#and this is how I felt nonstop: far too hot
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alena-draws · 4 months ago
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I seriously don't know how he manages being in his big coat and leather undergear all the time
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hotyanderedaddies · 9 months ago
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Trying to Ignore a Yandere Demon Who Wants to Claim You
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[Yandere! Demon x GN! Anxious Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
"Whatever you do, do not-- I repeat: DO NOT acknowledge the demon in any manner. If you do, then he can latch onto you and take you."
The words of the psychic you'd contacted for help kept filtering through your head as you stared blankly forward, forcing your eyes to laser focus in on the bright colors of the TV. The volume was on full blast as you attempted to drown out the sounds of him.
"Darling," that eerie, deep voice echoed out. Its user was so close that could feel its hot breath wafting over your cheek, but you refused to give the slightest indication that you'd heard it.
"If a love demon decides that it wants you, then it'll follow you around nonstop like a lovesick puppy. It'll do anything to get you to notice it..."
The demon playfully ran one of his fingers through your hair, his skin hot to the touch. He completely dwarfed you, looking like he outweighed you by fifty pounds of pure muscle and was taller by at least two feet. His demonic proportions made him look hulking and menacing, yet whenever he looked at you, his mouth pulled into a large smile.... full of razor sharp teeth.
"Will you look at me, Darling?" he asked, sticking out his lower lip mockingly. "I love you. I only want to talk to my darling."
"Don't look at it. Don't listen to it. Don't react to its movements. The slightest indication that you're aware of its presence is a sign the demon takes that you've agreed to be theirs..."
The demon huffed, irritated. He stomped his way in front of the TV and glared at you with his glowing eyes. "I know you see me," he accused.
You refused to stop glancing forward, pretending that you could still see whatever show you were trying to watch.
The demon tore his shirt away from his body, showing off his impressive chest muscles. He held his arms out, as if to show off to you. "Check it out, Darling," he announced, "I'm bigger than most of the other love demons. So I can protect you and take very good care of you."
He slowly approached the couch.
"Because a love demon makes its presence known to only one person: their darling."
"I love you so much, Darling," the demon cooed, placing both of his hands on either side of your face.
You winced internally and tried your best to look deadpan, avoiding the demon's glare with all of your might.
You refused to break, because if you did, then you'd belong to a demon for all eternity.
But damn it, he was persistent.
Ever since he'd made his presence known to you last week, the demon followed you around everywhere you went, trying to get you to acknowledge him:
He'd cause a ruckus in class, throwing textbooks and chairs around, leading to the other students thinking that you were out of your mind and throwing them yourself.
He'd follow you into the shower and jerk off as you bathed, talking about how he couldn't wait to touch you himself.
He'd sing soft lullabies to you as you tried to sleep. And he would frequently get under the covers with you too, snuggling you from behind.
He'd follow you whenever you went grocery shopping, threatening to push one of the elderly shoppers in front of one of the moving vehicles in the parking lot. But you couldn't warn the other person unless you wanted to be taken by a demon. RIP.
He'd even gone so far as to set your dinner on the stove on fire, and you had to mutter loudly that you'd foolishly forgotten to turn the gas off.
He was growing impatient.
"Darling," the demon growled, baring his large teeth at you, "all you have to do is notice me, and I promise that you'll be all mine. All mine, and no one else's. Doesn't my sweet baby want that?"
He bit down on his lower lip for a second before perking up.
Before you could guess what was going on in his mischievous head, the demon pressed his warm lips against yours. They were soft to the touch and warm thanks to his high body heat.
It felt good at first, until he playfully bit down on your lower lip--
With a loud gasp, you jerked back and made eye contact with the demon out of shock. Oh shit...
"Finally!" the love demon laughed as your heart fell to the floor.
He lunged forward and wrapped both of his arms around you, yanking you deep into his embrace as if he were a cage. The temperature seemed to rise rapidly in the tiny living room as the demon began to transport you to wherever he dwelled, and to wherever you knew he'd never let you leave.
"W-wait!" you tried to beg.
"It's too late for that, Darling," the love demon laughed. "You're mine and I'm going to enjoy my prize all night long. I love you, Darling, thank you so much for accepting me."
"If you acknowledge the love demon, they'll take you away to be theirs forever, with no hope of ever escaping them or their crazed love..."
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misserabella · 1 year ago
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gonna need an abby version of your ‘sexting ellie williams’ fics bc god am i obsessed with that woman
a/n; you ask and you shall receive
sexting with gf! abby! ♡
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pt2
cw; +18 content! minors dni!, sexting, drinking (reader is in a party and drunk), description of a video of reader touching herself, abby being as cocky as ever, top! abby, bottom! reader, fingering, praising, oral sex (r receiving), cum eating, making out, allusions of sex with strap…
3:24 AM
abs
abssssss
abbyyyyy
sht abayuyyy
abby groaned as her phone buzzed nonstop, reaching for it and squinting her eyes at the screen’s light. she took a peak at the hour. holy fuck. 3AM?
baby? what the hell? why are you up this late?
partyyyy
u’re at a party rn? bfr
yessss. owen’s
i’m gonna kill him. why did he let you drink this much?
i’m not deinkkk
you’re definitely drunk, doll. i’m gonna go get you, alright? stay put wherever u are and don’t move.
no no lsten, i have something impurtabt to telll u
what is it?
ik i’m drunk rn but in gunna marry you
you’re gonna marry me?
abby was laughing at your texts. yes, she was worried you had been drinking, but you were at owen’s and you were safe. and it was so fucking fun to watch you try and type correctly.
yes
i’m marryin u
even if you r meanb
me? when have i been mean to you baby?
rn
right now?
yeahh, ‘cause tou’re sooooj beautiful
all i fan think about are your lips rn
why r u not heyre?
okay. you’re really drunk, baby, why don’t you wait for me and we talk about this when i get there, hm?
no.
u r gonna take sooooiii long
you’ve pretty eyesX
they look so good when u go down on me
abby’s eyes widened, and her whole body seemed to burn. shit.
yeah? they look good princess?
mmmh
want u
and you’re so far away rn it’s nor fair
that was a fucking lie. abby was already on the road to get there. shit. she loved it when you went all needy on her. and when you were drunk? you had no filter. always screaming and moaning so loud she sometimes would have to muzzle you to not have the neighbors knocking on her door.
oh baby, why don’t you come here and sit on my face? my tongue will say sorry for me
your cheeks flushed, and your cunt throbbed. you loved it when she’d make you sit on her face, her tongue unrelenting on fucking you over and over again until you wouldn’t cum anymore. you needed her. and you needed her right now. the bathroom you had gone in felt suddenly too hot and your panties too sticky. you hissed when your fingers pushed in them, feeling just how wet you had become for her. you couldn’t help but plunge a finger inside your tight hole. of course, your fingers weren’t as near as largue and thick as abby’s, but you needed something until she’d get there and do it for you.
csn i tell u s secret?
ofc princess, what is it?
i’m fucking my pussy rn
jesus christ. abby almost hit the breaks. almost crashed when you send her a video of —now— two of your fingers fucking inside your tight and squelching walls. she could hear your little whimpers and pants.
couldnt wair abymore
i need you so bad abby pkease
shit. writing with only one hand and drunk wasn’t that easy. you were whimpering and moaning as you fingered yourself on the bathroom of owen’s party. you thanked god the music was loud enough to muffle your sounds, ‘cause you surely couldn’t swallow them back inside.
abby was exceeding the speed limit to get there, practically parking on top of owen’s lawn as she jumped out of the car, running towards the house.
where.
bathroom
she didn’t even say hi to owen as she passed right through him, her blood boiling as she ran upstairs and swung the door open. you hadn’t even locked it. fucking hell.
abby almost went down on her knees when she saw you sitting on the toilet’s lid with a hand buried in between your thighs and your phone on the other, your chat open and showing on the screen. your senses came back to you as you heard the lock turning, and you moaned when you saw her.
did i say almost? abby had never been quicker to kneel down, her strong arms pushing your legs on top of her shoulders to move your hand away and, after cleaning up your fingers with her tongue, hurriedly burying her face in your cunt. your back arched, and you let out a scream that made her groan, lapping at your juices. you were so fucking wet…
“fuck, abby!” you cried out when she plunged her own fingers deep inside your cunt, easily finding your g spot.
she cooed. “my princess was just feeling needy. weren’t you, baby? poor thing. so horny for me couldn’t wait until i could get here. sending me a video of touching your tight little cunt just to tease me, didn’t you?” you whimpered, bucking your hips against her touch, your back arching.
“please abby… your mouth.” you begged.
“you want my mouth baby? want me to eat this soaked pretty pussy of yours?” you nodded, pleading for it, and she followed, her tongue meeting your clit and making you moan. “so fucking loud…” she groaned, starting to devour you to get out of you more or those pleasured sounds. she was starving. and you were falling apart, melting under her tongue.
“abby!” you screamed when her tongue fucked inside of you, her arms tugging from you to get closer, her nose nudging your clit. the alcohol made you feel dizzy, and the pleasure only seemed to grow and grow. you could feel it shocking through your body, her grunts making your body gave into her. you needed her.
“fuck, you look so fucking beautiful. need you bouncing on my cock baby.” you whimpered, nodding.
“yes please, abby, please, need you to fuck me.” you were a babbling mess, her tongue teasing you and making you squirm. she adored making you tremble, seeing you get more and more desperate for her to make you cum.
“yeah? need me to fuck you sweet girl? need me to to fuck your brains out?” you nodded, moaning, your chest heaving harshly, your thighs shaking at the sides of her head, your back arched when her fingers, three this time, plunged inside of you, abusing your g spot and making you see stars. “i will princess. but first you’re gonna cum on my tongue, isn’t that right?” your hands found her hair, tugging when she sucked down on your sensitive and puffy clit. “yeah, of course you are. you are squeezing my fingers so tight, fuck… you always take them so well baby. such a fucking good girl for me. can’t wait to see you taking my cock.“ you could feel the warmth on your stomach grow and grow.
“abby, i’m gonna…! i’m cumming!” you cried out, and she only fingered you faster, harder. it was imposible to describe. this feeling. her.
“go ahead baby, let me clean you all up.” she smirked, and with a last thrust and lick at your clit you were falling apart, making her groan when you pushed her face harder against your gushing cunt. you whited out.
she helped you ride it as your moans broke, your hips stuttering and your creamy white and salt cum painted her fingers. she moaned against you, cleaning it with her tongue and humming at the taste. there was nothing she loved more than giving you head.
once you’d calmed down and your breathing had evened out, she pulled her fingers out to push them inside her mouth. you whined as you watched her, with lips swollen and chin soaked in your juices.
“let’s get out of here.” she said, and you nodded, not before kissing her so deeply you left her as drunk and dizzy as you felt.
yeah. she was definitely gonna marry you.
….
LORD. that was filthy asf. i’m sorry… or nah.🤭
hope you enjoyed. remember to support your writers! <3
abby anderson masterlist! <3
xxx
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 1 year ago
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Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Castiel x teen!reader Jack x teen!reader (all platonic)
Requested by @little-bug-butt
Synopsis: just some little shorts about the Impala being the best place on earth.
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You turned the back of the Impala into your own personal sleeping quarters and got comfortable right away. Sam had dragged you out of bed far too early, insisting that it was time to move on, since the hunt was over. You had been asleep by the time the boys had gotten back from a quick vamp job, and they woke you after showering and getting about three hours of sleep.
Despite your grumpy exhaustion, the thrum of the Impala’s engine starting up brought a smile tugging at your lips. In most cases, sleeping in a car was incredibly uncomfortable, but not in the Impala. The backseat was large and fairly accommodating, and the purr of Baby’s engine was better than any lullaby.
It still wasn’t a bed, but it was warm and it was safe, and that was all you could ask for.
“Do you think we’re doing this right?” The sound of Sam’s whispering caught your attention, but you kept your eyes closed as you attempted to sleep.
“What, the job?” Dean asked. “We haven’t even gotten there yet.”
“No, not the job, Y/N.”
“What about her?” Dean’s voice dropped in volume.
“I mean, we’ve been going from job to job nonstop for a while now. I don’t wanna wear her out.”
“She’s fine, look at her. She’s out like a light.”
You struggled to hold back your smile at this. You hadn’t realized that your feigned sleep was so convincing.
“You sure? I mean she’s been kinda quiet lately.”
“I’m sure she’s just tired. She’s gonna be alright, we all are.”
“I just don’t wanna screw this up, you know? With dad gone, I’m not sure I know how to—“
“She doesn’t need a replacement for dad, Sam. Just be a good brother and she’ll be alright.”
The car lapsed into silence after that, and you found yourself drifting in and out of sleep until the sun began to rise. It was still early, and you were still tired, but you shifted in your seat to watch the sunrise anyway.
When Dean saw that you were awake, he reached up and turned on the radio. You craned your neck to see Sam dozing, but he could sleep through anything, so Dean’s Metallica tape wasn’t a problem.
Neither of you spoke to break the still, silent morning, but you still felt connected to your big brother as the two of you watched the sun cast it’s pinkish glow over the black hood of the Impala. The air was crisp, but the light of dawn brought with it a warm blanketing shine that brought an easy smile to your lips. You took a deep breath, and somewhere between Dean’s cologne and the smell of fast food you could smell the fresh air of the morning. Or, more likely than not, you were imagining it, and the only fresh smell was the little green tree air freshener that you had hung up to make the car smell better, and Dean had immediately taken off and flung into the backseat.
“Good morning,” Dean finally broke the silence, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “You doing ok?”
“Yeah,” you smiled at him. “I’m doing just fine.”
“Ow! Cas, that’s my hand.”
“Sorry, but you’re in my space.”
“So not true! Jack, close the window.”
“But it’s hot in here.”
“If you kids don’t shut up, I’m going to turn this car around!” Dean snapped from the front seat.
“Did you call me a child?” Cas complained.
“No more talking, that’s the rule for the next hundred miles,” Dean grunted.
Sam said nothing, just smirking as Dean went to turn on the radio.
“What?” He snapped when he saw Sam’s face.
“Oh I’m not saying a word,” Sam said before sliding his fingers in front of his lips in a “zipping my lips” motion.
“Smart,” Dean grumbled, changing his mind on the radio and instead opting to watch the scenery.
After a few minutes silence became comfortable, and the five of you continued like that for hours. You were smashed up against the side of the Impala, Cas and Jack taking up most of the space, but once your leg went numb you could kind of ignore it.
The silence was peaceful, the most peace all of you had had in a while. You watched the sun dipped below the horizon with your head leaning against the cool glass of the window. Once the sun was down, however, you leaned back in your seat, resting your head against Castiel’s shoulder as you began to nod off. He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shift in his seat so that you could lean more comfortably on him. You didn’t often get this close to the angel, and if you’d been fully awake you would’ve probably been too self-conscious to take up so much of his personal space. But Cas didn’t mind, in fact he was almost flattered that you felt comfortable enough around him to sleep on him.
When the Impala reached its destination and Dean said, “Alright, let’s go,” he was surprised when Cas shushed him, gesturing to you.
“Should we—“
“Don’t wake her,” Sam said. “She hasn’t been sleeping too well lately. I’ll get her.”
“No I’ve got her,” Dean said, opening the backseat door and easing you away from Cas, lifting you easily into his arms.
“Cas?” You mumbled, stirring in Dean’s arms.
“Shh, go back to sleep kid.”
You didn’t argue, and within seconds you were dozing in Dean’s arms as he carried you into the motel room.
The five of you had to start early the next morning, but when Cas entered the room that you and your brothers were sharing, he found you still asleep.
“Can you get her up?” Dean called from the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.
“Y/N?” You groaned as Cas shook your shoulder. “It’s time to go, c’mon.”
“I’ll stay here,” you mumbled before turning over and pulling your pillow over your head.
“I don’t think that’s an option,” Cas frowned.
“Cas,” Sam sighed. “You can’t wake her up like that.”
“Then how—“
“Alright, up!”
“Wait—“ you groaned as Sam grabbed your ankles and yanked you out of bed, an “oof!” Escaping you as you landed hard on your back.
“Let’s go,” Sam insisted, stepping over you to pack his bag.
“Jerk,” you grumbled as you started to get ready.
Twenty minutes later, you were on the road again, and the gentle lull of Baby’s engine had you dozing again.
“You sleep a lot,” you lifted your head at the sound of Jack’s voice, who was now sitting next to you instead of Cas.
“It’s the only way to cope though Dean’s playlist, if I was conscious I’d have to listen to it.”
“Hey, I can hear you!” Dean protested.
“Good, then maybe you’ll update your collection.”
The two of you bickered for a while before eventually giving up, and the car once again lapsed into comfortable silence. You leaned against the window, the purr of Baby’s engine and the miles of fields bringing a calm to you that you hadn’t been able to feel lately. It blanketed the car, creating a vortex of protection from the chaos that enthralled the lives of the people inside.
It felt as though as long as they were in the Impala, nothing could touch them. They were together, they were warm, and they were safe.
They were home.
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b-00-biez · 2 years ago
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Hii! I was wondering if you could maybe write something along the lines of "slashers with an s/o who thinks they're not enough for them and starts distancing themselves" maybe not that long but something of the sort :) this is my first ever ask so I do apologise if I can't quite get my thought across. :)
Slasher with an S/o that distance themselves
Characters: Bo Sinclair, Patrick Bateman, Brahms heelshire, Thomas Hewitt, Ghostface
Bo Sinclair
You were staring at the mirror too long looking at your body
pinching your imperfections and flaws
This has been going on for some time now and bo doesnt really realize it
You locked yourself in the shared room, refused sex and even slightly avoided him when hes around
He was pissed
"Sweetheart come here we need to talk."
With a stern voice he sits you on his lap and embraces you
He asks you what's going on in your lil mind and why have you been avoiding him for the past weeks
You started to tear up and tremble as you tell him you're not good enough for him, that you always mess up and you're not like the girls in his magazines ( yeah i believe he has a stash of magazines hidden like a perv 😭)
He coos at you hugging you tighter as he rocks you on his lap
"Darling, you're all what this big pervert needs, now give me some sugar"
He kissed your cheek lovingly nothing like youd expect from this sly man
Patrick Bateman
This man has girls all over him , flirting with him cause he is absolutely handsome
Although he completely ignores them
You started to feel
insecure
All the girls were hot and corvy and youre you
Well thats what you thought, after a few months you started to distance yourself hoping that maybe he would find someone "better"
One night you wake up to your door ringing nonstop and when you check the peep hole you see your boyfriend standing there with 100 roses, neatly in a bouquet as he was dressed nicely
You opened your door slowly just putting your face out, he noticed you crying cause of your swollen eyelids.
He handed you the flowers and held you which felt like it lasted an hour
"Darling I know you aren't feeling well and I'd like to take you on a little date to show how much i truly love you. Will you accept it?"
He kissed your hand while grabbing gently at your waist
Brahms Heelshire
All he talked about was Greta and how she looked pretty unlike any other
And even after you were in a relationship with him you felt... ignored
You wanted to scream at him how youre here and that shes gone
but instead you neglected your duties as a nanny and locked yourself in your room for more than 3 days
Although you feel eyes watching you through the walls, you didnt care to budge
Until he kicked the door open.
He was tired of you neglecting him as he stared at you in anger
His eyes softened seeing you balled up in your bed sniffling and whimpering
First he thought you were sick as he checked whether you were hurt or not
But when you couldnt stop crying he left leaving you some space then he came back
with a little toy he cherished as a boy
"I'm sorry, I hope you feel better. Heres my toy maybe youll feel better holding it. It worked when i was sad" he said in his childish voice
He gently caressed your head as he repeatedly said in a warm voice "I love you"
Thomas Hewitt
Hoyt made you feel like a piece of shit
Every night and day he would remind you that you were easily replaceable and you're just like a little pet that even if you die. Thomas will find someone else
That was far from what you experienced with Thomas when he holds you gently in his arms something he wouldn't do with any other victim
But nevertheless Hoyt's bullying got the best of you
Even doing chores and even at dinner youd avoid thomas, as you said youd be eating somewhere else or you werent hungry
Hoyt was snickering and scoffing at your petty behavior as he exclaimed to Thomas that he should kill you for not being "family"
Before Thomas could break his brittle neck you stopped him with shaky hands on his shoulder
You marched back up to your shared bedroom and sulk
He would pick up on this newly found behavior as he confronts you when everyone else was asleep
Once you tell hime how you felt he caressed your cheeks looking at you with sad eyes then cuddles you in bed trying his best to comfort you.
Ghostface
He was getting way too close to a girl
Although in his part he was just befriending her to kill her sooner
But thats before you knew your boyfriend's little hobby of his
You would ignore him at school, lunch even ghosting him in text and when he would go to your house you would just lock the door and tell your parents that you werent in the mood to talk to him
One afternoon when your parents were away you were watching the news
The girl he was with was killed that night
Afraid of who might it be thinking it must be someone at your school
You hear the doorbell rang
Seeing a guy in a mask you felt shivers down your spine as you answered the door you heard a familiar voice
"Hey baby, I felt you were a bit jealous so i killed her sooner. So don't be mad at me hm? My eyes and attention are only for you babe."
As he slowly gave you the dead girl's hand and slipped her ring onto yours
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astridselixir · 1 year ago
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"𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐭. 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠."
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Pairings: Yoru x fem!reader
Summary: After a stressful day filled with missions and nonstop training sessions which involved Brimstone yelling at everyone around, it was safe to say that you and Yoru were exhausted. So, as always, you two decided to let off some steam. And what better way to do that than to have his pretty lover, you, ride him?
Warnings: p in v, riding, use of pet names, bit of degradation, unprotected sex, breeding, porn w/o plot
(A/n: When I heard Yoru say this in a match, I just knew I had to write it. Istg, I go feral everytime this man speaks.)
(NSFW below the cut!)
ִ ࣪𖤐*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
“That’s it. Keep going.” Yoru breathes out, hands tightly gripping your hips as you moved up and down on his length, whines and moans of pleasure escaping your lips every now and then. Such pretty sounds, he thinks. But then again, everything about you was pretty.
“Look at you. Fuck. Such a slut for my cock, hm?” You were far too out of it to even process what he said, so you only nodded, hoping you weren’t making a fool of yourself in front of him
Seeing this, he chuckles, squeezing your supple flesh reassuringly as he continues to watch you ride him, guiding you here and there. What a glorious sight; Yoru knew this image of you would be stuck in his head for days. He relished in the way you bounced on him, tits mimicking the movement of your hips as you lost yourself in pleasure. He wished he could stay in this moment forever, within the warmth of your gummy walls.
Your eyes were screwed shut, head thrown back with a fucked out expression painted across your face. One hand was firmly planted behind you, on top of Yoru’s leg as you straddled him while the other rubbed quick circles on your clit.
Fuck, you looked like a goddess. He was losing his mind over how heavenly you appeared to be as you played with yourself.
You could say this was your favorite part of the day; sexual tension finally getting released in the bedroom, relieving both you and Yoru. This is definitely what you both need after such a stressful day. A good fuck.
I mean, working as an agent for Valorant was stress itself alone. And it’s worse knowing either of you could get injured at any given moment, or maybe even die. But you try not to think about it too much as it would only make things worse.
As you both continued, it was as if fumes from your intimate activity were clouding the entire room, creating an atmosphere of sex and need. One that felt warm and moist on your skin, added with a bit of familiarity.
“F-fuck. ‘m close, so close.” You uttered out, hips desperately grinding on Yoru’s to reach that sweet climax you’ve been working so hard for.
Hearing this, he bites his bottom lip, forcing a stop to your movements which earned a frustrated exhale from you. You opened your eyes, vision slightly hindered by tears as you turned to look at him. You tilted your head to the side, shifting in your position while giving him a look of confusion.
The agent only chuckled at this, amused by your frustration. He enjoyed seeing you suffer— it was a guilty pleasure of his. He rubbed small comforting circles onto the skin of your hips before answering,
“Come here, my love. You’ve done so much work already, let me take care of the rest.”
The minute those words left his mouth, butterflies exploded in your stomach, an even warmer sensation coating your already hot cheeks. You nodded eagerly as you moved, leaning down and wrapping your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his skin and planting soft kisses on it. He in response, smiled at this, kissing the side of your head before placing his hands on your back, rubbing it soothingly and getting into a comfortable position— one that he can easily thrust into.
“I love you so much.” He whispered, tucking away a strand of hair behind your ear.
Just when you were about to respond, you were cut off when Yoru slammed his hips into yours, the tip of his cock instantly kissing your cervix, causing your mouth to hang open and your eyes to roll back. The words died down on your throat, getting replaced by a loud moan that was both from surprise and pleasure as he practically drilled into your dripping cunt.
Babbles of his name rolled off of your tongue like a prayer, nails digging into his skin as you mewled, the sensation becoming almost too much to bear.
Oh, you were so close. So close that you were practically hovering over the edge. All you needed now was just something to push you off, and luckily for you, Yoru knew exactly how to do that.
Tears slipped out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you sobbed, begging the man beneath you to let you cum.
“Wanna cum so bad. Please, please, please. Please let me cum.” You cried out, your whole body shaking as Yoru continued his abuse on your wet heat.
He smirked upon hearing your words, holding you tighter against him, his hands leaving marks on your hips that will surely bruise tomorrow.
“Aww, my little princess wants to cum? Go on then. Make a mess on my cock like the whore you are.” He cooed, both amusement and mockery evident on his tone. He loved seeing you like this. A literal begging mess that was ready to be picked up and pieced back together. He swears he cums almost instantly when he hears that cute, little voice of yours plead for his approval.
That was all you needed to reach your peak. It felt as if you toppled over the edge, a burst of ecstasy shooting throughout your body like electricity, sending aftershocks and waves of euphoria to ripple through your whole being. You let out an almost pornographic moan, sending the man beneath you over the edge as well.
Yoru moaned as he shot thick ropes of cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim and coating your velvety walls white. He continued to sloppily thrust, pushing his seed deeper and making sure it wasn’t dripping out. He wasn’t allowing even a single drop to go to waste.
Oh, fuck. The sole image of you swelled with his child made his eyes roll back, a shiver running down his spine at the thought of getting you pregnant. If that were to happen, he’d surely be overjoyed. But of course, he’ll always leave that choice up to you.
After that, you both stayed still, breathing heavily as you tried to calm down from your previous high. You were exhausted, sweaty, and satisfied. You couldn’t have thought of any better way to end this day.
“I love you…” You murmured, words slighty incoherent, but you’ve been with Yoru long enough for him to know exactly what you said. Your eyes slowly closed, a sigh of contentment leaving your lips while his hand smoothed over your back, occasionally tracing shapes on your skin to help you fall asleep faster.
Once Yoru was sure you were knocked out, he slowly pulled out and gently laid you down on the bed. He then got up, slipping on a fresh pair of boxers before going into the bathroom to grab a damp towel. He also grabbed clean clothes for you to change into before walking back to the bed.
He sat down on the edge, admiring your sleeping form for a while and the peaceful look you had on your face. God, you were so beautiful (he lost count of how many times he said that already), he adored every single thing about you. From your curves to your beauty marks, everything. You were the sheer image of perfection in his eyes. No one could ever compare to you. A literal supermodel could be in the same room as him, yet he’d only have his eyes on you.
Shortly after ogling over your beauty, Yoru got to work and began wiping you down. He made sure you were as clean as possible before changing you into the clean undergarments he brought. He also took off the sheets and threw them in the laundry basket, not bothering to put on new ones since he was too tired and didn’t want to disrupt your slumber.
Once he was done, he got under the covers and pulled you into his embrace, giving you one last kiss on the forehead as you snuggled closer to him. He smiled once he felt this, causing him to think that you were seeking his warmth— you were. That alone was enough to reassure Yoru, allowing him to drift off to sleep with his mind at ease.
(A/n: Alrightyy, I just needed to finish this one so I could finally start working on the requests I have! Thank you sm to all the anons that sent me requests! I love y’all 🫵🤍 Hope you guys have/had a great day‼️🎊)
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strayflowersstarsandlove · 8 months ago
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I don't mind (leeminho)
It wasn't the first time you and Minho had gotten a little carried away while making out. A quick peck on the lips while watching a movie on the couch had suddenly turned into a full on make out session that had the two of you scrambling upstairs, limbs intertwined and messy hair and and hands all over the place and really ... who could blame you?
You two had officially started dating only fairly recently but the more time you spent with him the more you wanted him all to yourself. Especially on some of his days off when the both of you felt way too lazy and too cozy to leave the house and would just hang out in your comfy sweats and drink tea while watching random shit on Netflix.
The thing is: even at his most relaxed and cozy, bare faced and untamed hair, your boyfriend looked exceptionally good. It was almost like his chill, quiet aura and casual look made him even more attractive in your eyes, like he was just there, existing in hot.
This time around there was something just so irresistible about his dark, fluffy and slightly messy hair and tired eyes and the way he had been repeatedly stroking your arm and the outline of your hip while you were staring at the screen, that it had all just made you want him so bad.
So there you were, straddling his lap as he sits on the edge of his bed, hands now firmly grabbing your bum, now moving your tangled hair away from your face as he hungrily kissed you and you tipped your head back is if to give him easier access and control, feeling your insides getting progressively warmer and tinglier with each and every of his moves.
You roll your hips gently, eliciting a low rumble in his throat as he reluctantly stops kissing you, wild eyes and short breath fanning your face as he slips his fingers past the hem of your shirt and starts to roll the fabric upwards, signaling his intention in taking it off of you. And that's when you freeze on the spot.
Your heart dropping to the base of your stomach, the very same arms you had wrapped around his neck now falling limp at your sides, your face turning into a frown.
"Whats wrong?", Minho asks, his hands stopping just short of your bellybutton, releasing your shirt that falls back down your sides with the motion. "I - I uh..." your breath catches in your throat a little and you stumble on your words, unable to meet his soft but intent gaze that searches your face for answers, "I - ugh", you sigh loudly and roll your eyes with frustration at your own self, "I have really ugly scars on my chest", you confess, mentally preparing for the same old speech you rehearsed so many times over in your head cause you knew the moment would eventually come.
For as much as you could always tell when he was feeling a little horny by the way he would smirk at you and tease you nonstop, Minho had never pressured you into anything, he really just initiated things and then was always trying to read your face and see how you'd react to his touch.
The more you seemed comfortable, eager even, to have him merely giving you that sort of attention, the more confident he grew and tried to test how far along you'd go. And truly, if it wasn't for how insecure your scars made you, you would have given him full permission to see you half naked ages ago.
Minho blinks at you, tilting his head to the side, slightly opening his mouth in that cute v shape as he looks at you confusedly, "I had a boob job okay? Back when I was 17. It was actually a breast reduction cause I had almost double d's and they were very uncomfortable and were causing me back problems and frequent chest pain and my rib cage was suffering and-" you stop rambling, catching your breath for a bit, still looking down at your lap as you further confess your troubles after a brief second.
"I don't regret it one bit. The best decision I made so far, really. But even though it's been years the scars never properly faded. The one on the left side is still a bit raised and rough to the touch and it's just... It's just - they look so bad".
The room falls quiet for what feels like an eternity when you know it's probably a few seconds, but at least now that you said it all you feel a little lighter, a little more confident as you slowly lift your eyes up to Minho who's still looking at you. "I don't care" he deadpans, his tone not even harsh just very... Indifferent? "I literally do not care, at all. I have a scar too, actually".
You barely have any time to register what's happening before he takes off his own shirt, revealing his toned chest, his pectorals prominent and his visible but softer upper abs which do show a darker patch of skin at the edges of a scar, "had to have surgery when I was a kid. I hate it. I don't want to talk about it. Never fully faded and never will but... It is what it is", he shrugs, his eyes quickly returning to your bewildered ones as you scan his beautiful chest.
"I think you look great", you breathe out, a genuinely fond smile creeping up your lips. You almost cannot believe he just exposed himself like that, only to make you feel better about your own scars.
Minho smiles back at you and sucks on his teeth, "thank you", his arms circle your waist and his hands rest on your lower back, bringing you a little closer to him, "you don't need to do this, though. You can take off your shirt or you can keep it on, either way I don't mind. I felt your tits before, I know they're great anyway".
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newlynova · 10 months ago
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MDNI. you were sent to copenhagen to learn from the best pastry chef. little did you know that he was willing to teach you lessons beyond the realm of baking. 1.1k. cw female masturbation, power imbalance
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the sweet aroma of vanilla bean and molasses enveloped you as you tugged the blanket higher upon your body, the warmth and comfort of the soft bed soothing the knots and aches of your muscles.
you had been working nonstop since you're arrival to copenhagen— your working days had consisted of fourteen hours on your feet in the kitchen of your mentor while the rest of your hours were spent nonstop reading and researching various recipes. you had been sent to copenhagen by your boss to learn from his former co-worker and close friend. 
you had been overjoyed, ecstatic even, to learn and work hands-on with such an amazing chef. yet upon your arrival, your excitement had been quickly replaced with dread— not for baking, no. but for the chef himself.
he was closer to you in age than you had expected— a handsome fellow with wavy blonde hair and various tattoos decorating his arms. he was quiet and dedicated yet very assertive in the kitchen. his tone had been dominant and blunt since he began his lessons with you, unable to hold his tongue while providing clear yet merciless feedback on your baking. he never yelled at you, though, refraining from doing so out of respect for your person, an action you rarely saw in your profession.
life after work had not been much better since you had been forced to stay with him— the rate of hotels and local bed n' breakfasts having been far too high for you to able to afford both a flight ticket and hotel arrangement for your trip. luckily, he had offered you his bedroom, allowing some divide between your personal life and his own.
and, as you lay there in your temporary boss's bed that night, your mind began to wander against better judgment. it had been far too long since you had any relief, far too long since you had felt an ounce of euphoria. hours upon hours of working had taken a toll on you, you thought as your hands drifted beneath the fabric of your large pajama shirt, you deserved this.
without another thought, your hands began to tweak your pebbled nipples, tugging and pinching at the sensitive buds as heat pooled at the base of your cunt. you rolled your head to the side, cheek pressed flat into your chef luca's pillow in a poor attempt to muffle your moans. one hand began to drift down, trailing lightly over the length of your stomach before slipping under the covers of your pajama shorts. your mind drifted to the sleeping chef on the other side of the wall.
you thought of his strong and tattooed arms. the sight of his tattoo sleeves had been an object of your desire, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as the idea of tracing the outline of the illustrations with your tongue flashed through your mind. your mind then fixated on his large hands— those long and girthy fingers making your cunt flutter around emptiness. you pondered on how they would feel buried deep into your cunt, if they were as skilled with toying with a woman's pussy as they were crafting orgasm-inducing baked goods.
the light of the bedroom flickered on as your fingers slipped into your wet slit, your walls clenching around your far-too-small index and middle fingers as the bright warm light blinded you. your cheeks grew hot as you made eye contact with chef luca, your mouth dry and muscles stiff. 
at that moment you realized how inappropriate your actions were— here you were stuffing your cunt full at the idea of sleeping with your boss while lying in his bed. you were almost positive that he was going to kick you out at this point. you wouldn't blame him either— you much rather have a pervert sleep on the streets than sleep just a few mere feet away from you.
"i— luca— i can explain." you rushed out, retracting your hand from the depths of your walls not quickly enough. you couldn't help the rush of heat to your cheeks nor the clench of your cunt at the sight of his relaxed posture. wait, relaxed? why was he so relaxed?
"you look like you've seen a ghost, love," luca smirked, the thickness of his british accent ever present. he crossed his arms over his chest, biceps flexing through the thin grey shirt he had donned. with his legs crossed at the ankles and his body leaning against the door frame, he continued to taunt you with a knowing look in his eyes. 
"don't stop on my account, pretty girl," he readjusted the grip on his arms, your eyes shamelessly drifting down to the tent growing in his plaid pajama pants. "i thought i had heard a noise and figured i'd check on you— glad i did now," he stated.
"have i been working you too hard, darling? body too sore and in need of relief that you felt the need to touch yourself," he raised a questioning eyebrow. "in my bed?"
you were too stunned to speak, your mind going blank as you processed the situation. you couldn't help but get wetter at the prospect of your boss finding amusement in your situation.
"pull the blankets down." luca ordered sternly, your hands moving quickly to follow his instructions. your body was performing on autopilot, all sense of self-esteem having gone out the window. "remove your shirt." he then instructed.
the cold air nipped at your chest, your nipples hardening even further under the weight of his gaze and the frosty atmosphere. "what were you thinking about while you touched yourself, hm?" luca questioned as he pushed his body off the door frame. his steps were slow and calculated, the bed dipping beneath his weight as he crawled into the bed space in front of you. "were you imagining this? imagining me walking in— catching you?" he taunted, fingertips brushing over the bare skin of your ankle. 
within the span of a second, luca's fingertips had wrapped around the width of your ankle, tugging your body close to him and pinning you beneath his weight. he had situated his body between your legs, eyes fixed on you like a predator. any words had been lost to you, not that you would be able to find the right words to say anyway. like always, luca had left you speechless.
"tell me, pretty girl," luca's body hovered above you, hands pinned to the bed by either side of your head while he trapped you between his legs. his eyes grazed over your bare chest, drinking in the delectable sight of your breasts rising and falling with each heavy breath. 
"do you want me to teach you another lesson?" he asked, one of his hands shifting to cup the underside of your breast. he squeezed at the plump flesh, expertly kneading at the fat of your breast like it was made of dough.
"yes, chef."
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slashersidewhore · 2 years ago
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Thomas Hewitt! Hurting his S/O
Thomas Hewitt x F!Reader
Warnings: mentions of murder, violence, blood, use of the word “bitch”, hurt/comfort, self loathing, minor angst
Could also be gn!reader, only two gendered terms are bitch and missy
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You sat nursing a bloody rag, leaning against the bathroom wall, knees up to your chest as the silence of the house was more suffocating then the usual ruckus. The swell on the back of your head was concerning, although surprisingly it wasn’t the main focus of your thoughts. Hand reaching up to poke the most likely bruising bump, your fingertips grazed along the wound, a small hiss leaving your lips at the contact. You’d probably have to ice it before the pain got worse, maybe you could Luda Mae to assist.
Luda Mae, you’d have had someone else to help you if things didn’t go tits up about 15 minutes ago. It wasn’t unusual for the Hewitt mansion to be lively, especially when Hoyt was around, stirring the pot. Mind whirring at the remembrance, you sunk further into the tiled floor. Nose tucking into the crux of your knees, you sniffle pathetically, rubbing snot on the fabric of your jeans. Everything was going horribly, and it all started with one word.
“Bitch”. The house was silent, everyone pausing their arguments with heavy breathing and strained eyes, faces hot and throats dry. Luda Mae was behind Monty in the corner, hands clasped at the back of his wheelchair the minute the word left Hoyt’s mouth. The sheriff didn’t pay mind to the eyes drilling into the side of his head, far too focused on the woman standing before him.
A victim had nearly escaped, Monty nearly blew his head off with his own shotgun, Luda Mae was pushed by said victim and landed poorly on her ankle, and you just happened to walk down stairs the minute the kettle began to hiss. Hoyt was like a feral animal, snarling at his family members, spitting his words so hard it looked at if the vein in his neck would burst. Then he directed his anger towards Thomas, the sheriffs face bright red with rage as he fired nonstop insults to his nephew. The larger, masked man, although sturdy and much stronger, was very clearly uncomfortable with the situation at hand.
You couldn’t just stand by and let you man you loved take all the heat, he hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, you could blame this entire days incidents on Hoyt himself. Something you were more than willing to do.
“That’s enough, Tommy didn’t do anything wrong. He caught the guy didn’t he?“ It was a simple statement, a rhetorical question and a raised eyebrow, but clearly wrong as the minute Hoyt sucked in a harsh breath, you knew you were next. His wide eyes were quick to snap in your direction, finger raising to point as if you were some kind of cockroach on the wall, spotted and needing to be dealt with. From your peripherals, you could faintly see Thomas tense, shoulders raised, fists clenched at his sides, although he spoke no words, nor moved his body an inch.
“Listen here missy, I don’t need an outsider like yourself running your mouth because,”
“Now stop that!” Luda Mae chastised from the other side of the room. You knew how much she considered you a part of the family, unfortunately right now you felt anything but apart of it. Hoyt didn’t bother turning his her direction, eyes still set like a vulture.
“Shut it!” His words clearly directed towards the older women caused her lips to seal angrily, a hand falling to Monty’s shoulder, “Just because you think you’re one of us, you ain’t, never will be.”
“Just some stuck up tramp who doesn’t wanna be dinner, ain’t that right sweetie?” Although you knew he wouldn’t pull anything physical in front of Thomas, knowing the man’s strength, he underestimated his nephews self control when his came to protecting you. All the masked man could now see was a threat, not his uncle, but some painted red entity getting to close to you for comfort. Fingers twitching for his chainsaw, even though it was perched down in the basement.
“Let’s just drop this.” You weren’t about to back down, but the look in Hoyt eye was anything but pleasing, in fact it made your skin crawl with goosebumps and chills. Thomas’ shoulders relaxed slightly, dark blue eyes trained on your figure. Your answer seemed to allow the atmosphere in the living room to drop considerably, that was until the sheriff decided he could get the last word in.
“That’s what I thought, bitch.” He scoffed, taking a step in your direction close enough it caused you to lean back, face scrunched in disgust. Hoyt went to turn around, most likely to leave the room all together and go do whatever the hell he does in his free time. The man however was stopped by a firm grip on the back of his shirt collar, ripping him across the carpeted floor to the adjacent wall. Air knocking from his lungs as his back slammed in the wallpaper, a hulking shadow loomed over, the hand coming back to plant itself against Hoyts exposed neck. Thomas was nearly new Hoyts out together, that was clear in the was just broad back and shoulders obstructed his uncle, chest heaving this angered breathing that was slightly muffled at the nose of his mask. Frozen in your place, a shrill yelp torn from Luda Mae that broke your trance. If you didn’t stop Thomas, he would kill kill.
Now you didn’t like Hoyt, one bit in fact. You hated the way he treated the people around him, his nephew especially. But knowing Tommy, the guilt may destroy him if he killed his own flesh and blood. Quick steps took you over the the two men, gasping at his blue Hoyts face had become, saliva sliding down his chin, eyes bulging unnaturally. It was horrific, the strength Thomas could produce with just one hand. You had to proceed with caution, Thomas may not be an animal but his emotions acted similar to a frightened caged one. Sudden movements were appreciated, you learned that early into your relationship. You took a gentle approach, placing a soft hand on his shoulder, careful and light so as he could probably feel it. Unfortunately for you he felt it all right, but in his rage filled haze he didn’t register it as a helping hand, rather someone stopping him from protecting you.
It was fast, one minute you were behind your boyfriend and the next you were careening towards the floor. Unluckily for your poor head that landed just at the right angle on the coffee table, the hard wood smacking against your skull with enough force to crack the skin and pool blood. The yelp you released was nothing short of dying as the dizzying pain set in, vision blurring as you slumped slightly towards the floor. Luda Mae was quick to gasp, rushing to your aid as Hoyts loud coughing rang throughout the living room.
Eyes panning up, unfocused but determined, your gaze locked on the lumbering man frozen a few feet away. Squinting, you could somewhat make out the way his blue eyes were as big as saucers, swimming with something you had seen many times before. Luda Mae places a gentle hand on your shoulder, the other going to the back of your head. Thomas shuffled forward an inch, looking like he was about to kneel down and assist. His heavy breathing ongoing, maybe even louder than a few seconds ago having Hoyt pinned to the opposite wall.
“Oh dear.” Luda Mae cooed, hand moving back into your field of vision. Although still struggling to see properly, the red liquid on her fingertips didn’t go unnoticed. Unfortunately, the two of you were the only ones to see it. Thomas halted his movement to help, fingers twitching at his sides began to shake like a leaf, fists clenching and unclenching. Even in this state of mind, you knew when your Tommy wasn’t doing to great, and if you were being honest, you cared more for the man’s health than your own. That’s just what loving someone does.
“Wait Tommy,” You called out, uncharacteristic slur of speech catching you off guard. Before you could even make an effort to reach out to the man, he was storming out of the front door, letting it slam back on the hinges. The noise caused your shoulders to bounce momentarily, feeling a slight burn behind your eyes as your face grew red. Leaning into Luda Mae, you I tried to ignore the throbbing as she applied some pressure, letting a few tears spill over your cheeks.
A soft knocking on the bathroom door caught you off guard, eyes snapping up and mind leaving the sudden influx of thought you’d had. It was silent for a brief minute, not knowing if you should open the door or ask who it is. Another gentle rap of the knuckles hit the wooden door, this time urging you to rise to your feet. Although there was still a slight sway to your step, you could manage walking across the tiled floor.
“I’m fine Luda Mae, just cleaning up some of the blood.” There was silence after your words, pausing wind your palm on the handle door. After the short pause, there was another knock, this time gentler, trying to convey a message through the wood alone. Eyes widening the slightest, you pulled the door inward, ignoring the loud creak from the worn hinges. Your eyes immediately landed on a sturdy chest, covered by a partial dirty apron, the button up below the same if not a murkier color. Head tilting up to meet the dark, leather mask of your favorite hidden face, finally you were looking into the gaze of the man you loved.
His dark blue eyes were clouded, heavy and clearly exhausted from the last few hours, if not also the life he’s lead. Your heart took the lead, arms wrapping around his neck to anchor your body to his much larger one. Face falling to the plush of his firm chest, you allowed yourself to relax. Warmth filled your chest as a large palm planted against the middle of your spine, the other reaching up to gently caress the back of your head.
“You didn’t mean to, ya know? Hoyt was being a real jerk,” You leaned back into his light touch, watching the slight shift in his eyes as they landed on your wound. To be honest, Thomas hasn’t felt this awful in awhile, a long while. He always felt horrible about what he had to do for his family, under Hoyts control and abusive watch. He knew it wasn’t right, against his morals and who he really was. If it wasn’t for you, he would’ve lost himself long ago. Although this, hurting you like this, maybe he’d lose you forever, “I love you Tommy.”
He glanced back into your eyes, brows furrowed and mouth in a straight line as you could see through the dark, leather mask. The rough material pressed into your forehead as he leaned forward, still holding you close. The sudo kiss allowed your eyes to comfortably close, smiling lightly as a rough, untrained voice broke the silence of the hallway.
“I love you too.”
Requests are open! Inbox or messages
I write smut, angst, and fluff
Blurbs, HC, and short stories
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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 8 months ago
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Break me.
MDNI - 18+
Warning: no protection. p in v. no plot. subordinate/superior. office. age gap. hatred. female reader.
Summary: I had a dream about this exactly but I didn’t see his face so I’m just going to pretend it’s Leon.
………………………………………………………………………………….
You had been appointed to work under THE Leon Kennedy. Ever since you wanted to join the force, you’ve heard stories about the man’s adventures and you couldn’t wait for the day you would meet him. Unfortunately for you, he only thought of you as a pest.
Every time you’d see, you would say ‘Hi’ and the occasional ‘Good morning!’ But you were only met with a scowl and sometimes even a nod. You didn’t care, however. You were far too happy to even be in the same room as him. You pardoned his scowls and his harsh and cold tones whenever he spoke to you.
He would always reply with short words. The less he talked, the better. But you couldn’t blame him, he’s been through so much and he has all these emotions pent up inside. You’d catch him all by himself during breaks. He hated the company, he felt like he HAD to be involved in a conversation. Everything felt like a burden to him. Even you.
You were young and naive. Too happy, he thought. How can someone be so cheerful when there’s all this cruelty and chaos happening? He thought you were strange. But maybe that was how kids your age were nowadays. Brain dead, he called it.
You knew that underneath all that anger, was someone so compassionate and kind. But he’s been betrayed before and he wouldn’t want to go through that pain again. So he built walls around himself, to protect his peace. Until you came around.
You two were in the same office, same room as always. He was looking over some details about missions on his files. But what were you doing? You were talking nonstop. It’s become a habit of yours. And he doesn’t know why hasn’t stopped you from talking about whatever it is you had in your mind. Work gossip? You’d spill it. What you did over the weekend? You’d tell him in full detail. Usually he would ignore it, like I said, he thought you were strange.
That is until one day, you wore this cute little outfit and it hugged your figure just right. He wasn’t one to stare but damn did you look ravenous. Your tight clothes hugged your breasts and ass like a puzzle piece. You looked like a classical Greek sculpture. Surreal and ethereal.
But he wouldn’t say that to you. Never. He was older and he was your superior. Why would he have these thoughts about the young woman he worked with?
He was sitting down on a chair and you were standing as you read over some detail out loud to him. But he wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying, god no. He was scanning your body with that outfit. He felt hot and bothered that you looked this good.
He shifted in his seat as he noticed a growing bulge in his pants. He quickly put his hand over his bulge. He may be an asshole but he had manners.
Unfortunately for him, you noticed. And once you noticed, your cheeks grew red and your eyes widened ever so slightly. You quickly continued reading but you stuttered.
Cute, he thought. He’s got you flustered. He decided to play with you. He uncovered his hand and leaned back into his chair.
You know what they say about men taking up all the space? Yeah he did that too. He spread his legs apart as he got in a comfortable position. Making his boner very noticeable from this angle. He was huge.
You don’t know how it happened. You just found yourself kneeling down between his legs. Your hands gripping on his thighs as he slowly unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock.
You took his big cock on your mouth and felt his tip reach the back of your throat. You gagged and twirled your tongue around his thick shaft and sucked him like no tomorrow. His cock fucking your mouth as you bobbed your head back and forth. You felt your pussy grow wet and began to rub your swollen clit with your hand as your other hand held on to his thigh. Tears pricked at your eyes as you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth. His hands traveled to your head and gripped on your hair as he bucked his hips into your face, wanting you to take him fully. He kept thrusting into your throat until you felt his cock twitch and squirm in your mouth. He brought his hand down your jaw and forced you to open your mouth wider as he shot his cum in you.
The saltiness of his cum dripping down your throat as he pulled out from your mouth and forced your jaw to close. He looked down at you and spoke with his deep voice.
“Swallow.”
He commanded. You nodded and swallowed his cum.
As you stood up, you felt your thighs rub against each other as you grew wet from sucking his cock. You slowly pulled down your pants with your panties and got on his lap. You held on to his shoulders as he wrapped his big calloused hands on your waist. You leveled myself on top of his hardened length and slowly sank in. As you took him slowly, he threw his head back and closed his eyes tightly shut as he tried to suppress a groan of pleasure.
“Fuck y/n… you feel so good,” He mumbled against your ear.
Growing desperate, he harshly pulled you down so you could take his cock inside. He stretched you out completely and you moaned in reaction. He breathed out shakily as you began to move against him in a circular motion. Feeling his shaft inside you drove you wild. You brought your head to the crook of his neck and bit down to muffle any moans of pleasure. He grew desperate and began to lift you up and down on his cock. The sounds of your skin clashing against each other echoing through his office as you felt tears prick at your eyes. Pleasure washing over you as you felt his hand travel down to your bud and used his rough thumb to rub your swollen clit. You moaned his name as you became a hot mess.
“Leon,”
You felt your stomach tie up in knots as your walls began to clench around his thick manhood.
“I’m going to cum-“
You choked out through moans and whimpers and he only quickened his pace, driving you insane with his touch. No matter how much he hated you, he definitely knew how to prove it by fucking you so rough. Through one last thrust against your pussy, you came hard on his cock and your body spasmed. He kept thrusting in you, lifting you up and down through your high as you felt his cock twitch inside you. He grunted and he gripped on your sides as he pulled you down to the base of his cock and cummed inside you. His hot juices spurting inside you, hitting your deepest lengths. He pulled you to his chest as you rode his cock after he came, making sure you milked him of every last drop. You both remained there for a moment, panting and catching your breath after your intimate session. He pulled you away and stared into your eyes as you barely had the energy to move. He lifted you up and pulled out you. Once he pulled out, cum began to drip down the sides of your inner thighs to his chair. He used his index finger to pick up the cum and stuff it right back inside your pussy with no warning, earning a soft moan from you as you felt his long finger inside you. He pulled his finger away and gently lifted you off of him. You leaned on his desk for support as he began to clean you and his chair. He pulled his boxers up and put on his pants as he picked up your underwear from the floor and gently dressed you up. His hands working so lightly as if he was scared of breaking you.
And you would let him break you again.
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justabratsworld · 7 months ago
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Dear Darling
Ugh, another night of dealing with absolute morons. 
The sun started to rise to stir the ones who were deep in their slumber. The early morning air bites at (y/n)'s skin as she made her way home from her shift at the bar. It seemed like she has been working nonstop lately. No matter how many times she requested more time off or less hours her boss just kept adding hours to her schedule. Not that she should be complaining, she did get a nice raise to her paycheck and well, the tips she gets throughout the night sure doesn't hurt her pockets. Besides, she'd rather be there than at home where her safe place started become hell. With the money she was saving (y/n) should be able to move to a different city. If she was smart enough and saved a little bit more money she could even move into a more secured building where you needed a residential identification or a guest pass to go past the lobby. She was starting to become paranoid with everything and everyone. No matter what it was, whether it was just a cup that was moved slightly or a misplaced spice she used the night prior her brain automatically jumped to "intruder". Once there was even a jacket that was left on her couch that she KNEW didn’t belong to her or anyone she knew. Only, once she finally convinced her friend to come over to see that (y/n) wasn’t going crazy due to stress, the jacket was gone. As if it was never there in the first place. Soon after that incident when (y/n) was out running errands or coming home from work if someone kept looking at her or what going in the same direction too long for her liking she automatically thought they had to be her stalker. All because of those stupid letters. Before they started appearing on her nightstand every morning her life was well...not perfect per se but definitely much better than what it is now.
Entering her humble apartment (y/n) made her way to the bathroom to wash last night off of her, the amount of patrons who felt the need to touch her made her feel dirty. Maybe it was the feeling of hot water cascading down her skin that made her sit in the shower for far longer than what was necessary, or maybe it was her subconsciously trying to avoid the bedroom. The room that was once her safe haven. The one place that once was able  to make her thoughts calm down, now it was the source of her uneasy head. No matter what she couldn’t figure out who was tormenting her like this  No one was taking her concerns seriously, not without having proof. (Y/n) did try to set up cameras. Specifically one at her front door, balcony door, and in her bedroom, but when she went to look at the footage of the times she wasn’t at home or sleeping everything was deleted and she wasn’t able to recover any of it. The memory of the camera that was installed in her bedroom sitting on her kitchen table with a note that read “nice try dear:) you have to be more clever than that to catch a glimpse of me ;)”. 
If only dear (y/n) was this observent before. If she was this aware of her surroundings and alert when she was out and about she wouldn't be dealing with this. If she was as vigilant before she would have noticed the man who was constantly staring her at the club she worked at. Surely she would’ve realized that the original owner seemed to vanish and the new one had more of an interest of her. So much so he kept scheduling her to work longer and more hours. What a shame she didn’t even realize that the one person who was making her life miserable was so so close. Dear sweet (y/n), she was never truly safe. 
'How silly of me to think he would skip a day'
Grabbing the envelope off of my nightstand, taking note of the smell radiating off of it. The thought of the sender spritzing his cologne on it makes my stomach uneasy. Do I really want to open this? I already know that if I do read it all its going to do is add on to my the already growing paranoia. After staring at the red seal I decided to go against my better judgment I slowly open the bane of my existence.      
                 My dearest love, 
Oh how I yearn to feel the sensation of your skin, to hear your siren voice call out to me, to hold you close to me as I whisper sweet nothing into your ear, to have you shake with pure pleasure. Fret not my darling, for soon I will come and rescue you from the nightmare you live in. However, I ask of you to not judge me for my appearance for my heart is much purer than what shows. You will have to worry or want for nothing once you're in my arms. I will love you until my dying breath. My dear sweet sweet (y/n), be ready. For once I have you in my grasp I fear I will not be able to let you go. Knowing your silly little head my go into panic just know that I have eyes and ears everywhere. I am patient and know that I wouldn't harm you in any way, but I can't say that your friends or family will be safe if you were to do anything stupid. I know my baby is smart. I know you won't do something you'll come to regret. 
        See you soon dear. 
Shit. I knew I shouldn't have read that stupid letter-well if I didn't I wouldn't have known that he apparently plans on taking kidnapping me. Shit. I have to call the cops. I have to tell someone but who would even believe me. The police didn't even care when I reported someone breaking in and leaving these letters. If anything they're probably in cahoots with my fucking stalker. I mean, how else would he have known I reported him. Just thinking of the underling threat he left brings a sense of dread. Maybe if I leave town he can't get me? How am I suppose to do that undetected though. He obviously knows my work schedule so me not showing up tonight will surely tip him off that I left. Shit. What did I do to deserve this? Who's attention did I attract? 
Glancing at the alarm clock I take a deep breath and head towards my medicine cabinet. I need to take something to let me sleep so I can go into work tonight. The letter never states when he's coming but there's no point fighting or hiding. Maybe if I just act like I never read that letter I can pretend that my life is normal. Besides, I may have more time to figure out what I'm going to do before the inevitable happens. Popping a few melatonin gummies I made my way to my bed. Weird, those tasted different than what they normally do. A lot less chewier too...maybe I'm overthinking it. I do need some sleep. After last night and that weird ass letter I deserve some shut eye before going through this all over again tomorrow morning.
-
Well damn, my head feels fuzzy. What time is it? It's dark...did my alarm not go off? I know I have it set? Why do my blankets feel different....this bed feels different too...oh well there goes my vision-
"Baby girl, it's time to wake up. You've been asleep for too long. Travis! How much chloral hydrate did you put in those gummies of hers? She knocked the fuck out." Feeling a hand rubbing my cheek a rush of adrenaline goes through me as I try to sit up. What the actual- 
"Breathe baby, breathe. You're okay. It's okay, here focus on me. Yeah? Atta girl. Keep your eyes on me. That's my girl, now now I know you're probably wondering what going on, but I did tell you I was going to pick you up and take you home. Now I'm not going to get into details and show you around your new home quite yet since you're probably still a little groggy but don't worry. Once you're awake and ready I'll tell you everything you need to know and introduce you to your new family. God, I waited too long to hold you." Why can't I move? I keep trying to say something and yet I can't. Fuck I'm so tired, why does it feel like my body isn't connected to my brain? 
"It's rude to ignore your husband-sorry soon to he husband-when he's talking to you baby. I know you're wondering what's going on and but you're obviously still tired. So lets go back to sleep, yeah? Don't be difficult babe, I'd rather not have to drug you again, I don't like seeing you like that" 
No no no no no I don't...want to...go...back....to...sleep.
Dear darling,
When you awake you might be confused and afraid. Don’t worry, I’ll be back shortly. I have some things to take care of. There's water and some medicine on the kitchen island for you. Be a good girl.
Love you lots, 
Adonis M. Corleone
Oh baby girl, just having you asleep beside me is pure bliss. I’m sorry I had to drug you, it was the only way to get you home safe without having to worry about you seeing where you were going. You are the light I need in my life. With all the blood on my hands, all the crimes I have committed, everything has been for you. After watching and waiting for years I finally have you in my arms. If you try to leave I’ll kill anyone in the way. My (y/n), you will be the perfect wife. The perfect mother. The perfect piece to our family. After all, behind every successful man is a beautiful woman taking care of him. Once I get your family out of the way, we will be truly happy. I’m so proud of you for not running away from me. You proved to me that not only are you strong but smart as well. You knew better than to disobey me and for that I won’t necessarily kill your family. I’ll just make sure they know not to look for you.
BREAKING NEWS: Missing 23 year old women. Series of letters found. 
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strawberryya · 1 year ago
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how to befriend a vampire
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Yeosang x reader
synopsis: what could be better when you’re bored of life in every way than a hot vampire fuck buddy?
word count: 2k
genre/contains: smut, vampire au, vampire!yeosang, gn!reader, strangers to lovers/fwb, unprotected sex, general tw for vampirism and being bitten (the word blood is not used but heavily implied), stalker-ish behavior from both individuals, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms
rating: 18+
a/n: first arousal august fic is here! I hope everyone likes it and looks forward to the next little blurb I have ready and waiting in the drafts :>
my arousal august masterlist
original event for arousal august
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Summer was over and new classes were about to begin. Returning to your normal routine wasn’t too hard, you had done it before. Your friends were the same, your dorm was the same, although your roommates were new, and the classes all felt as usual. Nothing special was happening at all. Of course, it would’ve been nice if something were to happen, anything really. Just something that would make life this year a bit different than last year. Maybe you should drop a class and pick up something that has nothing to do with your goal, perhaps cults would be fun to study for a term or two? 
Nothing was wrong, it was just so very…boring. 
“A back-to-class party?” Not a terrible idea, you reasoned when your new roommates asked if you wanted to come along to the park that first weekend back at campus. 
It could be horrible, but at least it would mean that something would happen other than studying or watching movies with your new, and so far reasonable, roommates. It had been a while since you had been with anyone too. Maybe this party was the perfect opportunity to find someone a bit attractive to hook up with. The one from last year had ended up getting into a relationship during the summer - rather annoying, because he really wasn’t that bad in bed. 
You needed orgasms to get through the school year, and so you went to the party. Dressed up from head to toe, in clothes that hugged your ass and glitter in your hair, hoping that the outfit would be enough to gain someone’s attention. 
Your mission was… sort of successful. It did attract tons of people, some really attractive people, and some incredibly sleazy and creepy people.
You regretted coming after about two hours of nonstop socializing with other students which led absolutely nowhere. Nobody grabbed your attention, everyone fit perfectly into the little presaved folders in your head. It was so predictable, so incredibly boring. 
“Should we just give up?” You shouted to one of your new roommates. At least, you found some hope in the fact that neither one of them had ended up finding someone interesting among the large crowd that flew past one another like ants in the campus park. You weren’t completely alone in yur failure. 
“I’m ready to go, honestly,” one of your roommates agreed, while the other one had already disappeared in the crowd without acknowledging your question. 
You grabbed ahold of one another. Neither of you sober enough to be able to navigate your way home without losing one another in the night. With arms folded together, in a way only possible for two almost strangers when drunk, you two trudged away from the party and the loud bass that made your head pound. 
“I wanted to fuck someone tonight,” you groaned and fake sobbed into the chilly night air, your roommate only laughing at your unapologetic whining. “I’m not kidding, I don’t care who it is. I just really wanna be obsessed with someone! I wanna be in love! I don’t care if it’s actually love or just really great sex.”
It seemed a bit silly to say out loud, but it was the truth. You probably wouldnt have been so honest with your roommate this soon had you been sober tonight. Nevertheless, the truth was that you just wanted someone to think about, someone to crush on, someone to sleep with when the days became too boring to handle by yourself. 
You were wobbling down the cobbled streets on your way back to the dorm. Your arm was still entangled with your roommates, thoughts having moved on from your honest feelings and instead focusing on whether or not it would be possible to order fries to your dorms. 
When he bumped into your arm, or more correctly, when you stumbled into his arm as he passed, you almost fell over. Enraged at the audacity of this random guy to walk right into you, you turned back around, prepared to yell at him with all your might. But when you began shouting a loud “Hey!”, your anger soon ebbed out as the stranger turned around, revealing his perfect face in the yellow light from the streetlight above. His features were striking even in the dark. His eyes were piercing. His hair was dark and pushed back from his forehead in a light wave. Beside one of his eyes, you noticed a blushy pink birthmark, almost matching the pretty red shade of his lips. His lips… were a lot redder than any lips you had seen on a random guy before. Was he wearing lipstick? 
You had forgotten why you had yelled out to the stranger. His gorgeously handsome face distracted you completely. 
“Y/n, let’s gooo,” your roommate whined, pulling at your arm, evidently not enraptured by the pretty stranger you had bumbled into. How was that possible? You had never seen him before, never known he existed, and you were already obsessed with him. His name, his interests, his favorite place to kiss his lover, you needed to know it all. You needed to befriend him. 
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The night was mostly a blur the following day, everything except for the stranger.
For some reason, his face never left your mind. For two weeks you searched every room for him, scanned the streets as you walked down them, and took walks on the campus every shot you got. 
You never found him. He could’ve been an illusion, but you knew deep down that he wasn’t. At least looking for the mystery man in the night had given you something to think about, someone to obsess over, even if you didn’t even know his name. 
It took yet two more weeks and another walk to the convenience store to finally find that one necessary piece of information. You didn’t understand how it had taken this long to find him, it wasn’t like he was hiding. He was walking around in the park, just like the last time you had bumped into him. Dark hair falling onto the sides of his head, a long coat half open to reveal a simple black polo and jeans, almost exactly like last time. You took it all in, stopping mid-step as to not loose sight of him, the plastic bag you had bought filled with snacks and drinks for the late-night studying you had planned on doing was rustling in the wind. He had seen you too. 
He wasn’t moving either, maybe he thought you were a weirdo for simply staring at him in the dark park. 
You drew in a breath. “Hey you! What’s your name?!” You shouted across the grass. If you were going to be a weirdo, you would do it properly. 
He didn’t shout back. Far away someone shouted in the night. You looked towards the sound for half a second out of reflex, and when you looked back the stranger was gone. 
Again?? You thought and damned the universe for teasing you like this. 
“Yeosang.” 
The voice was deep and it sent chills down your back. It made you quickly turn around, finding the stranger right behind you now. He was even hotter this close. 
“Yeosang…” you whispered under your breath. He was rather tall. He gave you a small smile, white teeth flashing cold in the moonlight. Unusually pointy. “I’m y/n…”
His smile got wider. “I know”
Your mind blanked, but you needed to say something. “Let’s be friends!” You hurried to say before he could have a chance to mysteriously disappear again. His smile dropped, eyes looking at you surprised and slightly suspicious. Understandable. 
“Sure,” he said after a moment of only the wind in your ears, a smirk appearing on his face. “If a friend is all you want, I can grant you that.” 
“It’s not,” you said honestly and quickly. His smirk grew. “I want a lot more, but I only found out your name ten seconds ago. Thought I’d give you a chance to get to know me before I tried getting you into bed with me.” 
You felt feverish, the embarrassing reality of what you were telling this stranger hitting you hard.
“I know enough,” he said before his hand found the side of your face and his lips leaned in to meet yours. He tasted like aluminum for a split second but the way you could feel his toned body against yours where your coats fell open distracted you and you soon forgot about the unusual taste. 
A swishing sound made you open your eyes again, the cold from the night air in the campus park seemingly gone and replaced with much warmer air. You were inside, you were inside your own bedroom. You didn’t know how it had happened, you didn’t really know what had happened, and you didn’t know why you didn’t even care. The stranger in the night was named Yeosang, and he was kissing down your neck in your bedroom, pulling your coat off your body, and throwing it into the corner of the room. He was no ordinary person, that you had already caught onto. 
“Can I bite you?” He mumbled against your skin. 
His hands were caressing your body and your mind was buzzing with desire, but the desire didn’t clog your mind yet. You were clearminded and saying “Yes” before you could stop and think about what a bad decision it might be to agree. 
Small pecks now your throat made arousal pool in your lower abdomen. “Bite me as you fuck me,” you whispered. This made Yeosang smile against your skin, moving up to kiss you passionately once again as he pulled his own clothes off along with yours. Pushing you down on the bed as his hard cock pushed against your thigh. It would be tight, but you needed him to use you and stretch you out enough to make life interesting again. 
That, he did. Nothing was mundane or boring about his hands on your body or his tongue on your chest. He was surprisingly gentle as he began filling your hole with his erect cock, but his pace grew feral as he continued pounding into you. You were moaning and clawing at his sculpted body when he hit the right spot inside of you. When his lips let go of you, you looked at him gazing down at your bare neck, he wanted to bite you for real, it was clear he meant it, and you wanted him to as well. You shifted your neck, inviting him to do what he wished. “You look delicious,” he mumbled before he threw himself onto your neck, piercing the skin ever so slightly. You barely even felt it, but the way he suckled on your skin after the small sting felt like he was trying to mark your skin, sending goosebumps down your body when he continued licking and humming against your neck. 
You came as he pounded into you, his hands working their magic while getting to know your body. He didn’t stop until you came for a second time, whining at the overstimulation. 
He cared for your neck and cleaned you up, his movements swift and gentle as he handled you. He caressed your skin with great care, careful not to be too rough. A world’s difference from the way he had fucked you a moment ago. He didn’t force any small talk, a nice change from most other guys you had been with. He had gotten dressed and given you some of your own pajamas to put on before he was ready to leave. 
He couldn’t leave just like this, you collected all the courage you had left and began with an unsure voice. “We’re friends now, right? So you’re welcome here anytime, we could do this again…” 
“We’re friends, yeah.” He smirked and looked at you as you pulled your shirt over your head. “I’ll be here if you need me, or if you’re just… bored.” The last word he said was paired with a small wink. You chuckled nervously, he had known all along. Could he read your mind as well? Maybe you could find out next time. 
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Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕
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badbatchposts · 2 months ago
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Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 28
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Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, 18+/Explicit
Read the full fic so far on AO3
Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14 l Ch. 15 l Ch. 16 l Ch. 17 l Ch. 18 l Ch. 19 l Ch. 20 l Ch. 21 l Ch. 22 l Ch. 23 l Ch. 24 l Ch. 25 l Ch. 26 l Ch. 27
Chapter 28 summary: Dara makes a difficult decision when preparing for the Partisans to arrive at the clone base.
Extra content warnings for this chapter: Smut! Unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, jealous Crosshair, biting, breastplay, handjob, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, borderline degrading language, slight dom/sub dynamics
Dara wasn’t sure how long he had been fucking her up against the console, the locked buttons biting into the skin of her breasts, when she finally thought to ask.
“Wait—whose ship is this?” she panted out.
Crosshair answered with a particularly hard thrust and a harsh tug on her hair. “Howzer’s,” he grunted.
She rolled her eyes at him over her shoulder. “Seriously?”
He nudged the side of her face so that she was once again looking forward, watching their reflections in the darkened transparisteel of the viewport, and didn’t deign to elaborate, just nipped at her shoulder and redoubled his efforts.
Dara had spoken to Howzer for maybe five minutes earlier that day, finally getting a chance to take him aside and apologize to him personally for her deception. The clone captain had received it politely but distantly, but apparently that brief conversation had been enough for Crosshair’s jealousy to rear its head. When she had found the sniper that evening, arms crossed, leaning against the empty ship, and he had jerked his chin in the direction of the ramp, she hadn’t hesitated to follow him—both of them desperately tearing off clothes and armor before the hatch had even fully closed—but she also hadn’t realized, when he bent her over the dashboard in the cockpit, that he was looking to prove some sort of point.
She should have known. Honestly, she wasn’t completely sure whether Crosshair was actually attracted to her or just couldn’t stand the thought of someone else having her when he didn’t.
Of course, that wasn’t to say that she didn’t think he enjoyed this; he had made abundantly clear what he wanted from her, and since that first time on Xagalus she had felt his eyes on her even more than usual. And though she had to admit that she herself had been thinking about it almost nonstop, after the second time it had happened, she had resolved—again—to stay away from him.
Then she had found herself with a spare minute and with his gaze no longer burning into her, and before she knew it she was on her hands and knees on a rooftop getting absolutely railed.
And then there were all the other occasions since…
At least this time, with the privacy afforded by the ship, they could strip fully. Crosshair’s skin felt hot against hers, his well-muscled thighs pressing tightly against her ass at the summit of each thrust and his chest flush against her back, his stubble rubbing along her shoulder as he tongued every bare inch of her that he could reach. His free hand massaged at her breast, and his cock was angled perfectly, drawing her higher and higher.
Crosshair must have felt the way she was tensing and knew her climax was approaching. Dara’s eyes fluttered closed, but he yanked at her hair again and they shot back open.
“I want you to watch, cyar’ika,” Crosshair growled. “Watch yourself cum for me.” Their gazes met in the transparisteel, the intensity he aimed at her almost unbearable, and Dara couldn’t stop the orgasm from rocketing through her. Her face contorted with pleasure, and Crosshair smirked, that arrogant kriffing asshole, but she felt too good to care, every muscle in her body relaxing all at once. All she could do was pant through it as Crosshair’s brow tensed before he released inside of her with a groan and one final, hard drive of his hips.
He held her by the waist for a moment, stroking gently with both thumbs, before pulling out carefully. Dara pushed herself up and watched for a moment as he pulled his boxers back on—skin-tight black ones, she imagined GAR- or even Empire-issue, which hugged his ass so deliciously she wanted to take a bite—and settled into the pilot’s seat with a toothpick. He was sweating a little with exertion, looking extremely satisfied with himself, and he ran a hand through his hair to smooth it down. His gray locks, so closely cropped when they had first met, were growing out a little, beginning to curl chaotically around the burn scar at his temple. She liked it a little longer, selfishly wanted something to run her fingers through and pull hard like he always did to her.
It was too bad, really, that she couldn’t let this continue.
“You’re distracted,” Crosshair observed as she began to pull her own underwear and breastband back on. How it was that he always knew what she was feeling, she could never tell, and not for the first time she wondered if his genetic enhancements had something to do with his powers of observation, though even keen eyes shouldn’t have made him read her so well. She looked away, searching for wherever her pants had gotten to while they’d been frantically undressing.
She kept her voice flat, unaffected—he couldn’t think she was angry, her stronger emotions were like a beacon for him, only drawing him in further.
“This can’t happen again,” Dara declared firmly.
Finally managing to locate her trousers, she perched on the edge of the co-pilot’s chair to pull them on and glanced up to find Crosshair staring intently at her. When she met his gaze, he sneered and shrugged, indifferent.
“If you’d told me before, I would’ve drawn it out longer,” he drawled. Dara rolled her eyes and stood to begin searching for her shirt, but he stopped her by curling his long fingers around her wrist. “Give me five minutes, and we can go again.” He raised an eyebrow. “If it’s the last time.”
She scoffed. “It’ll take more than five minutes.”
Crosshair smirked and relaxed his grip ever-so-slightly, stroking along her forearm. “I’m an enhanced clone. Better stamina, better recovery… you can’t compare me to other men you’ve been with. I’ll always be better.”
Dara snorted. “You’re so full of yourself.” But she sat back down all the same, feeling tingles on her skin from his touch even after he released her. Another round tonight couldn’t hurt, she told herself. One last time.
Outside the ship, the base was quiet and calm, and she closed her eyes, savoring the companionable silence. This had gone better than she’d thought it would, perhaps proving her suspicions correct—that, whatever strange compulsion had led Crosshair to pursue her almost incessantly since they’d met, now, with his curiosity sated, he would rapidly lose interest.
For a moment, on the rooftop, she’d begun to doubt it, confused by his strange reaction to her scraped knees (hardly her first or worst sex-related injury, but Dara didn’t think he’d appreciate that bit of trivia). She’d been unconcerned until the moment she’d caught sight of him, looking so sullen he inexplicably reminded her of a wet tooka, and wasn’t that a strange image for someone she knew was so deadly, so ruthless. It was difficult to parse where that morose vulnerability had come from. Whatever it was, it was clear that he wanted—needed, maybe—to feel in control, and didn’t take any slips lightly.
She wasn’t sure if her steadfast refusal to allow him that was what kept him coming back for more, or if it was steadily driving him off. Not a rotation had gone by since the rooftop where they hadn’t managed to find themselves sequestered in some dark corner of the base, but he was more closed off since then, all growls and posturing in response to her prodding and stubbornness. They hadn’t spent much time together otherwise, one or the other of them always strolling casually off the moment they were dressed, practically radiating satisfaction.
Crosshair’s voice disrupted Dara’s reverie. “Why?”
“Hmm?” she responded. She glanced over at him lazily, trying to retrace her thoughts back to the last thing they had said, but his expression was blank as he stared out the viewport. 
“Why can’t this happen again? You can’t tell me you aren’t enjoying yourself.” The last sentence came as a seductive, self-confident purr, a tone she was now all-too-used to hearing in her ear as strong hands explored every inch of her. Crosshair met her gaze in the reflection, eyes smoldering and a familiar smirk on his lips.
Dara rolled her eyes. “That’s not it.” He raised an eyebrow, patient, waiting her out, and she sighed, resigned. “My people arrive tomorrow. There will be a lot to get done. I can’t afford to be distracted.”
He scoffed, folding his arms and turning to look at her directly. “Didn’t realize I was such a distraction.”
“You know what I mean.” Dara schooled her features, willing herself not to take the bait. This had to be done, and the less of it turned into a fight, the easier it would be to move on from.
Of course, nothing with Crosshair was easy.
“I’m not sure I do. If you ask me, it’s been good for you,” the sniper remarked. He looked her up and down, gesturing with his toothpick. “You’re less tense.”
The worst part was—he was right. She’d known, long before her breakdown on Xagalus, that she was too tightly wound, liable to snap at any moment, her life a constant stream of paranoia and risk management and death and atrocity, and none of this fixed any of that, but it sure made it easier to forget. It opened a release valve on the pressure.
“That’s not important,” she objected anyway. “I need to be focused on the mission. The cause takes priority.” It was the reason she hadn’t had even had a one-night-stand since shortly after she’d rejoined Saw, and if she hadn’t really had a repeat partner like this since before the war—well, she didn’t have the cause as an excuse, but that was her business.
This situation was rapidly deteriorating. Already, Dara could tell that Crosshair wasn’t prepared to accept that as an explanation, his expression too keen, searching for a gap in her armor where he could strike home. 
“Really? Or are you just worried your Partisans will find out you’re fucking an ex-Imperial?” he spat out, and yes, that thought had vaguely occurred to her, but he was still probing for his plan of attack, she should get dressed and get out of here before things escalated even further— “Or is it Saw?” he tried. His eyes flashed with recognition, certain he had spotted a weak point. “Is that it—you and Saw, then? Planning on going back to sleeping with your leader?”
“Oh, fuck off, Crosshair,” she exploded. At the back of her brain, a logical but entirely ineffectual voice pointed out that, yet again, she had let him goad her into a reaction, but it wasn’t nearly enough to stop her. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, since you still won’t let go of that thing with Howzer.”
He sneered. “This isn’t about Howzer,” he countered heatedly, as though they were arguing half-naked in some other man’s ship.
Dara considered him a moment, deciding on a different tactic. “How old are you?” Crosshair scoffed, beginning to roll his eyes, but she insisted, “No, I really mean it. The clones have accelerated aging, right? So how old are you?”
He crossed his arms and glared back defiantly. “Younger than Omega.”
“Dank farrik, that’s—”
“What does it matter?” he interrupted, and she would have to just tuck away her reaction to that troubling bit of information for another time.
She sighed. “What it matters is that I’ve been having sex for as long as you’ve been alive. If you’re going to bother being jealous of every person I’ve ever slept with, it’s going to be a long and frustrating battle.”
Crosshair chewed on that for a moment, and Dara wondered if, like her, he was struck by the enormity of it—that she’d accumulated a lifetime of experiences in comparison, had the luxury of living slowly, collected pleasures with meaning and without, nights remembered with fondness and some hardly remembered at all.
It didn’t matter—and he didn’t need to know—how close he was to the best she’d ever had. How much her body wanted this to continue, even while her mind insisted she was asking for trouble if it did.
Whatever Crosshair may have been thinking, it was tamped down quickly beneath a familiar veneer of snide cruelty, his suspicions confirmed. “So you are fucking Saw.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Dara huffed.
Crosshair smirked and flicked his toothpick across the cockpit. It bounced against the viewport before disappearing amid the buttons of the console. “Hmm. Didn’t think the great Saw Gerrera would make it a habit of sleeping with his subordinates.”
“I’m not his subordinate,” she snapped.
“Then what are you to him?” He was regarding her seriously now, and she realized that, beneath the smug, irritating prodding, the question was genuine. It was an impressive interrogation, one she could hardly believe she had fallen for, but as usual, he’d played her emotions like an expert.
Dara sighed again, feeling herself giving in. “Saw and I have been friends a long time.” It was the truth, though a complicated one, the strands of their shared history far too difficult to untangle here, now.
Crosshair only hummed mockingly. “Hmm. Is that what you call it?”
She stood, and closed the short distance to the pilot’s seat to tower over him. “Listen. I’m only going to say this once, and then you’d better back off. Saw and I slept together twice, and neither time was a good idea.” And what a bad idea it was, both times mired in grief and a quiet desperation to acknowledge they were still alive, the silence afterward a durasteel wall between them. She shook her head to free herself of the memories. “It won’t be happening again, and it has nothing to do with this.”
His piercing amber gaze held hers a moment, but Dara struggled to read its significance.  
“I know it won’t,” he crowed quietly. He placed his hands on either side of her waist and stroked his thumbs over her hip bones, a smug expression coming over his features. “Not now that you’ve had me.”
Crosshair’s fingertips moved slowly upward to tug her breast band over her head, his eyes drinking her in as her breasts tumbled free. It occurred to her that this must be the most they’d ever actually seen of each other, the soft lights of the cockpit exposing what had been, in their earlier encounters, partly hidden in shadow or beneath clothing hastily tugged aside. She let her own fingers stroke lightly over his torso, tracing the lines of his tattoos—a skull over an Aurebesh 99 on his left pec, a target on his right, an impressive likeness of his rifle along the crease of one hip, a two-headed snake slithering across his ribs—and felt the way his muscles twitched at her touch. It was unfair, really, how perfect his long, lean body was, how tempting it was to follow the salt and pepper trail of hair down his abdomen to where his cock was already hardening at her attentions, tenting the fabric of his boxers.
But she was giving into temptation already, wasn’t she, and so Dara slid her hand beneath his waistband and took his length firmly in hand. Crosshair groaned and squeezed her breast, pulling her closer with his other hand at the small of her back. He rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he enclosed the other in his hot mouth, sucking lightly at first, then harder when Dara began to stroke him steadily. She sighed in contentment, the feeling of velvety-soft skin against her palm and his tongue working her nipple to a peak sending waves of arousal to her core. Crosshair slowly slid his hand up along her spine until it rested between her shoulder blades, pressing her even tighter against him, as though he couldn’t taste enough of her, needed more and more even as Dara straddled him in the pilot’s seat.
When Crosshair finally released her nipple to take a sharp, gasping breath she gripped his shoulder, pressing him back against the headrest, and captured his lips against hers. Their tongues battled ferociously for a moment until Dara picked up the pace at which she was pumping his cock, swiping her thumb against the sensitive head and using the pre-cum she collected to torment him further. Crosshair broke away from the kiss with a groan.
“You’ll be the death of me, burk’yc,” he murmured, resting a hand against her cheek. The gesture was oddly affectionate, and Dara found she couldn’t hold his gaze.
“Should I stop?” she teased. She trailed her lips down his jaw, his neck, his collarbone, sucking and nipping as she felt the urge, greedily tasting the salt of his skin. Crosshair didn’t reply for a long moment, mesmerized as she tongued the lines of his tattoos and scars then sank onto her knees in front of the pilot’s seat. She paused at the end of a long lick over the Firepuncher at his hip and toyed with the edge of his waistband, looking up at him coyly.
Dara could tell he was close to losing control, jaw clenched and hands curling into fists at his side, eyes ravenous and predatory like a starving nexu, but he quickly recovered his composure, disguising his insatiable need under an insufferable smirk.
Crosshair settled a possessive hand at the back of her head. “You don’t want to stop. Go ahead, mesh’la—take what you want.”
She felt a twinge of annoyance at how he still insisted on pretending like he was the one in charge even as she practically had him eating out of the palm of her hand, but it was competing with a purring part of her that agreed wholeheartedly, that felt the gentle pressure of his long fingers petting through her hair and wanted to lean into it. That wanted to give in.
And if it was going to be the last time, well, she might as well enjoy herself.
With one smooth motion, Dara slid Crosshair’s boxers down his slender legs, eyeing his erection hungrily as it bounced back against his stomach. His cock was as beautiful as he was, really—also incredibly unfair, he had a big enough ego already—all golden-brown skin and a dark head, long and a little thin like the rest of him, curved just fucking perfectly like it was designed to make her see stars. As eager as she felt, she went slowly, sucking marks along the inside of his thigh, tonguing the crease of his hip, then just breathing gently on his cockhead as she made her way to the opposite side to do it all again.
Crosshair tightened his grip in her hair a little in warning. “Don’t tease, brat,” he growled.
Dara grinned up at him mischievously. “But you said I could take what I want,” she protested, her tone all faux innocence, and before he could snarl at her she was already mouthing at his shaft, kitten licking her way to the head where she swirled her tongue around the sensitive glans and swallowed him down. It had been a long time before Crosshair, but she had always been kriffing good at this, so she relaxed her throat easily and took him far enough that she could press her nose into the coarse gray hairs at the base.
“Karking hell,” he hissed through gritted teeth. She could feel him twitch at the back of her throat and held him there a moment before she eased up a little, breathing deeply through her nose.
Maybe she would be the death of him.
She dedicated herself to putting on a bit of a show, alternating bobbing up and down while gently tonguing the thick vein at the bottom of his cock, only to then suck hard, or take him down to the root, or press the head to the inside of her cheek so he could see it protrude a little. Whenever she looked up, he was watching, nearly unblinking, unwilling to tear his eyes away from the sight.
He was breathing hard, chest heaving, unable to hold back his groans. “Fuck. Look so good… on your knees for me…”
Dara hummed around him, and he tightened his grip in her hair, maybe resisting the urge to make her take him deeper, faster. She liked this, liked the taste and feel of him on her tongue, liked seeing him nearly out of his mind with pleasure. His eyes finally drifted shut, and his head tilted back for a moment before he eased her off of him.
“Ride me,” Crosshair rasped, demanding, and his tone brooked no disagreement. She considered disagreeing anyway, just for the sake of it, to push him, make him finally lose control—but then, she did want to ride him.
Still, “Say please,” she goaded, even as she shed her pants and underwear and straddled him once again, hovering her wet pussy over his rock-hard length.
Crosshair seized her by the hips hard enough to bruise, eyes glinting dangerously. “You don’t want me to say please. You want me to split you in fucking half. Ride. Me.”
Then Dara was choking out a cry as he sank into her. When he withdrew a little, she chased after him, craving the feeling of him inside of her, unable to resist her own need any longer. She held tight to his shoulders for stability and he let her set the pace for a while, watching from under heavy lids as she fucked herself on his cock.
So perfect, it was so perfect the way his cockhead stroked against the sensitive spot inside her, making her feel impossibly full, the way the friction against her clitoris when she grinded down against him sent pleasure tingling through her veins. Her thighs burned with effort as she rose and fell against him, helped only by his hands against her hip and ass guiding her up and down, but it was easy to ignore as she focused entirely on the promise of ecstasy that awaited her.
Crosshair was always uncharacteristically talkative during sex, and now was no different, though she wasn’t sure he even knew what he was murmuring. “That’s it, meshla. So good. Getting so close now, keep going. Can’t decide which I like better, your mouth or your cunt, they both feel so kriffing good for me. But you don’t need me to decide, do you? You’re happy with any way you get to take my cock.”
Dara cried out, her orgasm finally spilling over her, though she was careful not to let her cries and moans transform into words, fearful they would say too much, the voice in her head echoing, it’s true, it’s true, she wanted him, would take whatever he gave her, and now she had him and it felt too good and this couldn’t be the last time, she didn’t want it to be the last time.
Unable to keep moving through the force of her orgasm, Dara had half-collapsed onto Crosshair, who was thrusting slowly, almost gently, while she put herself back together.
She kissed the skin of his shoulder lazily where she had landed, panting, “I’m— I’m done, you can go ahead and—”
“No,” Crosshair interrupted, speeding up his pace only marginally. “You’re going to give me another one.”
Dara furrowed her brow into his shoulder. She had blown him to within an inch of his life earlier—he had to be close enough, and she wasn’t sure why he was holding out now. “What? You haven’t had enough already?” she managed to snark through her post-orgasmic daze.
Crosshair nosed his way down to her mouth and captured it with his, teasing her with his tongue and sucking on her bottom lip. “I could make you cum every morning, noon, and night for a tenday straight and it wouldn’t be enough,” he growled.
She shivered, his words sending electricity straight to her core, riling her up all over again, but before she could even think to reply he was back to thrusting hard, rough and demanding, marking all over her neck and breasts with lips and teeth. His strong hands at her waist helped her keep bouncing on his cock despite it feeling like all the strength had fled from her limbs, and soon she could already feel another climax barreling toward her like a railspeeder.
By the looks of it, Crosshair wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer either, his furrowed brow and nails biting into her skin betraying how close he was, and all she wanted was to feel his warm spend leaking out of her again. He gripped her jaw and held her pressed tightly to his chest, pistoning up into her relentlessly, forcing her eyes to meet his.  
“Say my name. Tell me who’s making you feel like this.”
And Dara no longer had the wherewithal or even desire to resist, crying out, “Crosshair!” as bliss, sweet bliss, invaded every one of her senses. She was just barely aware of him burying his face in her neck, releasing his own moans, and she felt the telltale twitch of his cock as he came inside her.
It took her a few moments to come back to awareness enough to realize she was shaking. Crosshair still held her tightly, his arms wrapped around her waist and hands rubbing soothing circles against her back. She breathed deeply, trying to regain control of her body, and moved to extricate herself.
“Hold still. Too sensitive. Just—wait a minute,” Crosshair murmured. Dara took pity on him and stopped wiggling. He kept his forehead resting against her shoulder, just breathing for a long moment. It was warm and comfortable, resting in his lap while he softened inside of her, and she toyed unthinkingly with a stray curl at the crown of his head and let herself relax. Kriff, that was amazing. It was always amazing.
She didn’t want to stop.
If she didn’t stop now, she might never be able to.
“You good yet?” Dara asked. When Crosshair finally nodded, she slipped off of him, quickly pulling on her underwear and trousers before too much of his cum could leak out onto her thighs. They dressed in silence, though it took Crosshair much longer to retrieve the scattered pieces of his armor and fit them back into place. Dara stood uncertainly when she had finished, feeling like she should say something, but not sure what.
Crosshair glanced up at her from where he was still working on securing his vambraces. His eyes were hard, his expression cold. “Go on. You got what you wanted.”
Dara grumbled in frustration. “I thought we both did.” Sure, now he was angry, and she would be able to make sense of that, if he hadn’t also gone from indifferent to jealous to smug to disdainful to fucking her brains out all in the past forty minutes.
He didn’t reply, just looked away dismissively.
Rubbing her eyes where she could already feel the tension coming back, Dara made her way to the hatch, pressing the button to lower the ramp before turning to him one final time. “Listen… really, it’s been…” She sighed. “Just, know that— This isn’t about you.”
Crosshair waited long enough after she left to be sure she was too far to hear the clatter before he chucked his helmet against his reflection in the darkened transparisteel of the viewport.
Read next chapter
Tag list: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon @somewhere-on-kamino @morerandombullshit @zahmaddog @flaming-dumpster
Thanks again to @cloneflo99 for the amazing banner!!!
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llyn1xx · 6 months ago
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Top Best
Academic Rival!Scaramouche x Reader
Sypnosis: You and Scaramouche have been competing against each other in school. Often boasting higher scores or achievements to make the other jealous. However, lately, you couldn't help but fall for your one and only rival.
Genre/Tags: Academic rivals, highschool AU, modern, romance, fluff, cussing, nicknames, Scaramouche might be ooc, quick progression (i think)
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You pushed your way past the crowd to get to the bulletin board in the halls. The rankings for this quarter had just been posted. You skimmed through the long lists to find your grade and searched for your name and..
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"Holy shit," you breathed out in excitement as you widely stared at your name listed as #1, right above Scaramouche, the percentages were extremely close, but you still did it! You beat him.
You looked around to find the very man you had outdone, scanning for any spec of purple hair. You eventually see him make his way through the bulletin, doing the exact same thing you had done just a second ago. You observed how his eyes slightly widened as he saw the results.
You moved closer to him with a smug look on your face, preparing to boast your latest achievement.
"told 'you I'd beat you to it next time," You remarked with a mischievous grin on your face.
"Oh please," Scaramouche scoffed. "You only beat me by .67%, was that really the best you could do?"
"That .67% proves that I'm way better than you!" You argued. This was such a huge boost to your ego, and you weren't gonna let it go so easily.
"I beat you by over 1% last time. You just got lucky, (Name)." Scaramouche simply stated before gently flicking your forehead. Before you even got the chance to protest, he walked away, leaving you stunned and speechless.
You felt your face getting a bit hot too—it was just something about the way he said your name, and the way he looked at you, and the way he oh so caringly flicked your forhead despite acting all annoye- You abruptly cut your own thoughts off. You were getting carried away. You can't be falling for him. You hated him. He gets on your nerves all the damn time, yet why? Why does your stomach flip at every interaction with him? Why do you look forward to going to school every day just to see him and bicker nonstop with him once again? Why does he cross your mind even when you don't want him to? You couldn't take this. You just decided not to think about it. This is gonna pass anyways, right?
. . .
The next day, right after school ended, you found yourself in the library studying for your next test. You were more determined than ever, and you wouldn't allow your rank to drop again.
"Hm, working hard, I see." A familiar voice cooed from behind you. You didn't even have to turn back to look at the source. You knew that voice far too well.
"Fuck off, Scaramouche." These words rolled off your tongue like second nature. You felt the man in question slowly sit next to you with the same book you have.
"Don't you want to be study buddies?" Scaramouche asked, sarcasm floating in the air as he spoke. "That's the last thing I'd want to do." You sounded firm and serious, although you really wouldn't mind studying with him, and Scaramouche himself knew this. He stayed next to you as you expected, and he started prepping his materials to study.
"Whatever you say, princess." You were taken aback by the nickname that so effortlessly left his mouth. It took everything in you to maintain your composure, but you couldn't stop the familiar heat that crept up to your face.
"Are you blushing?" Scaramouche teased, obviously and annoyingly amused by your reaction. You wanted to hit him right then and there and storm off, but you couldn't handle more embarrassment than you're already feeling. "You're imagining things." You replied after what felt like eternity.
"Didn't know you had a thing for endearing nicknames, (Name)." You were ready to explode at this point due to embarrassment, anger, and fluster. "I swear I'm gonna murder you." You spouted, your face redder than ever.
"Alright fine, I'll cut it out, princess." Again with that goddamn forsaken nickname. Scaramouche had his signature cocky smirk on his face and you wanted so badly to wipe it off his face.
"Scara, if you don't have anything better to do, just leave. Cause unlike you, I'm actually trying to accomplish something here." You finally had enough of his bullshit at the moment and just wanted to study in peace.
"Chill, (Name). You're so fun to tease, you know that?" Scaramouche said with a chuckle. "But I'll stop for now, let's get to business, shall we?"
You sighed in relief and nodded at Scaramouche's words. You two surprisingly studied together often despite all the back and forth bantering. This was a common norm for you too. And surprisingly, you even started to look forward to it. You tried to dismiss those feelings every time it arised, but it grew increasingly challenging.
. . .
It was the weekend, you took a stroll in the park and sat down next to a tree. You deserved this break, you thought to yourself. After all, you've been working so hard lately. You felt youself drifting, struggling to keep your head up and eyes opened.
As you rested your head on the rough wood of the trunk, you sensed someone approach you. You jolted awake and turned to see the person in question, blinking a few times in shock.
"Didn't mean to wake you." The familiar purple haired boy muttered quietly as he bent down to talk to you.
"What the hell are you doing here?" You questioned, still not recovered from the sleepiness and the shock. Hell, you weren't even sure if you were hallucinating or not.
"Relax, princess. I was following this stray cat and I saw you here by chance." Scaramouche explained, pointing to the cat across you that was now eating out of a can of tuna. Did he feed it himself? You wondered, you thought this gesture was adorable and you didn't know Scaramouche had a soft spot for cats.
"Oh, what a coincidence, then." You simply commented, observing the cat silently. "Didn't know you liked cats." You added to keep the conversation going.
"Well yeah, I have a cat myself, and I've been seeing it a lot lately so I decided to follow its routine and feed it." You nodded at his words, about to stand up when Scaramouche reaches his hand to held you get up. You hesitate for a moment whether you should take it or not, in the end, you just took it. Your heart skipped a beat as you familiarized the feeling of his touch, his hands were rough and calloused, yet soft and slim at the same time. You muttered a soft "thank you," once you got up, averting your eyes from his gaze as you felt a bit shy.
"Wanna stroll on the park with me?" Scaramouche offered. It was an innocent and genuine question. Your heart was racing at the thought as you began to formulate a response, although you were struggling to.
"I.. um- sure" You mentally cursed yourself for slightly stuttering, but how could you not? You wanted to seem calm as if this wasn't affecting you in any way, but you probably failed the moment you held his hand.
You two decided to pick up on a trail by the riverside. It was quiet and peaceful. The wind was blowing on your faces, messing up your hair a bit. You listened to the rustles of the leaves and the songs of the humming birds. The momentary silence between you and Scaramouche surprisingly wasn't awkward at all, in fact, you found great solitude in it and you really wouldn't mind staying like this.
"Why were you on the brink of sleep in the park anyways?" Scaramouche broke the silence by his curious query, looking at you with a softness in his eyes that he only has for you, except you remain oblivious to this observation.
"I was just unwinding from everything. A tiny little break. I didn't mean to fall asleep but I really couldn't help it." You softly responded. "Oh, what about that cat anyways?" The thought suddenly went through your head, especially since you realized you just left the cat by the tree.
"That cat seemed to be happy with its lifestyle, being out and about all the time. I'll visit it from time to time, but I'd rather not disturb it."
"That's nice. Didn't know you had this side of you."
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me."
"Won't you tell me some of those things then?" You asked with great curiosity and a genuine smile.
"I guess a big one is that I like you." Scaramouche suddenly revealed as you both stopped walking. Your eyes widened and your heart literally skipped a beat. You noticed a tinge of red on Scaramouche's ears and how he slowly looked away from you.
"What?" You needed confirmation that what you heard was true and your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. Maybe you were just hearing things, and the lack of sleep and stress was finally getting to you.
"I'm not repeating it. I know you heard what I said." Scaramouche finally looked back at you, but this time with an expression you've never seen on him before. He had a shy and worried look on his face, yet he was looking at you with the most loving and gentle eyes.
"I.." You felt your words get stuck on your throat, genuinely not knowing what to do or say. "I like you too.." You mumbled quietly, your eyes straying away from his gaze as as you said this. You couldn't look at him right now, it was all too much.
Scaramouche gently placed his hand on your face and gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb, making you look at him. The tension between you two right now was through the roofs and you both leaned in for a quick kiss.
You both smiled at each other before you pulled him into a deep hug. The two of you stayed like that for a bit, and the rest is history..
A/N: Hi, this is my first ever fic and I hope you enjoyed reading through it <3
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If I'm being honest, I'm not really a fan of how I progressed or wrote the story, but I'm too lazy to change things, and I decided to just post it nonetheless. I didn't proofread this so I apologize for any mistakes.
Thank you!
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seokka0o · 1 year ago
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┈┈┈ ֺ ࣭ 𝔇𝔞𝔠𝔯𝔶𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔞 ࣭ ֺ ┈┈┈
🎃 ᴅᴀʏ 10
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ᴅᴀᴄʀʏᴘʜɪʟɪᴀ
Park Sungho 🎃 afab!Reader
Warning; NONCON; stalking; Perv!sungho; threat; thigh fucking
English is not my first language, so there may be some grammar errors
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Sungho had his quirks, his unconventional methods of convincing you of things and in this world he was never used to receiving a no, when you rejected him so eagerly for the first time, or when you crossed the street to not meet him head on, All of this was kept fondly in the back of his memory, like a gift box, far from him being a bad person, but you seemed to be asking for this type of attitude from him at every moment.
It was to be expected. All the desperation, all the weirdness, and the insatiable feeling of consuming his entire being. That was how Sungho invaded your house through the window, who entered your room while you were sleeping and crept to your side, his icy, nimble fingers removing your clothes and before he could accomplish what he wanted, he woke you up without wanting to, but without giving you time to say nothing.
His hand was firm against your mouth, terror ran through your body, you felt like you were naked from the waist down and his black eyes made strong eye contact with you, making you tremble in the deepest fear.
"Shh, you don't want to fight, I could kill you" he said with a simplicity that tickled your stomach, the tone of his voice was low and you felt the firmness in which he held you, there wasn't much to fight, you were Alone at home, he knew that. With that, tears appear in your eyes, beginning to flow in abundance, out of pure despair, making his dick throb inside his pants "Oh don't cry, I promise I won't be too rude"
He said, taking his hand between your legs, playing with your button to circle, so delicately, parting your lips and playing with your intimacy.
"You know, y/n, many times I considered just leaving it alone, but you were so persistent in denying me, that I thought it would be a good incentive" he commented, still playing with his fingers around all your intimacy, tears running through your eyes and your body slowly starting to react to his touch. Hearing you mumble, he subtly takes his hand away from your mouth.
"Please….don't do anything…I b-beg" you are in tears, while he smiles as if you were the most adorable figure that ever existed, his fingers running along the top of your cheeks, drying your tears that wouldn't stop coming out.
"Don't worry darling, I'm not going to fuck you...not yet, this is something I'll wait for you to beg for it" sungho firmly grabbed the arm around your waist and held you "now you're going to be obedient and leave your legs Well closed, huh?
You felt the danger flowing, even if he wasn't armed you knew you wouldn't be able to escape him, crying in resistance, also in giving up, you closed your eyes when you felt his dick fit between your legs, until he started fucking your thighs .
"So hot" he sighed and began to place kisses on your jaw, not waiting for any reaction from you, he was going slowly between your legs, and in moments he began to mark your skin, biting and sucking, moaning while you cried nonstop.
"Are you going to stop being such a slut and stop whining or am I going to have to shut you up?" He asked in a low, light tone, your sobs were loud, and in fear you kept your tone low, even though it felt impossible to stop. Sungho increased the rhythm against your thighs, making impact noises against your skin, trembling, feeling all the pleasure in the world, your aching body and your wet pussy receiving all the stimulation he did, occasionally making you moan involuntarily in the middle of crying upon contact.
He was extremely hard, feeling numb from the contact, fucking your legs like a desperate man and then he finally came, leaving you completely smeared, and then a delicate kiss on your jaw.
"I...I feel like our relationship has everything to grow, y/n, I love you"
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cutiemochiii · 1 year ago
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Flower Crown
My first “x reader” writing EVER (I usually don’t write in this style, I give a name to any OC I write about)
Based on a HC that Zenitsu is good at making flower crowns ;-;
In which a tired you is in the company of someone who understands.
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It was essential that you had someone to train you. Oyakata-sama reminded everyone of the rarity of having a Star Breather like you, just as it was rare to have a Sun Breather like Tanjiro. And so started the game of hot potato, tossing you around to each hashira.
Obanai, Sanemi, Muichiro, and Giyuu had refused outright, barely giving any explanation as to why. But it was expected of them; they weren’t exactly the best at giving instructions or working with others. Shinobu or Rengoku would’ve gladly taken you in, had they not had so many others to take care of. Gyomei simply terrified you; sure he was gentle, but you doubted you could keep up with his raw, unadulterated power. Mitsuri worried that her breathing technique was far too different from yours, and relied a lot more on strength than yours did.
And so there you were, stuck with the Sound Hashira and his lovely wives. As gentle and kind as they were, they were warriors, and expected a lot from you. They demanded speed, agility, accuracy. But after 3 hours of losing to a Hashira who became more and more aggravated with each strike you missed, and a few more hours barely dodging the nonstop attacks of his ninja wives, you felt yourself at your limit. The world was spinning, and spots danced in your vision.
But you kept your shaking feet planted, your pearly nichirin sword sparkling in your grasp. As if your swordsmith had waited for nightfall to pluck stars straight out of the night sky and carve them into the shape of your blade. “Again,” you rasped, throat aching from how hard you were breathing. Your hands had gone pale from gripping your sword to keep it from shaking.
Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma gave you small looks of concern. They were hesitating.
“Again,” you growled, frustration growing. You had to prove to them that you were strong enough for them, that you were worth training.
Tengen had taken a seat to the side to cool off, directing the session from afar. Even he stood, clapping his hands once. “Alright, I think it’s now time for some rest.” You shook your head.
“No, I can keep going.” Tengen laughed.
“I think you should stop before you collapse on us. That would be very unflashy. Besides,” he smiled at his wives. “It’s our turn to make a meal.” They blushed at the softness in Tengen’s voice as they walked away from where they had been training with you, and towards the house.
You remained standing, heartbeat drumming in your ears. You feared you would be unable to raise your arms again if you let them fall to your sides. And it was only the second day of being under their wing.
You could hear sounds of bickering and laughter from outside the Sound Hashira’s manor. They were familiar voices. It seemed Rengoku and his students had also come back from their training. They were here for the meal Tengen invited them to.
“Listen, I understand that stamina is an important part of demon slaying, but did he really have to make us run around the entire village twice?” It was Zenitsu’s complaining. He sounded louder; they were getting close to Tengen’s training yard.
You were still frozen in your spot, trying to force your body to ease out of its high intensity state before you could let yourself relax. Your muscles were cramped, and your heart rate would not slow, no matter how much you attempted to calm yourself down.
The three friends stepped into the yard, and they stopped short when they caught sight of you.
“Hey.” It was Zenitsu’s voice that cut through the silence. “Are you alright?”
The words hit you in a wave, causing your resolve to snap like a coiled spring. Before you could react, the edges of your vision began to fade as you felt your legs give out beneath you, sword slipping out of your grasp. Your body felt indescribably heavy, and you dropped forward.
But you didn’t hit the ground, firm hands catching your arms, face landing against a warm body and fast-paced heart. You could barely muster the strength to tilt your head up. The last thing you saw before your consciousness gave out were worried, sunset eyes.
~~~~
When you awoke, you realized you were tucked under a blanket, the group of people chattering quietly as they ate at the table not far from where you rested. Suma was the first to notice you had opened your eyes. She let out a small gasp.
“She’s awake!” She squeaked, the conversation stopping as they all looked at you with relieved expressions. You guessed their reactions were supposed to be comforting. But it only pushed you further into embarrassment, for being so incapable that everyone had to take care of you, had to worry for you.
“How long was I out?” You asked quietly. Tanjiro gave you a half smile. “A couple hours, as long as it took for the food to be prepared I believe.”
Hinatsuru smiled softly and scoot over to give you space by the table as you stood up. “Come, sit next to us.” Makio called out from beside her. Inosuke nodded with a wide grin.
“Yeah! The food is amazing!” His voice came out muffled, face stuffed with whatever Tengen and his wives had made.
You stared at the wall blankly.
“No, it’s alright. I’m not that hungry. Thank you.” Before anyone could object, you excused yourself and walked out into the training yard. Zenitsu silently watched you as you left.
~~~~
There was a back exit in Tengen’s manor, and you decided to slip out of it, leaning your back against the outer wall of the property. You stared up at the sky, the stars seeming to wink mockingly at you. Tears pricked your eyes.
How come you couldn’t be like them? Like Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu. Fighting through their fears and holding their own alongside Rengoku. You could barely stand straight after two days with Tengen. Maybe you weren’t deserving of your breathing technique.
“The sky is pretty tonight.” The gentle voice startled you, and you jerked your head in the direction of the sound. Wallowing in your own pity, you hadn’t noticed Zenitsu following you outside. He was also looking at the sky.
You wiped your tears against your sleeve. “What are you doing out here?” You muttered. Zenitsu finally looked at you, eyes muted.
“I brought you some food. You need it after passing out like that earlier. Trust me,” he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I know all about it.”
You started trembling, reminded of the embarrassment of it all as you pulled your knees up to your chest and tucked your head away in your arms. Your soft sobs caused Zenitsu to flinch, speaking quickly.
“Oh I’m so sorry! If you don’t like the food it’s totally okay! I can- go grab some fruits or something if you want something lighter-” “I don’t deserve to be a Star Breather.” You whispered.
Zenitsu froze at your words. They echoed another voice he knew far too well. He kneeled down beside you. “You,” he pulled your arm away from your face. “Know that’s not true.” His face was serious, and it was the first time you had seen him look that way.
You looked up, blinking away any more tears. “Maybe I should stop using this breathing technique. I can’t keep up with any of you. I know Tengen hates me. I can see it in his eyes. All of them look at me with pity.” You finally forced yourself to face him.
“Even you.”
Zenitsu scoffed. “If you think what I feel for you is pity, then you’re awful at understanding others.” He frowned.
“I only feel frustrated. That you think you’re allowed to give up and play the victim, when we’re all fighting to keep up.” He slid down the wall to sit beside you.
“I never felt I was right with my Thunder Breathing either. I can still only use one form. There have been many times when I passed out from the sheer power behind Thunder Breathing. But when I had cried to gramps about all of it, he had asked me if I could see myself mastering a different technique.”
He paused for a second, staring at his hands. “And I realized that I couldn’t. One form or not, Thunder Breathing was the only one that felt as comfortable to me as my own skin.” Zenitsu laughed softly.
“When I told him that, he smacked me. Asked me why I was complaining then. He never let me quit. And I tried, many times. But he never stopped believing in me.” He smiled at the memories.
“Then I realized, the only thing that would help me become a better Thunder Breath wielder is to just, keep going. Because whether I like it or not, Thunder Breathing is mine.”
Zenitsu looked intently at you. “Just as Star Breathing is yours.” He paused. “And as long as that technique is the one that comes the easiest to you,” he smiled, sunset eyes glowing with determination. “I won’t let you quit either. You’ll always have me, and I will never stop believing in you.”
He had shocked you into silence. You merely stared at him, wide-eyed as he pulled something out of his orange kimono and handed it to you. “Here.”
His voice was soft, and you were staring at a beautiful pattern of flowers. A crown, consisting mostly of flowers the color of your eyes, and accented with speckles of others. “Did you-“ you looked at him with awe. “Did you make this?”
The seriousness from earlier vanished as he grinned sheepishly, nodding as his face turned pink. “Yeah. I wanted to give you something for working so hard with Tengen. And I’ve always loved crafts, so I made it during our break in training today.” Zenitsu carefully took it out of your hands, placing it on your head, arranging it to sit perfectly.
“There.” He grinned. “It looks perfect on you.” You felt your face heat up, looking at him with a grateful smile. With your sadness beginning to fade, you realized just how hungry you were.
“Zenitsu…” you began, smiling shyly. Zenitsu laughed.
“I know,” he responded, pushing the plate of food that was next to him towards you.
“Here, a plate of dinner from earlier.” He waved his hand toward the plate. “Now, eat. You’re our rare Star Breather after all.” You elbowed him playfully. Every bite of the meal was euphoric.
Zenitsu watched you eat with a soft smile.
Once you finished, you sighed, leaning back against the wall again. “Do you think we’ll ever be like the Hashira? You a Thunder Pillar, me a Star Pillar.” Zenitsu was quiet for a little bit.
“Yeah,” he finally spoke. “I think we will.”
It was all you needed to hear as you leaned your head against his shoulder, both of you watching the sky in a comfortable silence.
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Author’s Note: AHHHHHH ZENITSU! I love him so much fr. ;-; I’m so glad that my first “x reader” piece was for him. I saw this hc that Zenitsu was good at flower crowns and just HAD to write it. This one is my first writing in this form, and it might seem a bit rough, but please keep giving me the opportunity to write for y’all! Thank you. As I practice, it’ll improve for sure. For now though, I hope you enjoyed!
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