closed & locked door — moving to fiddle with the laces of his breeches.
you and your husband certainly make quite the pair. cregan, steadfast, burly, & brooding (handsome), with a reserved playfulness only for you — and you, teasing, warm, & confident, with a seemingly reserved deliberateness to drive jacaerys crazy (not that it takes much, of course).
one night, when he thinks he's completely lost any hope of sanity, the gods decide to have a sort of cruel mercy on him.
it is lord boltons name day, and he has extended the planned celebrations invitation to jacaerys as well. you three depart as one, opting to travel by horseback instead of jace arriving on vermax days before you and cregan. most are surprised by his decision, indeed (did jace sacrifice his freedom on dragonback for the prospect of spending more time with you both?).
jace didn't know you rode horses. he acts like the swaying of your hips doesn't capture him, distracting him throughout the entire journey. you and cregan act like you don't notice (do you?)
you all arrive, and on the day of celebrations, allow the wine & northern ale to wash away your sins down your throat. cregans tolerance is highest, jace's is lowest, with you resting in the middle. his cheeks are flushed, and his prided self control has seemed to have left itself at winterfell. you converse with one another in a secluded corner, allowing everyone else to fade from view. you speak with loose tongues, and jacaerys feels cregans hand on the back of his neck, thumb creeping into his hairline.
you speak of the festivities, the travel, the gossip, dragonstone, and jaces own interests. he can see something lurking beneath your usual gaze, you were hiding something. your eyes flickered with uncertainty. no — you wanted to know something.
and then, the very question that broke the damn - sweltering with the combined pent up desire allowed to built over the last weeks.
"Are you untouched, My Prince?"
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niningtori · 5 months ago
Text
cruel intentions | part two
part one
pairing: choi beomgyu x you
summary: in the wake following the revelation that your boyfriend, beomgyu, only dated you for a bet in order to get his rent paid, you're actually doing pretty well. on beomgyu's end? he can't say the same.
genre: romance, angst, melodrama, fluff
warnings: clichés everywhere
word count: 3.8k
notes: she's here! i fear that this might be super corny and somewhat abrupt but that's fine i think!
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beomgyu is not okay. he really, really isn’t. how could anyone expect anything other than that? it’s been a year since he saw you last, but he’s starting to believe that whoever said time heals all wounds was just blowing smoke up his ass. if anything, the longer he’s spent away from you, the worse his heart aches. that’s natural, he supposes, because you’re definitely the one that got away, and the fact that he drove you to leave only twists the knife. he wishes he could go back to the day he agreed to that stupid fucking bet and wring his own neck — maybe that'd talk some sense into his old self. but like you said all that time ago, he can’t. he even wishes he could go back to the first day of freshman year just so he could meet you sooner. that way, he could have been in your life and alleviated some of the stress and pain you always felt. but, and he cannot stress this enough, he can’t.
you may have blocked him on everything he can think of, but that doesn’t stop him from asking about you. luckily, taehyun made good on his intentions to get to know you better before realizing that you were the girl beomgyu had secretly been dating for months. as a good friend, taehyun declared you as totally off-limits, but that didn’t stop your all’s friendship from blossoming. as it is, your friendship with taehyun is only rivaled by your friendship with chaeyoung — a fact that she is all too aware of.
“when are you gonna stop beating around the bush and just get with him already?” she pouts.
“never,” you snort. “i told you, we’re friends and nothing else.”
“i know, i know, but i think he’d be good for you,” she insists.
“you’re only saying that ‘cause you’re worried he’ll replace you as my best friend, which he won’t, by the way,” you tease.
“you caught me,” she says playfully. 
truthfully, your friendship with chaeyoung has only strengthened after graduation. with the help of your therapist and a certain someone whose name you can’t bear to speak these days, you finally grew enough courage to tell her how you’ve felt like you were nothing more than her shadow since you were a preteen. you even told her about all of the times men (and women alike) only talked to you to get to her. to say she was horrified is the understatement of the century. after endless reassurances that you bore no ill will towards her and didn’t fault her for anything, she finally stopped apologizing. now, you two are closer than ever. 
“it’s just… i want to see you happy with someone,” she adds. she doesn’t have to end her sentence with  “again”, since you already know what she means: she wants to see you as happy as you were with beomgyu, again. except, for real this time. not for a bet or for fun.
“it’s okay, chae,” you say with a smile. “i’m happy as i am, i mean it.” and you do. working in your desired career field has helped you tremendously with income, and you’re actually able to provide for yourself and for your family without killing yourself with working overtime. you have so much free time, you're even able to date around a little bit. it never amounts to anything particularly serious, but it’s enough as it is. gone is the permanent storm cloud looming over your head and you’re finally able to breathe for the first time since, well, your relationship with beomgyu.
“i know,” she replies. “i just want my best friend to be even happier; is that so bad?” you roll your eyes good naturedly and she grins. 
“who knows? maybe i’ll meet someone tonight,” you muse, but you don’t really mean it. taehyun, or “tyun” as you affectionately call him, is having a get together at his place. he hinted at bringing some of his single friends, but you don’t expect anything to come of it. while it’s true that with the help of therapy and being completely honest about the nature of your inferiority complex with your best friend has helped boost your confidence, you never expect much from prospective romantic partners. you’ll never say it, but everyone knows it’s because of beomgyu.
“maybe. y’know, soobin is pretty cute,” she says with a nod, taking everything you say way too seriously. 
“yeah. he is.” 
-
while you have been to many, many events taehyun has invited you to, there has always been an unspoken rule that beomgyu would not be there. it seems that taehyun is able to perfectly juggle you two without having you all appear at the same place at the same time. that is, until you arrive at his apartment with a big smile and a 12-pack of beer and see the man who haunts you religiously sitting listlessly on taehyun’s couch. he doesn’t usually care enough to look up from his drink when new arrivals step foot through the door, but for some odd reason, he does when you walk in. it’s almost as if his truly supernatural intuition tells him to. unfortunately for you, his intuition is a pain in your fucking ass. 
when you meet eyes (lock eyes, really) you feel a pit of dread bloom in your stomach, threatening to swallow you whole. still, there’s a light fluttering of your heart that you wish to god you could deny, but it’s there, nonetheless.
you all stay in a deadlock for what feels like a lifetime before taehyun pulls you from it with a smile and hug.
“i’m glad you made it,” he says lightly. 
“of course, tyun,” you smile, successfully pulled out from your daze and back into the real world. it’s okay. you can do this. you’re a different person now that a year has passed. you’re mature enough to be in the same place as beomgyu. what you’re not mature enough for, though, is actually having to speak to him. luckily, you have no plans to do so now (or ever). 
beomgyu thinks… differently. 
when you’re standing in a quiet corner nursing a drink and wondering what the hell you’re still doing here, you almost miss the sound of feet shuffling towards you. your eyes lazily glance up and see beomgyu himself unsurely leaning against the wall next to you. 
“h-hey,” he says softly, cautiously. you look confused for a second, almost like you’re unsure if he’s addressing you, but his eyes look so earnest, there's no way he’s not. 
“hey?” you reply before fussing with your cup and watching the alcohol swirl around, threatening to spill over the rim of your solo cup.
“uh, how… how have you been?” he asks so nervously that it sounds like he’s surprised that you even responded. and he is. if he were you, he wouldn’t give himself the time of day. why would he? he doesn't deserve it.
“good,” you say with a ghost of a genuine smile. if he knew you less, he wouldn’t even be able to catch it. thankfully, he does know you, for better or for worse. his heart sings at the thought that you’re able to smile at him like you did before.
he waits for you to ask him how he is — that’d be the perfect segue into his apology — but you don’t. it’s like you don’t care to know, and any tune his heart was previously singing is strangled in an instant.
well, he supposes that he’s lucky that you’ve even said two words to him (two words in the literal sense that you’ve only actually said two words in total, but that's not the point). he’s even luckier that you actually seem to mean that you’re doing well. taehyun had told him as much, but it’s not nearly as effective as seeing you glowing the way you do with his own eyes. you look normal. you look happy. there was a point in his life where he thought that’s all he wanted, but he realizes he was wrong. he shamelessly wants to be happy, too, and he knows the only way he can do that is if he’s with you.
the air is awkward and heavy for a few minutes, but neither of you make a move to break it until you decide enough is enough. you purse your lips and are about to bid him goodbye so you can get home and ruminate on your very, very brief interaction, but he notices your movement and reaches out to grab your arm before he can stop himself. instinctively, you smack his hand away. not hard at all, more like a swipe than a smack, really, but he recoils as if you’ve just backhanded him.
“s-sorry,” you stammer. “it was just a gut reaction.” 
somehow, that makes him feel even worse. there was a time where his touch soothed you like nothing else, but now all it does is put you on your guard. 
“it’s fine,” he says with a forced smile, and your heart aches. “i was just gonna see if you wanted a ride home. i haven’t drank anything, so i just thought that… maybe…”
“oh, it’s okay,” you politely decline. “chae is going to pick me up.” he flinches at the name and as much as he wishes you couldn’t tell, you definitely do. 
“but i can take you!” he insists a little too desperately. “i just thought, you know, that we could talk or something,” he mumbles. 
“talk? about what?” you ask sharply. you begin feeling like you’re going to lose your temper. why is he making this so hard? it’s starting to piss you off.
“i—”
“if you’re going to apologize to me again, i don't want to hear it,” you sneer. you said you weren't mad at him and that you forgave him, which felt true at the time, but the more you started respecting yourself, the less patience you had for him. as you look at him, looking like he's every part like a victim in this ordeal, you realize that you’re angrier than you previously let on. “you know, i’ve thought more about what you did.” he looks like he’s just been kicked in the stomach, but you don't stop.
“and i’ve thought about what i would do for rent. i thought, ‘well, maybe if i were desperate enough for the money, i could do that, too’, and you know how desperate i was.” his lips tremble because he does know. he knows it all too well. “but i realized i couldn’t, and even if i could, i never would. the shame? the humiliation? i would never put someone through that, and i thought you would never, either, but i was wrong. i was wrong about you and the kind of person you are, or were, or whatever. and i thought, at the very least, you had enough decency to at least leave me the fuck alone, but i guess i was wrong about you again, as always.” you don’t mean for your voice to get so loud, but it does. each syllable is ripping through beomgyu like a punch to his gut, but he can’t find it within himself to defend his actions. all he can do is sit there and take it. 
devastated doesn’t even begin to encapsulate how beomgyu looks and feels, but you don’t really give a shit. you’re absolutely fuming right now, nearly shaking from releasing the anger you’ve felt for months, and he has the nerve to look like the one who’s hurt? what about you? what about how you felt when your boyfriend admitted he only dated you because he needed (more like wanted) the cash?
“babe…” you hear a familiar voice say. chaeyoung. she must be here to pick you up. your attention snaps from her to the rest of the room and you finally register that everyone has gone silent, all their stares directed towards you. embarrassed isn’t even the word. mortified is more like it. you awkwardly clear your throat and take one last scathing glance at beomgyu before grabbing chaeyoung’s arm and storming outside of taehyun’s place.
the ride home is silent — unsettlingly silent — until chaeyoung pipes up after a few minutes of driving.
“why don’t you just talk to him?” chaeyoung asks tentatively.
“what?!” you exclaim, whipping your head around to meet her gaze. 
“it’s just — i mean, i don’t think it would hurt anything if you tried,” she says cautiously, which is very, very much unlike her. 
“why? i thought you, of all people, would understand. you know what he did to me.”
“i’m not defending him, honey,” she coos, as if she’s soothing a child during a tantrum. “i’m always on your side. always.”
“then why are you saying i should hear him out? i thought you hated him!” you don't really know why, but you’re becoming more and more defensive as you speak to her. 
“i did hate him. i just think there’s more to it than that. why don't you talk me through how you’re feeling?” she suggests.
“i… i just don’t understand. i’m not who i used to be — i’m not some spineless doormat who lets people treat me like shit. don’t you think so?” you ask, sounding increasingly unsure about that sentiment to the point where it’s nearly laughable. 
“what does that have to do with hearing somebody out when you clearly want to?” she argues patiently.
“it’s just… it’s just not fair!” you exclaim. “it’s not fair how he used me. i had to try so fucking hard to rebuild myself after him.”
“as much as i love you, you and i both know you weren’t rebuilding yourself; you never had that foundation in the first place, and that’s not your fault, but it’s not beomgyu’s, either. it’s true that he treated you like shit, and you don’t have to forgive him for that, but how you felt about yourself was always so much bigger than him.”
you find yourself recoiling with each point she makes.
you hate how much she makes sense. 
“b-but still, i’m different now,” you argue, more like you’re convincing yourself instead of her. “i won’t let myself fall back into him like that.” 
“don't you trust yourself to make the right decisions? people change — you know that better than anyone. look, i’m not saying you have to or should do anything, but i think it’d be good for you to at least listen to him. you’re not doing yourself any favors by torturing yourself with ‘what if’s’ instead of just, well, talking to him.”
-
you think about it, and think about it, then think about it some more. you wonder what beomgyu could say to change anything he's done before realizing that it's impossible. but maybe chaeyoung's right, maybe he did change. does that matter, though? probably not, but you still find yourself wanting to know what he has to say. maybe you'll find it within yourself to finally let him go.
you unblock his number and, before you can think too much about it, you’re calling him. it doesn’t ring more than once before you hear the line connect.
“h-hello?”
“i’ve thought about it, and i'd like to talk.” 
“s-sure. uh, when?” he stammers.
“whenever.”
“i'll be there in 15,” he hurriedly says, as if wasting a single second will lead you to change your mind.
“okay,” you reply with a soft smile on your face, hanging up shortly thereafter.
12 minutes later, you hear a frantic knocking on your door. you open it to find beomgyu out of breath and looking incredibly disheveled. your lips almost curl up at his sorry state, but they don’t quite make it there.
“hey,” he says between pants.
you don’t respond, but you crack your door open further to let him in. he takes your cue and stands awkwardly in your living room, almost as if he’s afraid to actually touch anything. you don’t miss the way he takes everything in. some of the interior is different, but the bones of it are still the same. he doesn't know why, but the thought relieves him.
“so?” you ask after clearing your throat, effectively breaking the silence. he looks at you confusedly before seeming to remember what he’s doing here.
“r-right. i’m— i mean, i just wanted to explain,” he says meekly. 
“explain what?” 
“explain why i, uh, why i d-d—”
“dated me for a bet?” you finish, and mercifully so, because the words feel like nails when they try to leave his own throat.
“yeah. that,” he says, taking his hand and nervously scratching the back of his neck.
“mm,” you hum.
“i just want you to know that i’m sorry,” he blurts out before he has half a mind to stop himself. he knows it’s the wrong thing to say when he sees impatience flash across your features.
“we’ve established that.”
“oh. right,” he croaks, looking more and more crestfallen and lost by the second. 
“listen, beomgyu,” you sigh. “if you don’t have anything to say, i think you should just l—” 
“i do! i do have something to say!” he exclaims. you still seem agitated, but against all odds, you nod.
“back when heeseung and i, you know, made the b-bet, i knew it was wrong,” he says. “i knew it was wrong, but i still did it. i guess i just saw you as, like, a challenge or something.” you flinch at his words and cross your arms as if your insides will spill out if you don’t. he winces, but continues, anyway.
“but then i got to know you,” he quickly adds. “really know you. and i realized that you’re so much more to me than that. every day i spent with you taught me more about myself, and i didn’t like what i learned; but  i think even just being around you made me into a better person. i don’t know how to ever thank you for that, but i guess it’s worth a shot, so thank you. really.” you can’t help but feel your eyes water. you were that important to him? “and every day, i want to fucking strangle myself when i think about how much i hurt you,�� he says, voice cracking at the end of his sentence. you take him all in, finally noticing the fatigue in his gaze, in his entire being. reminiscent of the way you looked nearly a year ago. instead of satisfaction at the thought that he finally knows how you felt, all you can feel is sympathy. you know how it feels to be the kind of tired even sleep can't pacify.
“i want you to know that you are the most important person in my life, a-and even if you don’t forgive me, it’s… well, i understand. but you are not a joke to me, or a challenge, or whatever. i guess i just want to tell you that i meant it when i said that i loved you, and i mean it when i say it now. because i do. i really, really do.” you are silent, trying to scan his eyes for any signs of deception or ill intent, but you can’t find any. his teary eyes and quivering lips tell you that he really means what he says. is that enough, though? can it ever be enough? maybe not, probably not, but as you stare at the tears that threaten to leave his eyes, you decide you’d like to try.
“okay,” you say. 
“o-okay? does that mean—” 
“it means we can try again. as friends. for real this time. but i’m not the same person i was. is that okay?” the tears that were once on the precipice of leaving his waterline have now begun to flow freely. fuck his stupid pride, you can have all of it if you just let him give it to you.
“y-yeah. me neither. i mean, i’m not the same person, either,” he babbles. 
“okay,” you say with a nod, ever-so-graciously wiping his tears with the pads of your thumbs, smile floating on your lips. and he just can’t help himself. 
“can i kiss you?” he asks. 
“that’s not what friends do,” you chastise playfully, “but alright. just this once.” and you’re still as kind and merciful as ever. he lets out a shaky breath.
slowly, he takes his trembling hands and pushes your hair behind your ear before leaning down and planting his lips against yours. you melt into the feeling, just like you always did when he kissed you, and you feel your heart fluttering in your chest. on beomgyu’s part, he feels like he’s in a dream. to be perfectly honest, he’s had many dreams like this since you left, but nothing compares to how sweet his present reality is. 
when he deepens the kiss, you let him. you want to say you’re unsure why, but you know it’s because you don’t want this moment to end. you two stay in each other’s arms for longer than you’d like to admit. who can blame you for it when nothing in your life has felt this right in such a long, long time? 
for beomgyu, when you two finally part, he thinks it wasn’t long enough, at all. but then, no amount of time could really satisfy him, anyway. still, when he looks into your eyes, he can’t help the unconscious pout that adorns his face when he realizes the moment is over. you can’t control the way you let out a soft laugh at it.
-
being friends with you is very, very hard. not because you're hard to be around or because there's anything wrong with you, but because, to beomgyu, you're so easy and comforting to be with. it’s all too familiar to beomgyu and he finds himself slipping into old habits such as holding your hand and tucking your hair behind your ear when you let it fall into your face. surprisingly, you let him do whatever he wants. whether that's because you missed his touch or because you just don’t want him to stop, you don’t care to figure out. when taehyun brings up the unnecessary intimacy between you two, you can’t help but blush and deny anything crooked going on, which beomgyu takes to heart every time.
he’ll wait for you to accept him, though. he’ll always wait. 
and one night when you’re watching cheesy movies on your couch with him and you look down at your intertwined hands, his thumb unconsciously rubbing against your smaller one, you realize you don’t want to deny him. 
“beomgyu?” you whisper, drawing his gaze from the screen.
“yes?” he asks, attention fully on you like a puppy ready to listen to whatever you say.
“you don’t have to wait anymore.”
-
notes pt. 2: yeah sorry if this is the corniest thing u have ever read... my fault!
permanent (sfw only): @zzhyuu @defnotleee
permanent taglist (sfw/[n]sfw): @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @midwinterblizzard @everythingvirgoes @sooberryworld @20-cms @inkigayocamman @hyueika @boba-beom @vicurious28 @blossommi @lickingan0rchid @katsukis1wife @binniebakery @notevenheretbh1
series taglist: @vixensss @dejavu-jun @gyuchubss @missychief1404 @hihello-pinky @dojdcmidcmkmfekdvmkrkmvvrm
*bold names could not be tagged
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beenbaanbuun · 10 months ago
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non sexual dominance w/hongjoong
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hongjoong is a natural leader
i mean look at him, i literally couldn’t say a more obvious thing if i tried
everything he does, he shows this natural power he has, and it just makes him so easy to follow
even if he’s being a little more on the controlling side, no one really blinks an eye at it because it’s hongjoong! it’s just comes so naturally to him
and obviously that bleeds into your relationship
it’s gentle and soft, and half the time he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, but you do
and that’s not a bad thing… at all
“you’re sat too far away,” he says to you one evening when you’re out together at a random gathering, “come closer.”
all your other friends are preoccupied by their own conversations so you don’t mind putting your full attention on your boyfriend
“i’m on a seperate chair, joong,” you roll your eyes, “obviously i’m not going to be pressed up to your side.”
he cocks a brow at your defiance before leaning a little closer to you
“i’m not asking you to be pressed to my side, i just want you to move your chair a little closer,” his voice was quiet and gentle, but there was still a commanding undertone to it
of course you scoffed at his ridiculous request, but it didn’t stop you from complying
you didn’t argue back, and just shuffled your chair a couple of inches closer to him
“good girl,” he smiles and kisses your cheek, finally having you close enough to do that
he holds your hand under the table for the rest of the night to make sure you don’t stray too far again
and then a couple of nights later you’re up late, sat at your desk with your head shoved into your laptop
hongjoong arrived at your place no more than half an hour ago - which is how you know its late - and is already tucked up in your bed
he watches you carefully as you sigh for the hundredth time
it’s clear to him that you’re stressed, as he just gets out of bed and walks over to you silently
“when was the last time you saved it?” he asks as though he’s just curious
perhaps he’s worried about you losing all the stuff you’d worked so hard on
“i’ll save it now,” you reply, and he watches as you click the little button at the top of the screen, “thanks for reminding me- hey!”
your eyes shoot up to his face as he shuts the lid of the laptop, unplugs it and picks it up
his expression is neutral as he stares down at your clearly upset one, but he makes no move to give you your laptop back
“bed,” he says, “i’m confiscating this until morning.”
“hongjoong, that’s not fair!”
he rolls his eyes
“i don’t care,” he turns and begins to walk back to his side of the bed, “you’re tired and stressed and i’m not going to sit and watch you work yourself up. get in bed, now.”
he places his laptop on his bedside table before crawling back into bed
there’s nothing to stop you taking it, but unless you want hongjoong up your ass about it for the next few days, you know not to
you don’t get up from your seat for just a few seconds, but it seems like it’s a few seconds too long for hongjoong
“if i have to come over there and carry you to bed, i won’t be happy,” he warns
and although you know he’s not being completely serious about the carrying thing, he is about being unhappy
he likes you to take good care of yourself so of course he gets a little annoyed when you don’t listen to him telling you to
so you get up and shuffle over to the bed where he’s waiting with open arms and a smile
“that wasn’t too hard was it?” you shake your head, “good, now come cuddle…”
but it isn’t just a one time thing, and hongjoong isn’t always at your apartment to tell you to look after yourself
more often than not, you end up staying up later than you should, and by the time the project is over, you’re worn down and tired
and hongjoong can see that
obviously he isn’t happy in the way you’re treating yourself (you always remind him that he’s the same way, but he always refuses to acknowledge that fact) so he takes it upon himself to monitor your recuperation
brings you food every day and either watches you eat it, or insists on feeding you himself
you complain about the latter, reminding that you’re perfectly capable of putting food in your own mouth
he just rolls his eyes and asks you to ‘let him do this’
you realise after some time that half of the reason he’s doing this is because of guilt that he wasn’t there more often to stop you overworking yourself
you have to remind him that he has a life outside of you and he can’t always be there to take care of you
“what if i just moved in?” he asks as he spoons some soup into your mouth, “that way i could monitor you…”
you swallow the soup quickly just so you can tut at him
“first of all, i don’t need monitoring,” he makes a sound to let you know he disagrees, “and secondly, you seriously want to leave jongho and wooyoung alone together?“
hongjoong agrees that would be a bad idea since both of the boys like to push the other’s buttons
“well, what if you move into the dorms?” he suggests after a moment of silence
“you don’t need to monitor me!”
he relents after a quick back and forth, finally agreeing that sure, maybe you are capable of taking care of yourself without him to help
the thought makes him a little sadder than it should, though
because he likes taking care of you…
feeding you, washing your hair in the bath, keeping a hand on you whenever you’re out together
and maybe you moving in together is less him monitoring you, and more him just being able to care for you in the way that he wants to
to be able to lead you to make the best decisions for yourself, even if he isn’t too good at doing that for himself
but although it made him said, he was fine conceding to your will this time
he likes having that dominance over you, but he’d never force you into something so big if you aren’t quite ready for it
for now he’s stick to showing up at your place unannounced and taking care of you from there
reminding you to eat when he knows you haven’t
pulling you around by your waist when he doesn’t want you too far from him
pinning you to the couch when he knows you’re too fidgety to relax properly
he’d have to happy with just that for the time being
743 notes · View notes
thewritingrowlet · 7 months ago
Text
The Grand Prize, ft. tripleS Yoon Seoyeon
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tags: male reader, first time anal, creampie, anal creampie, raw
word count: 8k+, almost 9k
author's note: the smut in this story is split into two parts with some basketball plot in between. Hope you like it! :D
p.s. I slipped an inside joke made with @praeluxius' username, so prael if you see this <3
It is December, you’ve been dating Seoyeon for over 3 months now; it has been a very fun and healthy relationship even though you have been spending less time with her despite living together as your schedules don’t really match hers; you’ve been busy with the basketball team as its captain and year 3 classes while Seoyeon has found a new busyness with the student council— “I want to continue my student council career, oppa”, she had told you after the Freshers’ Week. Not many know about your relationship, apart from your teammates and some friends of hers, as you both have agreed to keep things to yourselves. Your teammates were surprised that you have a girlfriend considering how long you’d been single, while Seoyeon’s friends thought that it was crazy that she managed to steal the basketball team’s captain’s heart and started dating him so soon. Honestly, you still can’t believe the way life has been turning out recently, but you’re ecstatic to see what else might turn up for you and Seoyeon.
[🐶❤️| 17:08]
Oppa, I’m going home after this meeting
What about you?
Have you eaten btw? I can bring some sandwich if you want
She texts you as you’re getting ready for warmup. Might as well reply now since you won’t have the chance to for the next few hours, not forgetting to apologize since you’re probably coming home late.
[🏀| 17:09]
I have practice, luv, will come home late
No need to wait if you want to sleep first
I had some noodles earlier, should be enough
Seoyeon hates you for not eating enough, so you make sure to not skip meals especially on the days when you have practice. She’s even brought you some food to eat before practicing before, which was how your teammates found out you had a girlfriend. She also made you eat in front of her, refusing to leave before you finish the food and return the box to her to bring home. You’re thankful for her attention and god-tier cooking but this habit of yours is really hard to rid, “baby, I love your food but I’m just not hungry at the moment”, you’ve told her once, to which she responded by pouting and looking rejected.
[🐶❤️| 17:09]
Okay, oppa
See you at home
Don’t get hurt
Luv u much
Her texts, no matter how simple, always give you a boost of energy and motivation, and with that, you’re taking on practice with excitement.
It is now a few minutes to 9pm and your team is wrapping up tonight’s practice. You’ve been practicing seemingly tirelessly for a few hours and your limbs are on fire thanks to the different drills your team has been doing. Coach Park has been increasing the frequency and intensity of the practices as the university is aiming for a top 3 finish under your captaincy in the upcoming national tournament; “we believe that you can lead us deep into the playoffs, captain”, the dean told you on Monday before practice, putting expectant pressure on your shoulders. You don’t have to worry about motivating your teammates since everyone knows how prestigious this tournament is but as the captain, you’re the one with the heaviest burden; everyone (including your beloved Seoyeon) will be counting on you throughout the tournament. You promise Coach Park, your team, and yourself that you’re going to give this run everything you have: “it’s ours, guys, believe that”, you tell them as the closing words for tonight’s practice.
You call an Uber after showering because you don’t feel like walking to your apartment after that exhausting practice. A few minutes of Uber ride later, you’re now at the front door of your apartment. As you’re entering the password, you hear footsteps from the inside, most likely Seoyeon’s as she’s running to greet you at the door.
“Oppa, you’re home! Welcome home!”, she says, the excitement obvious in her voice. “Yes, baby, I’m home. Sorry for coming home so late”, you say as you hug her and kiss her head. She presses her face on your shoulder, hugging you tight, “I know you’ve been working hard for the team and I’m proud of you, oppa, but I also miss you so much. Can we have a date soon? Maybe in the next few days? I-I hope th-that’s not too selfish of me”. Your heart sinks at the realization: you’ve been so busy with class and basketball that you’ve forgotten to make time for your lovely girlfriend. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t have classes or practice tomorrow; what do you say we have a little date at home? I can try and cook for us”, you say to her, hoping for a chance to make it up to her. She then looks up to look at you, her eyes hopeful that you’ll come through with your promise. “Okay, oppa. I’ll get home as soon as I can tomorrow. I’m curious what you’ll cook for me”, and with that, your date is set; you’re going to create your parents-approved spicy honey grilled chicken and fried rice for her and (hopefully) blow her mind with it.
-
A new day has arrived, the morning sun is beaming at you through your windows, but your sunshine is still in dreamland; “Seoyeon, baby, wake up. You have classes, don’t you?”, you say softly to wake her up. “Ngh what time is it?”, she says while gathering her soul after her deep slumber. “It’s almost 8, baby. I’ll run the shower for you so sit still for a bit, okay?”, you peck her lips as you get off the bed to prepare the shower for her. When you return from the bathroom, you see her peeking at you from under the covers, “any spoilers for today, oppa?”, she asks you, the covers muffling her voice a bit. “Of course, sweetie, it’ll be sweet and spicy”, you tell her as you get into bed to kiss her; you’d like to think that a kiss in the morning is like kick-starting a person, and that’s definitely the case for Seoyeon. After showering, Seoyeon leaves for campus half-running to avoid being late; “see you later, oppa. Love you”, she says, before giving you a peck and running out the door.
-
The clock now shows 15 minutes to 3pm, you have just over 2 hours to prepare the dishes. You start by taking the chicken out of the fridge and making the sauce mix for the grilled chicken. After glazing it for the first time, you throw it on the grill and let it cook, brushing more sauce as it goes so that the flavors can really seep into the chicken. Once they’re done cooking, you put them to the side to free up the space to make fried rice. For the fried rice, you start by tossing in some of your mom’s pre-made seasoning base into the flaming hot wok. Once that’s nice and fragrant, you throw in some diced chicken and let it get cooked before you mix in some well-beaten eggs. You then add in some salt, sugar, MSG (is it really fried rice without MSG?), sweet soy sauce, and hot sauce to give the fried rice its flavors. With about 20 minutes to spare before Seoyeon gets home, you’re finally finished and decide to take a shower first.
-
“Oppa, I’m home—what is this smell? It smells crazy good!”, she says as she enters the apartment, heading straight to the dining table. “Welcome home, baby, how was your day? I made you some spicy honey grilled chicken and fried rice—all using the recipes my parents approve of”, you welcome her into a hug and peck her forehead. “My day has been great, oppa, and it’s only getting better. Thanks for the meal!”, she says, getting a chicken thigh and some fried rice. You take a seat at the table and dig in together, “you like it, love?”, “this is soooo goooood, oppa. Didn’t know you were this good at cooking, what happened?”, she says with a full mouth. “I’d like to think I’m decent at cooking. I came up with this grilled chicken recipe when I was in high school, I’m glad that you like it”. It is one of those moments where the food is so good, you can’t help but enjoy it in silence because you’re just blown away by the taste, so the both of you just shut up and keep eating until the end of the meal.
-
You two get ready for sleep after cleaning everything up. You see her put on one of your T-shirts and a pair of shorts— “guess I’m not getting lucky tonight”, you think to yourself. As if hearing your thoughts, she notifies you, “I’m on my period today, oppa. I’m sorry”. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetie. I would be more concerned if weren’t having your periods”, you assure her as you pull her into the bed. “But-but I should reward you for the meal”, she says as she palms your crotch, making you hard instantly. “Baby, please, when did it become an effort-reward relationship, hm? There’s nothing I’m asking you to do other than to cuddle and sleep next to me. That’s not too selfish of me, is it?”, you say to her while pulling her into a hug even though your cock is rock hard and ready for some action. “You’re always so sweet, oppa. Thank you for being so kind to me all the time. Will you be okay, though?”, “you deserve the best of me all the time, sweetie, and yes I’ll be okay”.
-
The rest of the month went by rapidly for you. Your team has been spanking your opponents left and right, breezing past round of 32, round of 16, and quarterfinal before anyone realized what had happened. “Alright, men. I know we’ve been dominating our opponents so far, but it’s only getting harder from this point onwards. We need to be in the right mindset and condition for it”, Coach Park said in the locker room after the quarterfinal. “Since the semifinal is on Saturday, I’ll see you all on Thursday for practice and we’ll rest on Friday. We’re going to practice some designed and after-timeout plays”, the coach continued.
The coach came through with his words: your team has been spending the last 2,5 hours running various plays designed for different players, including yourself. Coach Lee, one of the assistant coaches, has personally put together a handful of mid- and long-range scoring plays to create as many opportunities as possible for you. You’re worried that maybe the upcoming opponent has picked up all the tendencies that your team has—such as going through you heavily to score—but you can only hope that things will work as planned.
-
-
Saturday morning, it is. You wake up at around the usual time, while Seoyeon is still sound asleep. You didn’t do anything much last night since you were absolutely drained from Thursday’s practice. You look at the sleeping beauty: she seems to be in peace at the moment, sleeping oh-so-cutely on her side of the bed while being covered with a blanket up to her neck. After giving her a peck on the forehead, you get off the bed and head to the bathroom to take a shower. Your team don’t need to travel too much today since the stadium for semifinal and final is only 15 minutes away from campus, so you’re not running as tight on schedule as for the previous games.
When you get out of the shower, Seoyeon is already awake. She’s leaning against the headboard while scrolling mindlessly through her phone. “Mmh? Good morning, oppa”, she says when she sees you, arms reaching out for a hug. “Good morning, baby. Are you going to watch the game today?”, you ask her while hugging her and showering her with pecks. “I am, oppa. I’ll be sitting pretty close to the court, so look at me every now and then, okay? Good luck, captain. I love you”, she says to you as she pulls out of the hug.
-
Here you are, just under 3 minutes, says the countdown timer on that big ass TV in front of you, before the semifinal starts. You can hear the crowd’s excitement from deep in the tunnel, ready to support their favorite teams in the upcoming game. You take a deep breath to calm yourself and focus up. Turn to your team, time to fire them up: “let’s go, boys; we’re so close now. Let’s win this, alright? Win on 3—1, 2, 3!”.
After firing them up, a match committee personnel gives you a flag in the university color with the logo in the center of it, “this is new”, you think. As you take the flag from him, the arena announcer is yelling the team names and gets replied with loud noises from the crowd. Before you walk out, you make sure you look as cool as possible by leaning the flagpole against your right shoulder and putting on a cold face. Once the guy gives you the signal to go in, your team and the other start walking out to the court.
You stand in the center of the 5 starters of your team, right under the rim. Before the ceremony ends, you want to look for Seoyeon so you can find her easier during the game, “you see my girlfriend, bro?”, you whisper to your teammate next to you. “Hmm let’s see—oh, behind the other team’s bench, I think. Is that her?”, he points to show you, so you look closely at the area he’s pointing at; and there she is, wearing one of your old jerseys that she probably found in the wardrobe. You give her a little out-of-character wink to acknowledge her presence and she winks back so cutely, making your heart rate jump.
After the first quarter of the game, it becomes obvious that the opposing team is more organized in terms of defending and adjusting to your team’s offense. You’ve been decent, though, putting up 9 points of your team’s 22 through the first quarter. Coach Lee tells you that you shouldn’t be too fazed by their defense since they’re going to get more lenient as the game goes on due to exhaustion from defending so intensely.
Another 10 minutes of playing have finished and now you’re in the locker room to have more conversations on how to adjust to the current state of the game. True enough, they’ve gotten more laid back with their defense, letting you take 4 shots, which you made 3 of, from the 3-pt area. However, they’ve also gotten hotter with their shot making, trailing by fewer than 8 points the whole quarter. The plan for Q3, Coach Park says, is for you to be more active on defense, especially around the perimeter, and play a more relaxed role on offense since you’ve got a bunch of points in the bag already.
After exchanging some motivations and talking to some people, it’s time to head into the locker room. Before you do, though, you look at Seoyeon who’s smiling and clapping her hands. She gives you a seductive wink and a lip bite while putting a hand over her crotch, mouthing “I’m yours tonight” to you. You can’t afford to get a boner right now, so you look away as soon as she’s done signaling to you and head into the locker room to celebrate the win and talk to the coaches.
Since you’re starting Q3 from the bench, you have some time to catch up with Seoyeon who’s now on your side of the court. You look up to say hi and get some motivation from her. “Oppa, you’re so good! They’ve let you score so many times this game, oppa!”, she says, the excitement and fascination flowing out of her lips freely with every word said. “I’m just following the plan the coaches have set up, love. I’ll be playing less intensely on offense, though. I’ll show you what defense is”, you tell her, your confidence through the roof.
With less than 4 minutes left in the quarter, Coach Park subs you into the game— “great job, man”, you tell your teammate as he’s coming to the sideline, “shut these guys down, man”, your teammate says before grabbing a towel and sitting down. So, you do just that; you chase your assignments around the court on man-to-man defense, diligently switching back and forth with your teammates to prevent unfavorable matchups. Before you know it, the buzzer sounds, indicating the end of the 3rd quarter.
It is now the 4th quarter, the last 10 minutes of playing to secure a top 2 finish. Your team has an okay-ish lead of 10 entering the last quarter. The plan is to widen the gap by shutting down the opponent on defense while looking for easy scores on the other end, taking advantage of the fact that they’re tired despite being tired yourselves.
You try your best to not look at Seoyeon this quarter so that her cheering doesn’t distract you from doing your job in the dying embers of the game. Your plan doesn’t last too long, though, as you scream in her general direction after forcing a turnover. You see her jumping up and down as she cheers for you, looking as fired up as you are about the defensive play. With this comfortable lead, it’s only a matter of time until the game ends and you’re sent to the final stage, fighting for fame and glory one last time this year.
True enough, the final buzzer sounds loudly, and with it, the crowd’s emotions are divided: those who root for your team are screaming in joy, while the others are on their knees following the loss. “Hey, man. You did well. I’m sorry that it had to end like this. Let’s get on our feet, eh?”, you say to an opponent, pulling him up to his feet and hugging him—the feeling of losing while being so close to the goal is all too familiar to you.
-
You arrive at your apartment after taking a shower and chatting with a bunch of people about preparing for the final game. As you enter the bedroom, you see Seoyeon sitting on the edge of the bed, her body wrapped in a bath robe, “hi, oppa, welcome home. Did you catch what I said before you head into the tunnel?”, she asks, her hands getting ready to take the robe off. “I think I did”, you say before whispering in her ear, “you said you’re mine tonight, didn’t you?”, your deep voice sending shivers down her spine. “That is correct, oppa, so—", she says as she takes off the robe and kneels in front of you, “—do what you wish to me”, she adds, her mouth open and ready to take your shaft. You immediately drop everything you’re carrying on the floor along with your sweatpants and boxers and plunge deep into the warmth that is her mouth. She gags loudly and closes her eyes as she feels your tip hit the back of her throat. You lift her chin to look into her eyes; they tell you that she is so deep in the sea of lust, she might as well start drowning. You start thrusting in and out of her mouth, forcing her to take you deep into her mouth and making her gag every time. You want to turn it up a notch, though, “I want to try something else”, you say to her as you lie her on the bed, her head hanging off the edge, “You know where this is going, baby. Open”, you tell her before thrusting into her from a different position. You can’t help but let out groans and deep moans as you stuff her throat with your cock while playing with her tits. One last time before pulling out, you stick your cock deep in her throat and hold it there for a few seconds, making a mess of Seoyeon’s face as spit gets all over her face. Soon, you feel Seoyeon smack your thigh repeatedly, hoping that you’ll pull out and let her breathe. So you do just that, and she immediately gasps for air, “oh shit, oppa. I thought you were going to knock me out with your cock, fuck”, she says. “No, but I’ll be rough tonight. You know the safe word; say it if you want to stop”, you say, notifying her of your intent.
Feeling like you’re about to cross the line, you let go of her neck and pull out so that you two can catch some breaths. You see your hand leave a red mark on her neck, as she breathes with her mouth to get as much air into her lungs as possible. “Baby, you okay? That was too rough, right? I’m sorry”, you say, your mind no longer possessed by your cock. “Hah, hah—I’m-I’m fine—fuck. You were so rough, oppa. Didn’t know you had it in you like that”, she says, her eyes glassy from unreleased tears. “Do you want to stop, baby? Say the safe word, maybe?”, you ask to make sure that you still have her consent. “No, o-one more time. I’m so close, take me across the line, oppa”, she says, while grabbing her legs and folding it like earlier. “Let go of your legs, baby. You must be tired”, you say, while going in for a kiss. When you pull away, you see her put on a loving smile, “yes, baby?”, you ask her, not quite catching her signal. “I love you, oppa, so damn much. Now— “, she says while rolling onto her stomach, “—take me again, like this. You can be rough again if you want to”. “Okay, baby. Don’t forget that you can say the safe word”, you say, as you ride her thighs to fuck her from behind.
You tell her to move up in the bed, “you want me to wear a condom or no?”, you ask Seoyeon, who now has her head on the pillow while lying on her back. “Oppa isn’t talking as sweetly and softly as usual, I hope it means that he’s enjoying this”, she thinks to herself, “umm, yes, please”, she replies. You’re never one to do something to a girl without her consent, so you put on a condom before climbing into bed with her. You then get between her legs and fold them over her torso, “hold your legs for me”, you say sternly while aiming your length at her entrance. Unsurprisingly, she obeys right away. She holds her legs over her body by wrapping her forearms under her knees. Just as you’re about to push in, she fuels your fire, “give it to me, oppa, make me take it”.
After being shown the green light, you push your cock into her tight hole, making her scream instantly. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, oppa”, she eggs you on. You put a hand on her neck and start squeezing it, and you feel her pussy get tighter around your cock, “oh, you like this, you slut? Fuck, so tight”, you say, attempting some dirty talk while thrusting roughly; you hope she doesn’t mind being called that out of nowhere. “Fu—oppa, please, ughhh”, she tries to say with the last bit of air in her chest, as a tear starts running down her face and her hands try to loosen your grip on her neck.
You plunge deep into her instantly, making her scream into the pillow. You like this angle as it makes Seoyeon feel tighter for you; “fuck, baby, you’re tighter like this”, you say with a deep groan. “Oh, oh, yes, I’m always tight for you, oppa”, she replies, her voice muffled by the pillow, moaning with every thrust you’re giving her.
As you’re thrusting deep and fast, you see Seoyeon’s forbidden hole every now and then, peeking at you from behind her cheeks. You want to stimulate her more to get her closer to her orgasm, so you take your thumb and rub her small hole with it, making her gasp in surprise and turn her head to look at you. “Oppa, please, not there—please, please, please”, she says, panicking at the thought that you’re going to put something in her ass. You respond by grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling it, making her arch her back, “you’re mine, aren’t you? Have you forgot, you little slut? You’re entirely mine”, you whisper aggresively in her ear, getting rougher with your thrusts. “I—fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m cumming!”, she exclaims with a loud scream—you’re lowkey worried that a neighbor might call the cops on you considering how loud she’s screaming.
“Cum, you slut, cum all over this cock”, you reply to her, not letting up the thrusts. You finally pull out when you feel her juice pushing you out, her legs shaking due to the hard orgasm. “Good job, baby. I’ll get some water then it’s time to chase mine, okay?”, you tell her while petting the back of the panting girl softly before leaving to get some water.
When you return with some water for the both of you, you see Seoyeon still laying on her stomach while looking at you, seemingly sad about something; “oppa, you weren’t really trying to get in that hole, were you?”, she asks, referring to your stimulation on her asshole, “i-is my pussy not good enough, oppa? Bu-but you were my first—ah, I’m so sorry, oppa. I-I’ll do better next time”, she continues, tears gathering in her eyes.
Your heart shatters at her words; you only meant it as a stimulation to get her closer to her orgasm, not to point out that something’s lacking—"tell her otherwise, now”, your heart screams at you. “Oh, love, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that—I was just trying to get you to your orgasm quicker. It is true that I was your first, and I’m forever honored and grateful for that. You’ve been the best girlfriend for me, so there’s no need to worry about being lacking, baby”, you tell her before pulling her into a hug and carrying her to the bathroom.
“Let’s get cleaned up, alright? I think we’ve had enough tonight”. “Bu-but you haven’t cum yet, oppa. Plea-please let me down, let-let me finish the job”, she says to you half begging. “It’s fine, baby, I’ll manage. Let me take care of you, okay? I went so rough on you, I’m sorry”, you say to her as you open the bathroom door. “Can you stand up on your own, sweetie? Do you need a stool?”, you ask her before putting her down. “A stool, please, oppa. My legs are like jelly right now”, she replies to you, drawing a prideful smile on your face.
Now that the shower has finished, you give her one of your jerseys to wear to sleep—the length enough to cover your little girlfriend down to her thighs—before putting her down on the bed. You wrap her in your arms while she tucks her head on your neck; “oppa”, she begins, “congrats on making it to the final”, she says. Surprised to hear her bring it up out of nowhere, you let out a chuckle, “it’s all thanks to you, sweetie; thank you for cheering me on, baby”, you reply. You can’t see her face, but you know she’s blushing right now. “Promise me that you’ll win, oppa. I, uh, may or may not have a present prepared for you—but only if you win”, she continues. “Present, hey? I like the sound of that. I’ll try my hardest, baby”, you say, feeling motivated by the promise of getting a present.
After setting the stool down and making her sit on it, you turn on the shower and start cleaning her up. You start by rubbing her nape and back with some soap before lifting her butt up so you can clean her cheeks. You then rinse the soap off her back and move in front of her to continue.
When you get in front of her, you kneel and put a hand on her knee, “How are we feeling, sweetie?”, you ask her to gauge her emotions. She looks down at herself before looking at you, “oppa, you love me, right? You won’t leave me just because I didn’t let you in my ass, right? Please tell me you love me. Please, oppa”, she asks, her voice trembling from sadness. She needs assurance and comfort right now, and you’re ready to give her whatever she needs to make her feel better.
“I love you, baby. Please believe me when I say that I’m not going to force you into anal until you’re ready, whenever that may be. Even if you end up never feeling ready for it, I’ll still love you with all my life; there’s no doubt in my mind about it”, you tell her with all the sincerity you can muster. “Please don’t feel burdened by any of it, baby. I won’t leave you, no matter what happens tonight”, you tell her while hugging her tightly, your promise true and sincere as ever. When you finally pull away, you see a small smile drawn on her face, “feeling better, love? Let’s finish this and then go to sleep, okay?”, to which she nods enthusiastically, straightening her back to give you access to clean her front.
-
It’s been a few days since the semifinal and that night where Seoyeon tried being a subby baby for you—she chickened out when you teased her asshole, though, blue-balling you in the end. The grand final is right around the corner and you’ve spent the last few of days preparing for the last dance. You’re nervous out of your mind at the prospect of playing in the grand final, unconsciously speaking less day in and day out. Seoyeon notices this and tries to help you ease your mind as much as she can, being the angel of a girlfriend that she is, even when you forget to thank her—basketball is taking the entire space in your head right now.
After going through the past 2 days mindlessly, it’s now Saturday morning again, 12 hours before the final game of the season. You woke up not-too-smoothly, letting out a panic gasp as you felt your soul get shoved back into your body. You panic even more when you can’t find Seoyeon in bed, so you immediately jump off the bed and run out of the bedroom.
After doing so, you hear sizzling coming from the kitchen. “Is that Seoyeon?”, you think to yourself. When you go to the kitchen to investigate, you see Seoyeon in front of the stove, busy doing something. “Good morning, oppa! I’m making some steamed eggs for breakfast”, she says cheerfully when she sees you. Relief fills your head right away, so you hug her from behind without saying anything and rest your forehead on her head, “I panicked when I couldn’t find you in bed”, you mumble into the back of her head. “Sorry, oppa. Just wanted to make you some breakfast to cheer you up before tonight”, she says to you. You keep hugging her until she notifies you that she’s done cooking and asking you to sit at the table.
“My mom taught me how to make this, oppa. Hope you like it”, she says wishfully. You’re so captivated by the steaming pot of steamed eggs in front of you that you almost forget to thank the person behind it. “Ah, almost forgot—thank you, baby. You’ve been so kind to me these past few days—months, really. I’ll take you on a date after this is all done, okay?”, you say to her. Seoyeon can’t help but blush at your words, “oh-oh, I was just trying to help you, oppa. You-you’ve also been so kind to me”, she says before covering her face with her hands—you find it adorable that she still gets shy with you despite having been dating for a few months.
“Thank you for the meal!”, you exclaim excitedly before sticking a spoon into the pot. You let out a satisfied groan after the first spoonful; it is so soft and well-seasoned, absolutely astonishing. “This is amazing, baby. Thank you so much”. “I’m glad you like it, oppa. I was so nervous if I made it wrong”, she replies.
-
After finishing the meal, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom while Seoyeon washes the dishes. You then open the wardrobe to get some clothes and the jersey for tonight. As you dig through your part of the wardrobe, you find a piece of paper folded in half lying on top of your jersey. With a curious mind, you open it; “Oppa, this is Seoyeon—obviously”, the first line says, “I know you’ve been stressed out about the grand final, but I want to remind you that you’ll always be my number one regardless of the result tonight. Love you always, captain. Signed, your Seoyeon”, the rest of the letter says, her signature drawn on the bottom.
As you finish reading it, you see Seoyeon enter the bedroom, “oh you found it already, guess I didn’t hide it well enough”, she says while smirking, pointing to the piece of paper on your hand. You can’t believe how lucky you are to be in love with such a sweet girl, so you can’t help but fall on your knees wordlessly. Surprised by the sight in front of her, Seoyeon rushes to you, “oppa, are you okay? Are you sick?”, she asks in panic, hugging you and putting a palm on your forehead. “Seoyeon, I.. I love you so much. Thank you for everything”, you say while looking deeply into her eyes. Seoyeon hugs you tightly after hearing your words, “no, thank you. I love you so much too. Go win this for me, okay? Fighting, captain”, she says to you.
-
It's only a few minutes before the grand final starts. You find yourself in the darkness of the tunnel again. “You’ll always be my number one”, Seoyeon’s words are repeating endlessly in your head. Your thoughts are cut short when you see the same guy and the flag from before make another appearance; “for you, captain”, the guy says. You grab the flag from him and put it against your shoulder like before.
Unlike last time, though, everyone’s wearing a jacket now. Everyone wears it normally while you wear yours like a cape, making the name of the university clear for everyone to see. The guy gives you the signal to enter and start the pre-match pleasantries which you’re not paying attention to, your mind locked in for the game itself—you do hear the crowd cheer when the announcer says your name, though, so that’s nice.
The first half was hard; your team were trading points and exchanging leads back and forth with the opponents. During the break, Coach Park was putting more emphasis on steadying the game and scoring consistently in the second half while being tight on defense. Before heading back out, Coach Lee pulls you to the side; “we need you to score from deep, son. They’ve been covering you loosely this game, you must take advantage of that”, he tells you, to which you reply by nodding your head in acknowledgment.
True enough, they’re allowing you to have more space on the floor as you’re able to have uninterrupted looks to shoot every few possessions. As instructed by Coach Lee, you take advantage of it as much as you can, making 4 out of 5 shots from long range. Your team is now leading by 8, the largest in the game so far. Feeling uncomfortable, the opponent’s coach calls a timeout, sending both teams to the bench to talk. After the timeout, Coach Park decides to sit you on the bench for the rest of the quarter, giving you some time to catch up with your girl, who’s sitting in the same seat as last time. “Oppa, what are we thinking?”, she asks you. “We’re trying to keep this lead, baby. Pray for us, okay?”, you say to her, making it as simple as possible for her to understand.
3rd quarter ends with your team leading by 4; not big enough a lead to be comfortable, but you’ll have to make do with what you have. “10 more minutes, guys, come on”, you tell your teammates during the huddle, “let’s win this shit”, you add at the end. The approach now is to be intense on defense, forcing hard matchups and turnovers to turn into easy fastbreaks on the other end of the court. You’ve been taking a few elbows to your body throughout the game, hurting you little by little; “that’s basketball for you, just man up”, your brain says.
After forcing another turnover and turning it into an easy bucket, the opponent calls their last timeout with 1 minute left in the game. Coach Lee takes the floor this time, “we’re almost there, boys. Hang on for 1 minute and you’ll win it. Let’s go”, he says, before explaining some defensive schemes for the last minute of the game. The huddles break when the horn sounds, notifying both teams to get back on the floor with 1 minute left.
The opponents have the ball coming from the timeout. The guard is bringing the ball up the court while making a horn sign with his fingers. Everyone knows what to do, so each of you gets ready to react to the play. Unfortunately, despite having prepared to defend such play, they still manage to score 2 points off an offensive rebound following a miss, cutting the lead down to 2. After getting the inbound, you start bringing the ball to the other side with less than seconds left on the clock, calling for the circle play as an attempt to put this game to bed by scoring from deep in crunch time. You pass the ball to a teammate before cutting inside and circling outside the 3-pt line again—hence the “circle”—while another teammate sets a screen for you, leaving you wide open to shoot.
As you shoot, adrenaline slows down the time, making it feel like it takes the ball forever to fly through the air and into the hoop. After keeping your eyes on the ball the whole time, you finally see the ball go cleanly through the basket, hitting nothing but nylon. With it, the crowd roars as you’ve grown the lead to 5 with almost no time for retaliation. After getting back on defense one last time, you hear the final buzzer roar through the arena— “is it done? Did we win?”, your brain wonders. As if hearing your thoughts, a teammate hugs you, “yo we won, man, we won. Can you believe that? We won!”, he says, screaming at you. After him, your other teammates start piling up on you one by one; “ah yes, we did win”, your brain confirms.
-
After exchanging emotions with everyone, you’re now left alone in the court. You find yourself on your knees trying to process everything that has happened, your emotions still at bay. Shortly after, you look up to find Seoyeon, immediately spotting her. She’s bawling her eyes out while having her fists in the air.
You run up to her so you two can share this moment. You hold out your arms and she fills it right away, “oppa, you did it, you won!”, she says, her voice shaky from the emotions. “Yes, we did, sweetie. We won, and it’s all thanks to you”, you reply to her as tears start running down your face. After hugging for a few seconds, you pull away from her, “I’m going to the locker room, see you at home, love”, you tell her. “Don’t forget, oppa, I have a present for you, a huge one”, she replies to you, a mischievous smile drawn on her face.
You ended up spending an hour celebrating with the team and a bunch of professors who attended the game. You’re now in the Uber heading home, all refreshed and cleaned up after showering. You’re excited at the prospect of getting a present from your beloved—not long to go until you reach your apartment. As soon as you arrive at the door, you enter the passcode. “Huh, no sound from Seoyeon”, you think to yourself. “Seoyeon, are you home, baby?”, you say loudly as you try to find her. “In here, oppa”, you hear her say behind the closed bedroom door.
After putting down your stuff, you knock on the door and enter the bedroom. You’re met with Seoyeon, who has her bathrobe on like last time, making your heart rate jump through the roof in excitement. “Congrats on winning the tournament, oppa”, she starts, “and with it, you’ve won the grand prize”. “Thank you, baby, and what’s this grand prize you’re talking about?”, you ask, ready to get lucky.
“Your prize—“, she says while taking a few steps back and taking off her robe, revealing a very sexy black lingerie, “—is me”. Your cock hardens instantly at her words, “oh, really?”, you reply to her, your head full of lust— “when did she buy that?”, your brain asks. “Yes, oppa—or should I say, daddy”, she says while getting on her knees, “I’m entirely yours, daddy. Do what you want to me”.
You walk up and kneel on one knee in front of her, getting on her eye level, “Safe word?”, you ask. “Same as always, but I don’t plan on using it tonight. Let me please you, daddy—use me”, she says, not folding to your deep gaze. You stand back up again to free your cock from its constraints, and that’s when she adds fuel to your fire, “All yours, daddy, including my ass”. Surprised to hear her offer her ass to you, you look at her, “I hope you’re sure because I’m not asking again”, you warn her. “I’ve given you my cherry, might as well give you the other one”, her reply stuns you. “Get on the bed like last time”, you command her.
You walk over to the bedside table to grab a condom. Seoyeon sees this, and she rushes to you and holds your arm; “fuck me raw, daddy—breed me”, she says with lustful gaze. Your cock gets hard quickly at her words, “careful with what you wish for, slut”, you say while holding her by the chin and she replies by smirking seductively. “Get on your hands and knees, now”, you say impatiently.
Once she’s in position—her head hanging off the edge while the rest of her body is in bed—put your cock into her mouth. You see her chest go up and down with every thrust, trying to stay calm as your cock is lodged in her airway. Naughty as you are, you palm her neck with one hand. You feel her throat bulging every time you push deep into her mouth. This, however, makes her lose control and start gagging loudly. “Oh shit, I’m getting close”, you groan and she lets out a muffled whine as a reply. You pick up your pace, planning to cum in her moist mouth. A few thrusts later, you feel your cock twitch: a signal that you’re cumming.
Trying to show her some mercy, you pull your shaft out but leave the tip in. “Fuck!”, you say as you cum in her mouth and make her choke on your cum. She waits for you to finish spurting your baby batter before tapping your thighs, asking for you to pull out. Once you do, you see that spit has run down her face. “Show me”, she opens her mouth filled with cum, “so?”, you ask. She puts her doubts aside and swallows it, earning a chuckle from you. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Move up, get comfortable”, you say as you help her move up the bed, “I’m your good girl, daddy. I’ll do anything for you”, she says.
She’s laying on her stomach limply while you leave to get water. “Drink, baby. You’ve been screaming a lot”, you say to her sweetly while putting the glass close to her mouth, letting her sip some water. “Thank you, daddy. You’re so sweet”, she says with a grateful smile on her face. “So, what now?”, you ask her, hoping that she’ll keep her promise from earlier. “Fuck my ass, daddy. Take my last cherry and make me yours entirely. I’ve prepared the lube, it’s in the bottom drawer”, she says to you, her eyes full of lust again, ready to give you her last virginity.
You kneel behind Seoyeon and stick your cock deep into her pussy, making her moan at the first penetration. “You want daddy’s cum? You think you deserve it?”, you say with a hoarse voice while aggressively thrusting into her. “Daddy—oh, I—ah, fuck—I’m your good girl—fuck—please give me your cum”, she says while moaning and cursing out loud. Not one to deny such request, you push her down so that only her ass is in the air. “As you wish, slut”, and with it, you start picking up your pace: giving it to her deep and fast, making her grip the sheets tightly while screaming into the pillow.
“Oh God, you’re stretching me, daddy—fuck!—keep going, please. Breed me, please!”, she begs you. “Zip it, slut—fuck, how are you still so tight after all this time?”, you say before pressing her head into the pillow. “I’m not too far away now”, you announce, while Seoyeon is still screaming into the pillow, “I’ll need to give her a lot of water after this”, you say to yourself, taking a mental note. “Fuck, I’m cumming. Cum with me, baby”, you say, breaking your dominant character before thrusting one last time and leaving your cock stuck deep in her pussy, filling her second hole with baby batter. You notice that she’s also having her orgasm as shown by her shaking legs and thighs. You pull out after the both of you have come down from your high—your cock is now shining thanks to her slick.
You walk away from her and open the bottom drawer, and would you look at that: a sealed bottle of Prael Gel lube. “When did you buy this?”, you ask her. “Wouldn’t you like to know”, she says before chuckling, “do it, daddy—I’m begging you”. After slathering lube all over your cock, you get into the bed again, “how do you want me?”, she says as she gets ready to get into position. “Just lay on your stomach and spread these cheeks for me”, you tell her, spanking both cheeks and making them red. “As you wish, daddy”, she says while her hands are spreading her cheeks, letting you see the forbidden hole.
Once you’re in, you start giving her deep but slow thrusts and let her asshole adapt to the large shaft lodged in it, “my God you’re so tight—fucking hell”, you exclaim while her anal muscles are squeezing your cock. “Alwa-always am, for you—oh my God, fuck!”, she screams into the pillow again when you reach the deepest point, “you’re going to ruin me, daddy—please ruin me, I’m nothing without you”, she says, making the fire in you rage wildly. “I’m going faster, keep squeezing my cock”, you say to her. Seeing her press her head into the pillow serves as a green light to you, so you start going faster while still hitting the deepest spot in her ass. “God I’m gonna cum again”, you groan as you’re inching closer to your third orgasm tonight.
You get on top of her and set your knees on either side of her thighs. You slowly move forward until your tip reaches her rear entrance. Seoyeon gasps and turns her head to look at you, “slowly, daddy, please—be gentle with your slut; it’s her first time”, she says to you, “did she just call herself a slut?”, you think. You just give her a nod while pushing into her ass—her muscles are not letting you in, “relax, baby, let me in”, you say to her.
You’re not entirely sure if she actually relaxes as you keep pushing forward and forcefully break in into her ass. You finally get past her sphincter, stretching her asshole and molding it into the shape of your cock. “Fuck, daddy, you’re so big! Please be gentle, please, please—God, fuck—it’s-it’s my first time, daddy—AHHHH!”, her screams are muffled by the pillow but still loud enough to reach your ears.
Not wanting to leave her behind, you lift her ass up into the air again and begin rubbing her clit. “Cum with me or I’m tying you to the bed”, you whisper in her ear. Upon hearing your command, she replies, “oh, oh, daddy, please let me cum with you—AHHHHH PLEAAASE”. The way her asshole squeezes your cock is foreign to you, so you can’t help but let out deep groans of your own. After thrusting in and out about a few dozen times while her moans and whines fuel your lust, the familiar feeling of reaching ejaculation is creeping up on you. You rub her clit faster to get her to cum with you while you keep fucking her ass. “Seoyeon, I’m cumming, take it all!”, “DADDY PLEASE”, she screams in return, and with it, you’re releasing in her ass while she squirts for the first time.
Despite feeling weak in the core and wanting to fall over, you pull out of her ass, being shown the gape your cock has made of her ass. Seoyeon is not making any sound right now, so you hope that she’s just drained and still fine. You peck her on the back of the head before going to the bathroom to start the shower.
After making sure that everything is set in the bathroom, you go back to the bedroom and touch her back, “no, no, daddy. Pochacco, please—fuck—I can’t take it anymore. Please, I’m begging you”, she says while panicking, saying her safe word for good measure. “Hey, hey, calm down, baby. We’re done for tonight. There’s nothing to worry about, okay?”, you soothe her while petting her head softly. “Let me take care of you, alright? The shower is ready”, you say to her before carrying her to the bathroom.
You sit her down on the stool since you figure that she won’t be able to stand up on her own after getting wrecked in all 3 holes. You start cleaning her back as usual before kneeling in front of her. “Oppa, did you like it? I-I hope I did well”, she says. “Baby, it was amazing and you did excellent. Thank you so much”, you say before going in for a kiss. “I thought my ass was on fire, oppa—“, she says after pulling away, so you hug her as a gesture of apology, “—but I think I liked it, you felt much bigger in my ass”. “Are you saying we should do it again? I think it was amazing”, you ask with hopefulness in your voice. “O-oh, yeah, sure”, she says before looking away, subtle pink tint on her cheeks.
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You two get back into the bed after showering to start cuddling. You’re half-mindedly petting her head that’s currently tucked against your chest, inching closer to sleep before your brain reminds you of something. “Hey, baby, what happened? I thought you weren’t ready for anal?”, you ask her. “Ahh, oppa”, she whines cutely and slaps your chest lightly, “a friend told me that she had just given her anal cherry to her boyfriend as a birthday present, an-and I figured that maybe I could do that as well should you win the tournament”, she continues. “I must say that you’re crazy but I’m also thankful”, you say before kissing her head, “but where did the daddy kink come from?”, you follow up. Before saying anything, she pulls away from the cuddle and gets on top of you, “I.. want to be yours, like yours yours, you know?”, she says before looking away from your deep gaze, “I figured that I could be your subby baby and let you do whatever to me to prove my sincerity”.
You’re absolutely stunned by her answer, “you know you didn’t need to do all that, right? You know I love you”, you say to her. “Yes, yes, you always say that you love me, but I still want to do it. Please, oppa, accept me”, she says. You pull her down and hug her tightly, “of course, baby. I love you so much, okay?”, you then whisper in her ear, getting back into the dominant character, “you’re mine from now on, and you’ll do whatever I ask you to, you understand?”. “Yes, daddy. From now on, I’m your slut”, she replies, her voice laced with submission to you. Satisfied with her answer, you wrap her in your arms once again and take her to the dreamland while the gears in your head start spinning, trying to come up with things to do to her in the future.
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muiitoloko · 2 months ago
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Omg the fluff severus being a father!! Can we also get a fic where he and his wife discover they are having twins? In my mind palace that poor man had the happiest ending idc idc
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Title: Double the Love
Summary: Severus and you learn that you’re having twin, and Severus faces the overwhelming realization that fatherhood will be double the challenge—and double the love.
Pairing: Severus Snape × Fem! Reader
Warnings: None.
Author's Notes: I absolutely loved writing this! But I have to admit, I was seriously wondering, how on earth do wizards even do ultrasounds? 😅 Since I couldn’t figure that one out, I just made it as magical and slightly ridiculous as possible, because why not, right? 😅 It’s a short piece, but I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
First, Second and Third part here.
Also read on Ao3
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The sterile white walls of St. Mungo’s were a far cry from the dimly lit, comforting darkness of the Hogwarts dungeons, and the bustling noise of Healers moving in and out of rooms only added to your nerves. You lay on the hospital bed, your hands resting on your growing belly, feeling the faint fluttering of movement within. At 22 weeks pregnant, today was the day you would find out the sex of your baby.
You glanced over at Severus, who sat beside you with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression as stoic as ever. He wasn’t exactly the picture of calm, though you knew him well enough to recognize the subtle tension in the way his jaw tightened and the way his long, slender fingers tapped against his arm. He was just as anxious as you, though he would never admit it.
The memory of last night brought a small smile to your face. You had caught him at his desk, a quill in hand, scribbling something on a piece of parchment with a concentration usually reserved for complex potion-making. When you peeked over his shoulder, you were both surprised and amused to find a list of baby names—both for boys and girls.
“Trying to choose a worthy name, Severus?” you had teased, leaning against the back of his chair.
He had glanced up at you, his expression unreadable but a faint blush creeping up his neck. “A name is important,” he had replied curtly. “It must be fitting. I won’t have our child saddled with something… inadequate.”
You had laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I trust you’ll find the perfect one.”
Now, as you waited for the Healer to arrive, the memory of that moment helped calm your nerves a little. Severus might be intimidating and stern on the surface, but beneath all that, he was already a devoted father—one who was taking the task of naming your child with the same seriousness he applied to everything else in life.
“Are you nervous?” you asked softly, your hand reaching out to rest on his knee.
Severus glanced down at your hand, his dark eyes softening ever so slightly. “Nervous? Hardly,” he replied, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness. “But I do wish this process would hurry along.”
You chuckled, knowing full well that was his way of admitting that he, too, was anxious. “Don’t worry, Severus. I’m sure the Healer will be here soon, and we’ll find out if we’re having a boy or a girl.”
He nodded, though his expression remained neutral. “Either way,” he said quietly, “the child will be exceptional.”
Before you could respond, the door opened, and a cheerful Healer stepped inside, her robes swishing around her as she smiled at you both. “Good afternoon!” she greeted, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “I hear we’re ready to check on the little one?”
You nodded, sitting up slightly as she prepared the equipment. Severus remained seated, though his gaze followed every movement the Healer made with an intensity that might have unnerved a lesser witch.
“All right, let’s take a look,” the Healer said, positioning her wand over your belly. The gentle hum of magic filled the room as the spell illuminated the area, and you watched in awe as the image of your baby appeared on the enchanted screen.
Severus leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied the image with the same level of scrutiny he used when examining a particularly difficult potion.
“There we are,” the Healer said softly. “And… oh!”
Your heart skipped a beat at her sudden exclamation, and you shot her a nervous glance. “What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
The Healer’s smile widened, and she turned the screen so that both you and Severus could see it more clearly. “It appears you’re not having just one baby,” she said, her tone filled with excitement. “You’re having two! Twins!”
For a moment, the room was utterly silent. You stared at the screen, your mind struggling to process the words. Twins. Two babies. You glanced over at Severus, expecting to see some kind of reaction, but he was still as a statue, his dark eyes fixed on the screen. His usual calm exterior had been shattered by the news, and you could see the shock written all over his face.
"Twins?" he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Two?"
The Healer nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, two healthy little girls, from what I can see. Congratulations!"
Severus blinked slowly, his mind clearly racing as he tried to absorb the information. “Two girls,” he murmured, almost to himself. You watched him carefully, waiting for his response, but it seemed like he was still in a state of shock.
You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Two girls, Severus! We’re going to have two daughters!”
Severus slowly turned to look at you, his expression a mix of disbelief and what could only be described as mild horror. “Two daughters,” he repeated, his voice flat. “Two sets of diapers. Two mouths to feed. Two…”
“Two future boyfriends,” you teased, unable to resist poking fun at him. “You’re going to have to keep an eye on them, Daddy Snape.”
At that, Severus paled even further, his eyes widening as the full weight of what you had just said hit him. “Future boyfriends?” he muttered, his voice tinged with dread. “I hadn’t… considered that.”
The image of Severus Snape dealing with teenage boys showing up at your door to take his daughters out on dates was too much, and you laughed even harder, clutching your belly as the joy of the moment overwhelmed you.
Severus stood frozen, the image of two tiny forms flickering on the screen in front of him. The words still echoed in his mind: two girls. He blinked, his dark eyes wide with shock, as the reality of it sank in. Two daughters. Two daughters. The healer’s voice faded into the background as his imagination took off, propelled by the unrelenting force of his overprotective instincts.
He could almost see it—boys knocking on his door at Hogwarts, their foolish, eager faces trying to charm their way past him to court his daughters. His daughters. His mind raced, spinning out scenarios of teenage boys chasing after them in the corridors, their idiotic grins widening as they tried to impress with foolish stunts or—worse—terrible jokes. What if one of his daughters dated an idiot? Or Merlin forbid, someone like Potter?
No! The thought alone was enough to send a surge of panic through him. His face, usually so composed, paled visibly.
“Severus?” Your voice, soft and filled with emotion, broke through the haze. You had grabbed his arm, your eyes shining with tears—tears of joy, not fear. “Two girls, Severus,” you whispered, pulling him into a tight hug, your hands trembling as they wrapped around him. “We’re going to have two beautiful little girls.”
Severus blinked, returning to the present as he felt your warmth against him, your joy flooding over him. His arms, stiff at first, slowly circled around you, holding you close. He could feel the tremor in your breath as you buried your face in his chest, your tears dampening the fabric of his robes.
Two little girls. The words echoed in his mind again, but this time the image was softer—more intimate. He could see it now: two girls with your smile, your laugh, your bright eyes full of curiosity and mischief. They would have your warmth, your kindness—your fire.
He held you a little tighter, knowing how emotional you had been these past few days, and a wave of tenderness washed over him. His thumb gently brushed your shoulder, a small gesture of comfort.
“Two girls,” you whispered again, your voice breaking with joy, and he could hear the love in your words. “Double the love, Severus.”
Severus closed his eyes, resting his chin on top of your head, letting the moment settle around him. His heart swelled, a strange and unfamiliar feeling, yet it was not unwelcome. The weight of it, the sheer enormity of the love that was building inside him, was overwhelming. He had never expected this—any of this. He had never thought that someone like him would be capable of this kind of happiness.
The healer’s voice floated back into his awareness. “Would you like pictures of the babies?” she asked, her tone gentle.
Snape nodded without hesitation, his gaze still fixed on the screen, where the tiny forms of their daughters moved faintly, their lives just beginning. He looked down at you again, still holding him, still crying softly with joy. His hand found the small of your back, steady and reassuring.
Two little girls.
He could almost see them in his mind’s eye—two mini versions of you, with your delicate features, your bright personality, and your fierce determination. He allowed himself, for the briefest moment, to imagine them laughing and playing, their voices filling the halls of Hogwarts. And him… there, watching over them, protecting them from anything that might dare to harm them.
A small, uncertain smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought about it—two little yous. His chest tightened at the thought, but then a new fear crept in. What if they looked like him?
He swallowed hard, his mind immediately racing back to his own school days. His hooked nose. The way he had been mocked and ridiculed. The cruel taunts, the laughter, the sneers. He didn’t want that for them. He didn’t want his daughters to suffer the same way he had.
“What are you thinking?” your voice broke through his dark thoughts. You had pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his face. “You’ve gone quiet.”
Severus hesitated, his hand resting protectively on your belly. “I was…” He cleared his throat, the words catching slightly before he forced them out. “I was hoping… that they’ll look like you.”
You blinked in surprise, then smiled softly, a knowing look crossing your face. “Severus,” you said gently, cupping his cheek with your hand. “They’ll be beautiful no matter what. Whether they look like you or me.”
He looked down at you, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. “I don’t want them to suffer… like I did.”
Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, and you shook your head, pulling him closer again. “They won’t,” you whispered fiercely, pressing your lips to his chest. “Because they’ll have you. They’ll have us. And we’ll make sure they know how loved they are.”
Snape stood there for a long moment, simply holding you, feeling the warmth of your words seep into him, dispelling the old fears. As he looked back at the image of their daughters on the screen, a sense of peace settled over him. Two girls. Two daughters. His family.
Our family.
And for the first time in his life, Severus Snape allowed himself to believe that he could truly have something this good, this pure. Two little girls with your smile. And even if they did have his nose… well, they would still be perfect.
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months ago
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Can I request headcanons for Remy with shy gn s/o please?
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Remy loves how shy you get whenever he does near enough anything.
Your flustered and cute responses to his affection only made Remy want to smother and flirt with you all the more than he already did! You were far too sweet for many but to him you were just sweet enough that it should be forbidden.
He’d kiss the back of your hand, guide you by the small of your back through crowed areas, press tender kisses against the side of you head just to see that sweet, timid smile of yours that you always made before looking away from him to calm your reaching heart.
It was Remy’s favourite part of being with you is knowing that your reactions were genuine, not an ounce of emotion you’ve shown him was fake or fabricated. You may hate it but Remy loved it more than ever as it meant he could tell the effect he had on you no matter what.
‘Good morning mom Cherie.’ He said while pressing a kiss to your cheek as you smiled sheepishly at him. It fills with nothing but warmth and a sensation that felt as though he had butterflies in his stomach.
‘Good morning Remy.’ You reply and he couldn’t help but steal a kiss from your lips, causing you to squeak in surprise.
‘Remy.’ You whined, ‘we talked about you surprising me with affection and how it gets me.’
‘I know and I’m sorry mom Cher but you are just the sweetest thing alive that I just wanna eat you up.’ Remy replied as he gently nipped at your bottom lip cheekily, causing you to softly swat his arm before crossing your arms over your chest.
‘Am I forgiven?’ - Remy
‘I guess .’ - you
He loved the squeals and jolts you did whether he held you from behind before meting into his hold as though it’ll keep you safe and protected, you had so much trust in him with your heart that he was genuinely worried that he might make you regret giving him such an important task one day.
He respects your boundaries for if you feel things have gone on long enough, he wasn’t going to push you out of your comfort zone for his needs or wants, he just wands and needs you to be happy.
So for now he takes to appreciating every moment he gets to spend with you no matter what as you deserved to be worshiped and appreciated for everything you’ve given him, and if you ever were to show an ounce of insecurity about yourself, Remy was more then ready to shower you in sweet whispers and tender kisses and lovingly hugs to show you that you were everything and more to him if that was even possible.
‘Wouldn’t you be with someone more confident or social?’ You’d ask him one day and it broke his heart to hear you say such things because why should he desire anyone else when he has you.
‘And why do you i should be with someone like that when i have everything I’ll ever want or need right in front of me.’ He replied, kneeling in front of you with worried expression. You shrug. ‘I just don’t think we’re compatible and that what we have won’t last and you’ll find someone who can keep up with you..’
‘Oh mon Cher.’ Remy sighed as he held your hands in his, intertwining your fingers, bringing them to his lips as he kissed each and every one of your fingers. ‘We’re more compatible then you think, you may think we don’t fit well together but to me we couldn’t be two piece of the same puzzle, meant to be in more ways then one. We fill in the others blanks, we balance each other out and there should be nothing more important then that.’ Remy concludes as he eyes your lips.
‘May I kiss you mon Cher?’ He asks
‘You never have to ask but yes, yes you may kiss me. That sounds good right about now.’ You answered chuckling as Remy kissed you gently and slowly but deeply enough to convey his feelings towards you.
Remy didn’t care that you were shy or less interested in social interactions or were more of a homebody type of person, you were perfect the way you were and Remy wouldn’t want you any other way.
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