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delusionalwh6re · 6 months ago

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࿐࿔ ⋆ ｡˚ a helping hand

࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ aged up!neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

summary: it’s late at night and you’re struggling. not only can you not fall asleep but there’s a sudden ache in your core. now what type of mate would neteyam be if he didn’t help you?

warnings: 🔞NEASSTYY smut, masterbation, fingering, missionary, riding, doggystyle, p in v, squirting, can’t spell mother without mo’at, neteyam being jumpscared but then turn into a freak, reader has no shame, & dirty talk

authore note: i had a daydream abt this and needed it come to life 😫 (unlike neteyam) & yall if i make a taglist would anyone wanna be apart of it LMAO 🧍🏽‍♀️hope this makes up for my mini absence on not posting 😇

bye this took forever.. guys pls don’t be shy, i loveeee any type of feedback 🥲

You let out a long sigh in exhaustion as you dropped the second batch of medicine you just made. You couldn’t understand what was going on with you. This was happening all day today, constant screw ups and honestly you were over it.

Inhaling a deep breath in attempt to calm yourself, you started cleaning up the herbs. As you were cleaning up, you failed to notice the presence of your tsahík making you slightly startled.

“What is this?” Mo’at gestured to the mess on the floor. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment and you squeaked out a little “Hi”

She sighed and walked over to your kneeling position. You pursed your lips feeling disappointed in yourself. “My child” Mo’at grabbed you from out of your thoughts “You need to relax”

Your tensed shoulders slowly started easing at her words. “I apologize” you muttered respectfully. “It is alright dear, now tell me what is bothering you” she walked in front of you putting her hands out for you to grab. With her words of encouragement, you picked yourself off of the ground. Avoiding her cold harden gaze you felt your emotions rushing back to you.

While looking around the healing tent your eyes accidentally landed on hers. Her eyes piercing directly into yours commanding an answer.

“I feel like a failure” you finally admitted. “What makes you feel that way?” she questioned motioning you to sit on the mat beside her.

“Many women in the past have succeeded beyond my level. Why am I so far behind? I should be able to do this, how can i ever be tsahík if I can’t complete a simple task such as making medicine?” you huffed in frustration after your rant. Mo’at gave you an understanding look before taking her hands in yours “Child, it takes time” she started “but I don’t have much time! Neteyam is granted to be olo’eyktan soon and-” you stated before it was her turn to cut you off.

“What does Neteyam becoming olo’eyktan soon have to do with any of this?” she squinted her eyes at you. “He is my mate” you shrugged. “Exactly , he is your mate, not your conjoined twin!” she exclaimed causing you to let out a breathy chuckle.

“The two of you are completely different people. His learning pace is different than yours and that is okay. Neteyam has been training since he was in the womb, he’s meant for this” your eyes landed on hers as you digested what she was saying. “You on the other hand, have not. You didn’t expect to mate with my grandson but I am glad that you did” she looked you up and down with a sigh of relief.

“Why you say it like that?” you laughed at her sudden look of disapproval. She looked at you with a straight face “I was afraid our village would’ve come to doom had Neteyam picked any of those thirsty women, I don’t know how their mothers do it” she spoke with an eye roll at the memory of many annoying girls trying to get neteyam to court them.

‘What a time’ you thought. Before you and neteyam had become mates, when the two of you were just friends. Time had really gone fast.

Mo’at noticed your dazed out expression knowing you were thinking about your progressive relationship with her grandson. She smiled seeing a bit of herself in you when she had her own mate. She used to be in this exact situation which is why she was able to relate to you.

Snatching you out of your thoughts once again she spoke up breaking the newfound comfortable silence “I used to be in your exact position” your attention went back on her with hopeful eyes “For real? but you’re the best tsahik we’ve ever had” you rambled “I know” she smiled in pride causing you to giggle.

“My point is, practice makes perfect. That is a term i have learned from the sky people here and it is one of the only things they said that are true. You will not get it the first tries, but don’t give up and keep going. Success will come your way, my child” she nodded her head at you in approval

You nodded your head back and felt a sudden rush of confidence run through you. If Mo’at who was honestly one of the strongest people you knew was able to run this clan, so could you.

“You give me hope Ma’ Tsahík” you smiled at her gently squeezing her hands “Oh please, we discussed this, you can call me grandmother” you placed your arms around her for a well needed hug. She tensed before relaxing as she hugged you back with genuine love.

“Besides, I have hopes that there will soon be little ones calling me great grandmother” she pulled away with a smirk and hope glistening in her eyes. A blush crept onto your cheek before laughing at what she was implying “You’re funny”

She began walking you towards the makeshift door to exit out of the healing tent as you discussed your plans for tomorrow. Your ikran landing on a nearby cliff after sensing your presence. Before you were able to fully leave Mo’at reminded you of something “Don’t forget the war party returns tonight, I will not be present but will you able to make sure everyone is in one piece?”

Your eyes widened in realization, Neteyam was returning in a few hours. He had went on a one week hunting trip and you had been missing him like crazy. How could you forget? You figured spending time with Mo’at and being occupied your mind had let that slip.

“Fuck” you mumbled. “Yes! I can do that don’t worry! I’ll see you tomorrow grandmother. Take some rest you deserve it” you yelled out as you sprinted towards your ikran to go home.

You had spent all day at the healing tent that you had no time to prepare for Neteyam’s return. Even though he told you multiple times that as long as you were there he is more than satisfied and he just needed to be wrapped around you.

However, you were still insistent on setting atleast something up for him, what kind of wife would you be? Neteyam was the best husband any one could ever asked for. Always putting you and others above himself, making several sacrifices and just being overall selfless. So you had no problem with being a little housewife.

Once your ikran had landed at the home that Neteyam literally built for your future family. You felt your body getting excited at his soon to come arrival, you had missed your man dearly and you knew once you were in his arms all your problems will disappear.

“My love? I’m home” Neteyam called out as he walked through the door. Immediately frowning once he didn’t see you, however he did notice several candles lit up so he knew you were home.

Walking towards the candles he also noticed a platter of his favorite foods. A smile emerged on his face he bent down to sit as he waited for you since he was sure you would reveal yourself any second. His guess was correct as you slowly appeared in the makeshift door way of your home in a newly made outfit “Welcome home handsome”

Neteyam’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice and your scent. Turning around to finally have a look as his eyes widened. Your azure skin was complimented by green and blue jewels. Your loincloth and top were scattered with them, along with small purple crystals dangling from the pieces. Your cleavage was on display just for him but also not enough in order to tease him. You took your braids out so your hair had the most perfect waves which was a style you knew Neteyam adored.

The forest inspired outfit you had done left him completely star struck. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on, and you were all for him. He was so in awe of you he didn’t even notice you were now sat next to him until you said something.

“Handsome you alright? Welcome home” you placed a hand on his cheek before placing a gentle but loving kiss on his lips. He decided to make a move by tilting his head to deepen the kiss, slickly sliding his tongue once you let out a small gasp into his mouth. You giggled into the kiss at his antics causing him to giggle with you before he playfully bit your lip with a smirk.

The two of you leaned away to finally look into the other’s eyes. His eyes were full with so much love you swore they would’ve burst. “Hi beautiful” he rubbed your cheek softly. You nuzzled your face into his hand with a contented sigh finally feeling at peace.

Your gaze met his as a sigh left his mouth. “What is it?” you lifted your head. He stared at you not saying anything. You started becoming nervous under his gaze and debated whether this was too much or not. You were about to speak up about his behavior until he beat you to it.

“You’re just so” he paused to take another moment to admire you “so so beautiful” his voice lowered as his eyes trailed downwards. A heat started to spread across your cheeks as you smiled at him.

For he rest of the night the two of you caught up on everything. He explained how he made several successful kills during the hunt leading to you giving him kisses in reward as you praised him. On the other hand, you came clean to him about how your tsahík training was actually going. He could tell you were very stressed out, encouraging you to take your time and not worry because he will be by your side every step of the way.

Your mind was racing with thoughts as Neteyam peacefully slept on your chest. The two of you cuddled up on your shared bed. After talking for a few hours, time caught up to Neteyam and his tiredness consumed him. You were very understanding and insisted on him getting some rest, even including yourself by laying with him.

But as time went on you couldn’t help but think about the time he was gone. How many nights you were forced to fall asleep without a release. As you debated with yourself on what to do, your mind eventually came to a conclusion. Trying to be as quiet as possible, you gently pushed Neteyam of you, still beside him so he wouldn’t wake up, while slowly trailing your hand down your loincloth.

You were so close. The pit of your stomach tightening more and more with each flick to your clit. It was like you were running to the finish line in slow motion, yet almost there. In just a couple of seconds that knot would finally snapped and you would be stress free. Which is what you desperately needed.

So caught up in your own bliss you didn’t realize the movement from beside you, right when your core was at its peak your fingers stopped at what you heard, losing your hard worked orgasm.

“What are you doing?” Neteyam asked in a quiet voice staring at the side of your face. Your heart physically stopped and dropped for a second. Eywa please say this was just a dream, but no, this was actually a nightmare.

You heard shuffling next to you and finally got the courage to look over at him only to be met with a blank stare “Go ‘head, continue” he licked his lips looking you up and down

You shook your head as frustrated tears filled your eyes. He chuckled before looking down in disbelief “Nah, you wanted to touch yourself right? So finish before I do it for you”

At his words you swore your orgasm would’ve just shot right out of you despite no physical contact, his words just had that affect on you. You bit your lip in anticipation as you pulled your hand away from your pussy and spread your legs further

“Please” you whimpered looking up at him desperately. “Please what baby?” his head tilted as he caressed your cheek lovingly. “Touch me” you whispered dragging his other hand down to your now dripping cunt. He snarled before cupping your pussy while slightly grinding his palm against your throbbing clit.

“Oh I’m gonna do more than touch you, just wait” he smiled before leaning over to kiss a trail across your stomach. Your breath hitched, you were in for it now. “Neteyam” you whined as his lips got more aggressive on your skin. “A week without my attention and you just don’t know how to act, huh?” he shook his head. Your breath got caught in your throat “That’s not true” your voice was barely a whisper.

“It’s not? Over here touchin’ yourself while i’m sleeping right there. You wanted to get caught, didn’t you yawne?” he hovered over you

“Maybe” you bit your lip seductively as the excitement of all of this grew inside of you

He dragged a finger along your slit, gathering up some already built up slick. “All you gotta do is think ‘bout me huh?” he asked looking up at you. “And look at you” you replied cheeky with a lopsided grin. Deciding to be bold, you grabbed onto his hand to press it against your soaked pussy.

“This is what you do to me Neteyam” you moved his hand up and down slowly as wet sounds started filling up the room. He growled as he inhaled your scent “dirty girl”

You laughed breathless as your previous orgasm slowly approached you again. Neteyam, being an expert in your body language already knew this as he continued to watch you, allowing you to use him for pleasure. It’s what you been doing while he was away anyways.

He licked his lips before trailing kisses all over your body. Starting from your cheek, to your neck, then your chest and as he moved downwards his kisses became more aggressive on your stomach. Each time a kiss ended a ‘pop’ would be heard.

You gasped when his slender finger suddenly slipped in, a smirk on his face. He curled his finger at the perfect angle, hitting that squishy spot inside of you that he knew always drove you crazy.

“Oh! I’m so close” you whimpered within seconds. Neteyam helping you reach your peak with ease. “Go ‘head, let it out” he sloppily kissed your clit. At the much needed contact your orgasm flowed right through you. Your mouth opened as a silent scream left you.

“Yeah, yeah make that pussy squirt for me” he spoke lowly rubbing your puffy clit at a fast pace to work you through your orgasm. “Teyam” you whined trying to close your thighs around his hand.

“Unt unt, no, we’re not done” he sat up looking down at you. Your eyes widened as you watched his hands move towards his loincloth to untie it. You inhaled a deep breath at the sight of his cock now in your view. He loosened his loincloth completely as it was now pooled at the bottom of thighs, removing it entirely and throwing it across the room.

“You’ve been so, so greedy. Tell me, do you want it slow or for me to fuck you like I’ve been dying to do?” his voice came out raspy as he placed lighthearted kisses against your neck.

Your body stiffened, your words getting stuck in your throat as you didn’t know what to say. “I-I- just need you Teyam. So bad” you whined.

“How bad baby?” his eyes met yours as he stroked his cock directly in front of your warm sex. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth, a wet sound could be heard from the amount of pre cum gathered on his tip. You were so incredibly turned on by him, your body proving that as your cunt clenched around nothing.

“So bad, I want-need you to destroy me.” you ran your hands across his chest. “Fuck me until i have nothing left to give, stuff me to the brim, I want it all, I can take it. I’ll be your good girl, I promise” and if he wasn’t already turned on by just the pure sight of you the words that left your mouth was enough for him to slide his dick inside of you.

The both of you let out long moans at the familiar feeling. Having to be away from each other for a long period of time was hard, but now you guys were together, intertwined.

“Fuuuckk” he moaned looking down at the source of pleasure. You whined and brought your legs to wrap around his waist, bringing him closer to place kisses all over his face.

“I’m all yours, all yours” you whispered in his ear before kissing it gently

“Yeah? You’re all mine? Say that shit again”

“I’m all yours neteyam” a whine leaving your mouth as he grinded on top of you creating the perfect amount of friction

He purred quietly at your words, nuzzling the side of his face into yours and bringing you into a much needed kiss. Causing you to mumble against his lips “I love you”

“I love you more” he placed his hands onto your hips. “You gonna let me fuck you? You’re gonna be good and take it right? he sat up to look down at you.

You pushed your hips up, hoping to answer his question. Circling your hips to feel some friction as he bottomed out inside of you, smirking at him.

Finally feeling satisfied with your response, he started to move. “Shit” he groaned as he felt your sticky walls contract around him. He smirked at your not so slick antics before starting to thrust inside of you. Your whines started to fill up the room along with quiet slapping noises. “Oh Neteyam!” you moaned out scratching his back.

“I been waiting to fuck you for so long baby, I’m right here” he growled in your ear, placing one of his hands on your hips to steady his harsh thrusts.

You started letting out soft moans feeling him go deeper and deeper, your juices making it easier for him to hit spots inside of you only he could reach.

You screamed as his hands made its way behind your thighs to hold them up in the air. Taking this as a sign, your hands replaced his as you now held onto the back of your thighs. “Good girl” he mumbled drilling his dick inside of you

“Mhm, dick- so, so good, yes!” you babbled out complete nonsense but he knew what you were trying to say. “This dick is just soooo good, huh?” he chuckled teasingly

His pace was becoming almost painful but in the most pleasurable way possible as he continued fucking you relentlessly. Pushing your thighs all the up so they were pressed firmly against your chest. Completely folding you just the way he wanted, not having any mercy on you or your poor cunt.

The most obscene sounds consuming the room, all that could be heard is skin slapping, your fucked out screams and his grunts.

“Ugh, don’t stop! Right there, Oh right there!” you whimpered as he jackhammered your pussy

“I’m not gonna stop my love, this pussy is way too good” he mumbled rolling his hips into you as his thrusts became sloppy. You felt your stomach tightening and your cunt clenching rapidly as a signal you were close.

“You’re gonna make me cum” you moaned as you held onto him for dear life. he reached down to be face to face with you before whispering in your ear “Then cum my love”

At his words you completely let go with a scream as you threw your head back. Your orgasm leaked out of you making your privates even wetter. You weren’t embarrassed per say, but every time this happens you kind of shy away from it. Neteyam on the other hand never did and he found it so attractive, he was the only one who got you like this.

“We made a mess baby” he smirked before looking down between your bodies. ”I know” your cheeks heated up and you looked up away from him. “Nah, don’t be shy now” he laughed at you before leaning up to pull out of you, he assumed you were tired and wanted to call it quits, but oh your man just had no idea how badly you really needed him.

Within a couple of seconds, he was laid out on his back with you hovering over him. Your plump lips slightly swollen from the amount of kisses and moaning, the tits that he loved so much on a perfect eye level so he could trail his tongue around your sensitive nipples, your slim waist that he loved so much, fuck. you were truly a goddess on display.

“You’re so sexy” you moaned biting your lip as you rubbed your sensitive clit on his abs making them tense. Not that he was completely on soft anyways, but now he was rock hard again.

“Don’t play with me babe, if you wanna do something then do it” he smirked at you before he placed his bottom lip between his teeth. You smiled at him with pure adoration before reaching behind you to grab his wet cock to line it up with your drenched hole.

Sinking down onto him with a contented sigh, the familiar feeling of his dick filling you up once again. Light moans from you and Neteyam filling up the hut. A hum from Neteyam catching your attention, his head firm against the pillow as his mouth slowly formed in an ‘O’ shape.

You felt your insides tingling knowing you were the reason because of that, bringing him pleasure. Catching him out of a trance you rolled your pelvis against his, his tip kissing your g spot perfectly.

“Baby” he whispered lowly as his eyes were hooded as he looked at you. “Yes?” You smiled bringing a hand to his neck up to his cheek. “C’mon” he impatiently moved your hips back and forth signaling what he wanted

With a proud smirk on your face, you made sure your knees were placed firmly beside his hips while perching yourself on your tippy toes for balance. “Ready?” you adjusted to his size

“Always” he cockily bit his lip and closed his eyes as he began to relax while you fucked him. Gathering up the confidence, you pushed your hips up until his throbbing tip was the only thing inside of you before slamming back down.

A loud moan left the both of you. You looked at Neteyam through your lashes; his eyes slightly rolling to the back of his head, he was enjoying this. Repeating the same action, each time a perfect stroke against your g spot causing you to cry out and drip. After gaining some rhythm with your hips, you were riding him like there was no tomorrow.

“Hmm, oh my gosh” you moaned loudly throwing your head back as you slammed down onto him harder, the pleasure consuming all parts of your body and you didn’t want it to stop. “So fucking- ugh” he was cut off when you started to circle your hips.

You leaned forward placing your hands beside his head as you placed your mouth by his ear. He smiled up at you before putting a hand on your lower back. Deciding to be bold, you moved your hips in a specific motion which led to his eyes widening in realization.

“Told you I’m all yours baby” you whined in his ear as you continued spelling his name with your hips

He placed a hard spank on your ass, a chuckle leaving his lips “Damn right you are, no one is ever fucking you the way I do right?”

You let out a moan once his hips roughly thrusted towards yours, him meeting your thrust more than half way. “Answer me” he demanded forcing your hips up and down. “N-no!” your voice shook as your guts got played in

“Neteyaaam” you moaned as your legs were starting to give out from his harsh thrusts. “Gonna cum, hm?” he trialed his thick tongue around your perky nipples, a bolt of electricity running through you due to the amount of pleasure.

“Yes! Yes please let me cum” you begged placing your hands on his shoulders. “I was never gonna deny you release baby” he laughed at your vulnerable state, clearly amused at how much you really needed him to fuck some brain cells back into you.

“Mhm, turn around” he moaned giving your ass a hard smack before gripping it gently. You gave him a smirk before placing your hands on his chest for balance while getting off of him. Turning around, making sure to give him a perfect view, your round ass on display just for him along with your slick pussy lips. He moaned at the sight before placing another firm slap on the flesh.

You giggled while sliding back on his thick cock that was desperately waiting for your dripping cunt “My ass is gonna fall off with how much you smack it”

“I don’t give a fuck, it’s mine right?” he smiled behind your back while gripping the flesh tightly with both hands. “Obsessed” you mumbled before leaning forward to place your hands on his knees for balance as you began going crazy on top of him.

“Yeah put it on me, juuuuusst like that” he moaned watching your ass ripple against his pelvis. “Oh! Mhm, I- FUCK!” you screamed using all your force to slam down onto him. Your eyes crossing as his warm sack met your clit.

“Damn mama” Neteyam looked in awe as strings of your juices started to create lines all over your privates; moans getting louder as the both of you approached your peaks.

“I’m gonna fucking cum” your voice getting higher after each word from every thrust into your core. “S-Same time baby” he stuttered holding onto your hips as the knot in his stomach finally unraveled.

His seed flowing through you was enough to trigger your own orgasm as you let go on top of him. Your guys’ cum now mixed together pooled all over each other’s thighs.

Your breathing slowly became steady as your legs staggered while trying to get off of him. “Let me help you” a raspy voice was heard behind you. However, it wasn’t long until you were set up face down ass up.

“You’re actually trying to kill me” you muttered turning your head to look back at Neteyam. “Kill the cat” he winked at you while playing with your swaying tail.

You bit back a smile before pushing your ass back onto him; making sure to hold eye contact with him the whole time. An obvious smirk on your lips as you teased him.

You were caught off guard by a stinging pain on your right cheek. “You know what-” you started before being caught off by a harsh thrust into your cunt.

Neteyam set a merciless rhythm from the beginning. He was determined to have you worn out by the end of this round, wanting you to sleep real good in his arms tonight which is right where you belonged.

“NETEYAM!” you screamed plunging your face into the sheets as you gripped onto them tightly causing your knuckles to turn white. “I really wish you could see this baby” he groaned watching himself go in and out

“Oh great mother! Yes!” you moaned as he impaled you from behind; another orgasm quickly approaching unsurprisingly. “Yeah? You wanna see this too right?” he gripped your hips

“Mhm, baby please” you didn’t know what you were saying please for but both of you had an idea that you just didn’t want him to stop. He laughed “Maybe next time I should just take one of those cameras then, could just make our own movie, so every time I’m away you’ll have something. Keep you in check of exactly who this pussy belongs to”

You moaned loudly at his words and clenched around him tightly as you came on him for the third time tonight. “That’s what the fuck I’m talking ‘bout!” he bit his bottom lip; tugging on your hair to lift you up.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his pace increased. With every firm thrust he sent you he smashed against your sweet spot that had you trembling “I-I caaan’t”

“You can take it though right? Wanna be big and bad every other time” he mumbled under his breath now rolling his hips into you; his pace changing to slow but deeper

“Too big” you whispered as your thighs shook. He bit his lips admiring your form before planting kisses all over your back “I want you to think of everything I just did to you the next time you touch yourself, you hear me?”

You nodded your head letting out a soft moan “Babeee, I can’t stop cumming, feel so full, feels so fucking good”

He soothed your cries with a gentle rub on your ass to calm you “I got you, just let it out, you been good like you promised”

“I love you, Neteyam! I love you soo much” you sobbed as he picked up his pace again in attempt to make both of you guys cum. His dick bullying its way all throughout your stomach, hitting all of the right places.

“I love you sooo much more, beautiful. Cum all over this dick, you deserve it” he spoke softly tightening his grip on your hair.

You came with a cry of his name, your jaw dropping as pleasure washed over you for the fifth time in a row. Your body slowly giving up on you, but a smile was plastered on your face as you got what you’ve desperately been wanting.

“Shiiit” he whimpered as your juices ran down your body getting his cock wetter than before; the position you were in not helping at all as he looked down before suddenly busting his load inside of you.

You hummed in satisfaction as you rolled your hips back towards his still ones, letting the moment die down peacefully. As exhaustion washed over the both of you, it was time to cuddle up. Neteyam got up to go across the room to clean you up with gentleness and care. You even cleaned him up aswell leading to you guys being extra lovey dovey with one another.

The two of you were inseparable. Now finally settled in your shared home, in bed, peacefully. Your queues now connected together as you guys let your minds speak to each other, letting the other know how much they were loved.

In the end it was all worth it…

#neteyam #avatar the way of water #avatar #atwow #avatar smut #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #atwow fanfiction #neteyamsmut #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam sully #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #i need him #dick me down #this took forever to make #neteyam avatar

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azsazz · 1 month ago

Text

Infest

Stalker!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel really really likes you.

Warnings: Stalking.

Word Count: 2864

Notes: Going to try my hand at something a little darker. No plans for what's going to happen next, so it might be a hot minute before the next part. 🖤

Also high-key for my Ghost girlies 🤭

_________________________________________

Thursday, October 31st

The city streets are crowded for the holiday, and Azriel’s there, too.

He must choose his target carefully, but he’s had one picked out since the first time he saw her strolling down the rainy streets one evening, all alone with no protection, head buried in her phone.

And that target is you.

He keeps his head dipped low as not to call attention to himself. The dark hood of his sweatshirt curls over his head, concealing his features. All attempts at blending in are futile, because he isn’t dressed as a cinematic axe murderer or a gimmicky super hero. He’s clothed as he always is; black hoodie and matching jeans, paired with thick-soled, military grade boots.

It doesn’t matter, anyway, because you haven’t noticed him in the forty-three days, sixteen hours, fifteen minutes, and twenty-one…twenty-two seconds that he’s been following you.

Azriel can recount how you live your days by heart. He doesn’t need to, because you haven’t left his line of sight since he’d set his focus on you. At five-thirty, you wake up. In the gym at the top floor of your apartment complex by six. You run on the treadmill Mondays and Fridays, attempt the Stairmaster on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with sporadic weight-lifting in between. It hurts to watch, and there have been a handful of times Azriel has wanted to give up his position, make himself known in your life, and show you proper form in and outside of the gym. Wednesday is your rest day. After that it’s back to your apartment to get ready for your day. Protein shake, shower, blow-dry your hair, followed by breakfast, dressing in whatever you wear to your office, though he thinks he might even have your outfits memorized because there are only so many options in your tiny closet.

Tonight, you’re dressed as a scantily clad little red riding hood, which only makes him feel even more like the big, bad wolf that he is. He has much too patience, too much time, and has too much interest invested in you.

It’s dark, which is his home. He’s always sought comfort in the black of night, has had to with the household her grew up in, where he was often locked in the closet for bad behavior that was in no way his own doing. He would stay in there for so long his parents forgot, that time lost all meaning. Inside of that closet, he learned that he could fear the dark or thrive in it, and Azriel chose the latter.

Azriel slides off of the bus stop bench, trailing you and your friend. His eyes are sharp, calculating as he drinks in the surroundings. He is always on alert, even though the streets are filled with joyous laughter and squealing children that make the constant ringing in his ears sound like symbols clashing, reverberating his eardrums in the most annoying sense.

He shakes his head clear and refocuses on his target.

You’re with a friend. Morrigan. She’s the one that always has you rolling your eyes when you take her phone calls. Azriel knows this because he screens them. He doesn’t like her one bit, thinks that there are better options in your friend group that you should hang out with more, like Feyre or Tarquin. If Azriel really thought that he could pull it off, Mor would be gone from your life for good.

Okay, he knows that he can pull something exactly like that off. He didn’t train for a decade as a Night Stalker in the Army to not know how to murder quickly and quietly. Years of training has turned Azriel into a nocturnal animal. Always watching, always waiting for the right moment to strike.

You stumble over the curb when you cross the street and Azriel’s fists tighten in his pockets. You’re not paying any attention to your surroundings. There could people out here who want to bring harm upon you, and you’re too unaware, much too focused on the story Mor is telling you, her voice so loud that Azriel can hear her nasally pitch over the crowd of teens he shoves his way through.

“Hey!” A girl in a skeleton shirt snaps. Azriel deigns her a microsecond of a look. Cheap skeleton mask pushed up into her hair. Black circles painted around her eyes. Much too old to be trick-or-treating. “Watch it!”

Azriel’s only response is to snatch the mask off of her head and keep walking.

The teen calls out after him, outraged, but her friends circle in on her, making sure that she doesn’t start something that they can’t finish. She’s shouting something about getting him on video and that she’s calling her father, who she claims is the chief of police in this corrupt city.

She really shouldn’t be flaunting that information.

He doesn’t have to look up at you to know where you and Mor are headed, but he does because he’s meticulous in his work, and a simple double-triple-even quadruple check is not out of the ordinary for him.

Azriel hates and loves the platform red heels you’re wearing. Hates them because you’ve tripped once already, and they’re not good for running should you run into trouble. That is, trouble that isn’t him, because when he comes for you, there will be no getting away.

He loves them because they look incredibly sexy on you, make your legs look miles tall, and he wants them hooked around his shoulders while he devours you.

Your heels are tall. You look like a fawn standing for the first time. Azriel could blame it on the two drinks and three shots you had at your apartment prior to moseying throughout the city to find a club that doesn’t have a line around the corner to party in for the night, but he’s seen you trip over less. Clumsy would be your middle name if he didn’t already know what it is.

The dress you’re wearing isn’t even a dress at all. The hem hits you just below your crotch, and he knows you’re not wearing any shorts beneath it because he’s caught sight of the little red bow on the waistband of your panties already. His jaw flexes where it’s locked together as the breeze lifts the cheap fabric.

You laugh, brushing down your skirts. He’s caught two father’s drinking you in like bloodhounds. There are women who stare, also, and more than a handful of teenagers. Azriel has to shove the violent thoughts from his mind. He should have made his move weeks ago, because you would never leave the house in something like this if he had anything to say about it.

The bodice of your top—if it can be considered a top at all—is tight, accentuating your curves and pushing your breasts to your chin. It’s raunchy. It’s seductive. You look like an escort, one who is paid top dollar for the services you’d offer.

The crimson cape you’re wearing is the most modest piece of clothing you have on. It’s pulled over your curled hair, blocking your peripherals. If he were to stalk closer to you, you’d never see him coming. Not that you would anyway, not until he’s ready for you to see him.

His cock twitches in his pants, and he rips his gaze from your legs, traveling upward until all he’s looking at is your matching red cloak that currently conceals the rest of your body from how you’ve wrapped it around yourself in a makeshift coat. It’s brisk this time in October, and Azriel would happily give you the clothes off his back if you’re cold, or to cover you up.

Azriel examines the mask he tore from the teens head. It’s a skull poorly sewn to a balaclava, and it makes him think of previous recon missions he’s been on where he’s had to wear a mask of his own. It trudges up a feeling in his gut like he’s been stabbed with a hot knife again, but he shoves it over his head anyway, and readjusts his hood.

You and Mor come to a stop at the crosswalk. There’s a group of people waiting at the light, so Azriel slips closer. He’s not worried about you seeing him. If you did, it wouldn’t matter anyway, because you have no idea who he is, that he knows you, has been following you. You are blissfully unaware, and that gives Azriel an uneasy edge.

You smell sweet, like candy and cherries. It’s his favorite of your perfumes. Intoxicating, delicious. He wants to crane down and press his nose into the crook of your neck, lick it off of you until you’re a whimpering mess with your hands buried deep in his hair and your back arched against him, begging him for more.

Mor’s voice pulls him back into the present. She talks about a man that she had a one-night stand with and is rating him on how well he pleasured her in bed. Not well, it sounds like, and Azriel knows that he’d had no trouble working you to orgasm because of the good girl you’d be for him.

Soon.

“And when do you suppose you’re getting laid again?” Morrigan scoffs when you tease her about her horribly lay. The walk sign lights up and the two of you begin to cross the street. Mor crosses her arms over her chest, and all the action does is push her breasts higher into the sky. A man Azriel passes curses low under his breath, eyes glued to her chest. Azriel checks him with his shoulder as he passes, causing the man to grunt and spit that same curse at him, this time sounding irritated instead of like a man cursed to have the beauty of a young woman flaunted in his face.

Azriel keeps walking, lengthening his strides as you turn a corner, nearly at the bar.

You sigh, long and lonely. It makes Azriel’s cock jump as he imagines you making that noise when he pulls his cock from your mouth only to allow you to swallow down a desperate breath before he’s shoving himself back down your throat. He’s heard you make that noise aplenty: while you’re dreaming sinful dreams and he’s standing in the darkness of your room, watching you.

He imagines the noises you might make with his fingers in your cunt or bouncing on his cock. With a plug nestled in that tight little ass and your hands tied to the headboard. With clamps around your nipples and his face buried between your legs. Moan, maybe, beg, scream, cry, thrash, writhe, plead beneath his touch.

The number of things he’d like to do to you is endless. He’s had over forty-three days to think about exactly what he’s going to do to you.

“I don’t know,” you respond. Azriel knows. “Whenever I find the right one, I guess.”

Mor laughs, and Azriel doesn’t fail to notice the way that your shoulders stiffen at the shrill sound. Another strike against the blonde. “See, that’s your problem! You’re all ‘I need to find the right man,’ but you’re never actually testing them out! It’s not like the man of your dreams is going to drop out of the sky—” Azriel could. He’s trained in that. “And sweep you off your feet. You have to try!”

The streets are busier in the heart of town. The demographic has changed from toddlers and children dressed in silly costumes to adults dressed in even less. The bars that line the street are all packed to the brim, and Azriel’s never been a fan of places with this many people, but he’s used to confined spaces, and being pressed up against a wall in a dark bar while watching you let loose for once won’t be the worst night of his life by far.

He knows which bar you’re going to. Rita’s, the dirtiest, diviest bar on the block. It’s been a staple in Velaris for years, and only the locals, but they play the best music. You and your friends have been going here since before it was legal. You hope that they’re here because Feyre mentioned she and Rhys were in the Uber, but you know that they tend to get sidetracked in each other more often than not.

Maybe Cassian or Tarquin will be there.

“I try!” you defend, but it weak. You hate being on dating apps, and the conversations with the guys that you do match with are drier than the Sahara. And within days they always unmatch you. “It’s not my fault that I’m looking for more interesting conversation than a ‘hey, how was your day,’ or ‘sorry I didn’t respond, I fell asleep.’” You’re not boring, you refuse to believe that you’re the problem in these situations. These men can be so boring sometimes, and your life is already mundane enough, you don’t need entertain a man who is going to pussy out on you before the first date or only wants you to put out.

You and Mor get into the short line. Attor is working the door tonight. He’s a. large, brooding security guard that’s been working for Rita’s forever. He’s known you and Mor since the first night you came here, when you were juniors in high school and Cassian convinced you all to come here after the team won the homecoming game. He’s allowed you in all these years, but never lets you cut the line.

Mor leans against the brick wall of the building, shooting you an offended look. You make a face because you’ve seen more people out here crouched and puking their guts up against these very walls. You’ve seen people fondling each other against it, too, and you’re fifty percent sure that Cassian slept propped up against it one night when he got a little too drunk to coordinate a ride home.

“You just have to get past that part,” she says, and you bite your lip to refrain from mentioning that none of the guys that she’s met online have stuck around. Maybe you should be thankful for that, because she’s the only other single girl in your friend group. It can’t just be you and Cassian as the single ones, because that would ruin your chances even further.

Azriel doesn’t follow you into the line. He notices the smoking area is a waist-high gate and wants to laugh at the security of this place. He bums a cigarette off of a guy who keeps eyeing him, and while the guard at the front door converses shortly with you and Mor, he lifts a leg and hooks it over the fence, easily making his way into the bar.

He slides through the plethora of people, quickly and with the stealth of a lethal predator. He’s been here before on multiple accounts, thanks to you, so he’s familiar with the terrain and knows that you and Mor are headed straight for the bar to order drinks before scoping out the place for your friends.

It’s muggy, musty. The air smells like body odor and alcohol. Everything’s made of wood: the bar, the floors, the walls. There’s a tiny disco ball over a stick floor where the tables have been pushed aside for a makeshift dancefloor that no one uses until two hours before closing when there’s more booze than blood in their veins.

Azriel slides in next to you at the bar, but keeps his back turned away from you. It’s not time yet, but he loves the warmth of your body beside his. Goosebumps break out across his skin when you accidentally brush up against him.

He tilts his head, listening.

“Well…there might be this one guy,” you trail off, and Azriel’s fingers curl into fists.

He doesn’t like the man you’re bringing up one bit. Has dug well into his life, and even if he hadn’t, Azriel would have been able to tell upon first glance that this man is not going to give you the relationship nor the orgasms you deserve.

“Bitch! Tell me now!” Mor shouts, and Azriel can picture the grin curving her red lips. When you open your mouth to speak, your friend quickly cuts you off. “Wait, wait, wait! We need drinks first.” She waves over Rita herself, the older woman greeting the both of you with warm smiles. She waves in your direction, beginning to make your drinks without even asking.

“You know, the world doesn’t revolve around relationships and how many people you’ve slept with,” you huff, and Azriel agrees. It’s not his world, because in his head, his world revolves around you and only you, but he’d support anything that came out of your mouth, especially if it’s in regards to the other men in your life.

“Okay,” Mor snorts again. The both of you thank Rita for your drinks and head away from the bar, thankfully saving Azriel from having to hear about this new conquest that isn’t even a conquest at all if he has anything to do about it.

#azriel x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel/reader #stalker!azriel #dark romance!azriel #azriel fanfiction #modern!azriel au

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kyph3r · 9 months ago

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BOYFRIEND JUNGKOOK HCS ♡

pairing: bf!jungkook x fem!reader

genre: established relationship, fluff, smut

AN: long time no see!! ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა second round of the hc series, yoongi or jin are next !!

SFW HCS-

• like a big puppy when you first start dating, a lot of play fighting

• i feel like he would try to make his confession to you perfect, he gets you flowers and chocolates and has a big speech planned but ends up getting nervous and says something completely different than planned, but it still works!

• wants to hang out with you all the time, he will crash hangouts with your friends to spend time with you (which is sweet but also annoying)

• kisses you like you'll never see each other again it's the most dramatic thing in the world

• "jungkook, i'll only be gone for 30 minutes!" "ah, just one more i'm gonna miss you so much."

• definitely the type to get jealous, very obviously jealous, most of the time the person stealing your attention gets scared of him staring them down and backs off

• but sometimes his stare goes unnoticed and he will simply just walk over and lead you away from them

• sends videos and pictures of bam being cute with the caption “look at our son 🥺”

• a big huge humongous flirt, loves seeing you blush, but sometimes you will say something flirty to him and he'll be stuttering with a bright red face for the rest of the conversation

• would mainly call you baby but every once in awhile he would call you something really corny like sugar plum or apple of my eye to make you embarrassed

• writes you little notes whenever you go out somewhere, sometimes draws little pictures of you guys holding hands or playing with bam and puts it somewhere he knows you'll see

• he's just so boyfriend like idk how else to describe it, he'll get you whatever you want whenever you want, always treating you so well

NSFW HCS-

• when you guys first start having sex, he is very cautious with how he handles you

• once you guys are more comfortable though, he gets a lot rougher with you

• i feel like he's a switch but leans more towards being on top, can easily switch up in the middle of sex

• will not hesitate to slut himself out for your attention, you'll be trying to work on something in peace and he'll come in shirtless with the excuse that "it's too hot"

• isn't a very kinky guy but would be into using toys during sex

• obsessed with making you squirt. like that is his number one goal when fucking you

• the type to manhandle you into a position and hold you down with strong arms, also really likes when you get overstimulated and try squirm out of his manhandling and he just easily overpowers you

• loves showing you his strength, he'll take any chance he gets to pick you up and fuck you against something

• the times when he'll get a bit subby is when you'll ride him, which is something he loves way too much

• seeing you on top of him using him for pleasure just makes him crazy hard

• i feel like he would be the type to really enjoy dry humping, especially first thing in the morning when you're still sleepy

• gets so hard when you dance on him at parties, one minute you're throwing it back on him and the next you're in the bathroom bent over the counter top

• jealous sex is always intense, he'll have you in any position he can think of and make you remind tell him who you belong to (him obv)

• very talkative during sex, always a mix of the sweetest praise and the nastiest dirty talk being whispered in your ear

• aftercare is soothing with him, if he's not too tired he'll give you a massage until you drift off to sleep

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook headcanons

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minisugakoobies · 11 months ago

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Yours for the Night | HHJ

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, frenemies to lovers, Model!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: so. much. cockiness from Hyunjin, arguing as a form of foreplay, a bit of dumbification, what's a little fucking between frenemies?, dick pics, exhibitionism, nipple play, mentions of slut shaming, grinding, fingerfucking, pinching, just a tiny bit of spit, unexpected use of pet names, oral sex (f receiving), wet and messy, biting, dirty talk, maybe a little degradation (talking about reader being cock stupid), unprotected sex (bc used), riding/cowgirl style, praise/use of "good girl," soft dom!hyunjin vibes, rough/hard sex, multiple positions, creampie, multiple orgasms Word Count: 8.8k Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: “Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” Or, Hyunjin makes you an offer you simply can't refuse.

A/N: I finished this earlier than expected, thanks to the inspiration that is Hyunjin at Milan Fashion Week. Have you seen him?? 🥵 Anyway, it's all because of his stunning beauty that this filthy lil pwp exists. Enjoy! 😘

Unbeta'd as usual. I would *love* to hear your thoughts - my inbox is always open (anon is on, but hateful comments will be blocked. Be kind, writers do this for free and with love!) 💕

SKZ Masterlist 💜

It’s Friday night, you’re out for drinks with your friends, and you are frustrated.

It’s not the club that’s bothering you. You’re here tonight at Felix’s request. He’d told you all it had been too long since you’d gone out as a group, so all nine of you and your friends crammed yourselves into a couple of rides and headed for downtown.

Nor is it the incredibly tight, short, and backless dress you’ve poured yourself into that’s annoying you, though it’s certainly not helping. Your fingers anxiously grasp at the hem, tugging it down your thighs as you take a seat at the table where Felix and Seungmin are currently talking.

No, it’s something personal that has you wound tighter than a corset tonight. Work has been kicking your ass lately, and it’s put a huge damper on your sex life. You haven’t been out with anyone new in the last few months. Haven’t had any time to reach out to any of your small group of casual hookups who would typically lend a hand. Most nights you’ve even been too tired to masturbate.

Put simply, you’re ready to fucking pop.

Which is why you’re wearing this bodybinding dress and staring at the dance floor like a wildcat stalking its prey, searching to find someone to help you with your problem. Unfortunately, you’ve been here for hours, and no one’s caught your eye so far.

Your clutch rattles on the table, drawing your attention. Everyone who would usually text you is here, so out of curiosity, you take out your phone. The notification tells you that Hyunjin sent you a photo.

You glance across the room at where Hyunjin is sitting in a booth with Changbin, deep in conversation. Why would he send you a photo right now?

Your confusion only grows when you look at the photo. It’s a selfie, Hyunjin raising his champagne glass in a toast to the camera, perfectly tousled dark hair spilling over his brow as he fixes you with his signature smirk. It’s a gorgeous shot, of course, because he’s a gorgeous man, but again, why is he sending you selfies in the middle of tonight’s celebration? Or at all? Hyunjin’s never been the type to send you photos before, of himself or the group or anything.

He’s never really been the type to text you, period, outside of the group chat. Probably because the two of you aren’t really friends. Frenemies would be more accurate. You share the same group of friends, but have nothing else in common. Which is fine, you don’t have to be close to hang out, but he’s… well… he’s an acquired taste, and you’ve never developed an appreciation. Hyunjin’s snooty and cocky - overly so, in your opinion, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Most of your conversations consist of nothing but arguing. He’s very stubborn and loves to get the last word in on everything. Which drives you crazy because you prefer to have the final say.

So to say this sudden selfie has you perplexed is an understatement.

Ignoring whatever Felix and Seungmin are talking about, you fire off a question.

You: What is this? Hyunjin: Are you that drunk? It’s me

Reflexively, you scowl at your screen.

You: I know it’s you You: But WHY are you sending me a photo of yourself? Hyunjin: You’ve been staring at me all night Hyunjin: I thought maybe you’d like something to take home, to keep

Again, you look over, only to find him looking at you, lips curled to match his photo. Heat flames through you. Could he be more conceited?

Maybe the vanity isn’t totally unearned, considering that he’s an actual model, making a living using his ethereal beauty to sell products. His own lifestyle is just as luxurious as the images he appears in. Like right now, he’s wearing the finest black suit, obviously couture, with a few silver necklaces draped over his tie that you’ve no doubt cost more than your entire outfit alone.

And sure, he has a jawline carved by the gods, thick eyebrows that frame expressive, cat-like eyes, and ridiculously pouty lips that you’ve found yourself staring at once… an hour on average. Maybe in your weakest moments you’ve even dreamt about what it would be like to kiss those lips.

But does that mean he has to be a dick all the time?

You: You’re such an ass Hyunjin: Deny it all you want, but we both know you can’t keep your eyes off me Hyunjin: Not that I blame you You: It’s amazing your head still fits through doors Hyunjin: You’d be the first to notice if it didn’t

Your nostrils flare. No matter what you say, he always flips it back on you. Admittedly, you are a little tipsy, so you’re not fully on your game, but it’s still annoying as fuck. And right now, you really don’t need another reason to be frustrated.

You: Whatever, Hyunjinnie

You cast another glance at Hyunjin, delighting in the way he frowns at your response. He hates it when you call him that.

You take a moment to locate the rest of your friends. Changbin’s still sitting with Hyunjin. Jeongin and Chan are doing shots at the bar. Minho and Jisung are in their own little world on the dance floor, arms draped around one another. Neither Felix nor Seungmin seemed to have noticed that you have dropped out of their discussion. Part of you feels guilty for ignoring them, but, well, you’re a little fired up now, and the only thing that would make you feel better would be getting the last word in with Hyunjin for once.

You take a sip of your cocktail, floating the cold liquid on your tongue as you devise your next line of attack, when your phone buzzes again.

Hyunjin: I have another photo for you You: Why? Hyunjin: Because I think you’d like it You: Oh really? Like you know what I like Hyunjin: Always so argumentative Hyunjin: You’re pretty easy to figure out Hyunjin: The staring makes it incredibly obvious

Such an ass.

You: Fuck off Hyunjin: I will not You: What’s your game, man? Hyunjin: No game Hyunjin: Can’t I just do something nice for you?

The man is a riddle. An enigma draped in Versace.

You type out “I guess there’s a first time for everything” and press send, putting your phone down long enough to watch him get the text. Hyunjin laughs to himself, smiling down at his screen, and there’s this weird feeling of satisfaction in your stomach at the sight. Whatever, you like making people laugh, even assholes like him. So what.

You tell yourself that you’re not going to wait at his beck and call, jumping to read his texts as they come in, if in fact he keeps sending them, but then your phone vibrates again and you snap it up immediately, because you’re a liar.

Hyunjin: Just trust me Hyunjin: You want this Hyunjin: But I want something first You: Oh here we go You: There’s the catch A hand waves over your phone. “Hi, hello, are we boring you?”

Quickly, you turn it over before Seungmin can see your text thread. “No, sorry, I was just, uh - “

“Hey, leave her be,” your savior Felix says, pushing Seungmin lightly. “She’s had a rough couple of weeks. She shouldn’t have to suffer through your boring work stories, too.”

“Hey!”

Seungmin and Felix dissolve into arguing as you covertly flip your phone back over.

Hyunjin: I’m not asking much Hyunjin: Just a photo of you. A photo for a photo

He can’t be serious.

You: I’m not sending you a nude Hyunjin: Did I say nude? No, I did not Hyunjin: A normal selfie, that’s all

Again your suspicion rises. What is he playing at? Where is this going?

You: But WHY? Hyunjin: Maybe I can’t stop staring, either

Your breath catches in your throat. When you look up, he’s gazing at you again, but his expression is less smug than usual and more… ravenous.

You turn away so fast, your neck cracks.

Hyunjin: So? Send me a pic.

There’s no reason for you to agree to this. Absolutely no reason at all. Beyond, of course, your burning curiosity.

It’s really going to get you in trouble one day.

Grabbing your clutch, you slip off your chair. “Ladies room,” you announce, glancing at Felix and Seungmin, who aren’t listening anyway, still squabbling. You wander just far enough out of sight of your friends, find a spot with good lighting back near the bar (because even if it’s just for Hyunjin, your vanity will not let you take an unflattering photo), and snap a quick picture, firing it off right away.

As you’re sliding back into your seat, your phone vibrates. Hyunjin sent another photo.

You swallow reflexively. Holy shit. It’s a shot of his crotch, dress pants straining to contain what is clearly a massive cock, gripped through the fabric by long fingers.

Hwang Hyunjin sent you a dick pic.

So it’s not big dick energy, it’s just big dick, is the first coherent thought you have once the screeching inside your head stops. It occurs to you that you’ve been gawking unblinkingly at your phone for at least several minutes, so you raise your head to make sure your friends aren’t watching you, and thankfully they’re not. Really, you should know better than to underestimate just how much Felix and Seungmin love to bicker.

But what are you supposed to say to Hyunjin now? Your thumbs hover, waiting for inspiration, but you’re stuck.

Hyunjin: Wow, are you speechless? Hyunjin: Guess there really is a first time for everything

Even without looking, you know he’s smirking at you from across the room. Suddenly, you need another drink, so you mumble “bar” in Felix’s direction and stumble away. As the bartender mixes you another cocktail, you grip your phone tightly, waging an inner war with yourself.

You should look at the photo again. You shouldn’t look at the photo again. You should delete it, and Hyunjin’s number, and maybe throw the phone in the nearest trash bin too, just for extra comfort. But holy fuck, do you want to look at the photo again!

What you really don’t want is to think about the effect that photo has had on your pussy, because it’s humiliating how much she’s throbbing right now.

“I’ll take one of those as well, thanks.” A hand waves towards the bartender, and your treacherous brain immediately recognizes those fingers as the fingers from Hyunjin’s photo, and starts picturing what those lithe digits would look like wrapped around your throat. Great. Now your brain has joined your pussy. Traitors.

You say nothing as Hyunjin takes the seat next to you. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten under your skin again, albeit in a very different way, but also partly because you’re still not sure what to say.

“You know,” Hyunjin bends towards you, close enough for his warm breath to tickle your ear, “if I’d known that all it would take to get you to stop arguing with me was showing you my cock, I would’ve introduced you much sooner.”

“God, you are just - just the worst,” you snarl, teeth clenched hard enough to give you a headache.

“Now really, is that any way to speak to someone who just gave you a gift?” Hyunjin sips his drink calmly.

Well, there’s the Hyunjin you recognize. What you don’t understand is how he’s still making your cunt drip with need. All you can think about right now is what he’s hiding under those suit pants. Are you really this dumbstruck by cock?

(Yes. Yes, you are.)

“Me and every other woman in this club, I bet. You probably air dropped it to the whole room.” You wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe that was his plan the whole time - work you up then leave you begging while he hooked up with someone else. As if you’d beg.

“Oh no, that was just for you.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

With a roll of his eyes, Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “Come on. You know how selective I am when it comes to my clothes or my liquor. Why would I be any less selective about who I fuck?”

“Who you fuck?” Whoa, who said anything about fucking? Besides your duplicitous brain and pussy. “Who - who said - that’s not - I mean -” You’ve suddenly become the Big Bad Wolf, huffing and puffing, unable to form a complete sentence.

Hyunjin rises, leaning over you as you gaze up at him from your barstool. He places his hands on the bar, one arm on either side of you, bracketing you in, wild eyes trailing down your figure slowly before he smiles, hungry and sharp, and you realize, no, here’s the wolf.

“Listen, there’s no reason we can’t fuck. Friends fuck all the time.” His hand glides over your shoulder, light as a feather, and you watch dazedly as goosebumps ripple along your skin. His touch is electric.

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

Hyunjin shrugs, lips twisted in a droll smile. “Close enough. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You said it yourself - you’re in need.”

“What? When did - I never said that!” Again you struggle to speak coherently, sputtering in your confusion.

Hyunjin frowns. “Ah, you’re right, I misspoke. That was Felix who said that, wasn’t it? On the ride here?”

You curse inwardly, remembering the private discussion you and Felix had had on the way to the club, when you were discussing your dry spell. Or at least, it was supposed to be private, but obviously someone had been listening in. Felix had offered to play wingman for you, saying he wouldn’t let anything keep him from helping you “in your time of need” - a bit dramatic, but that was Felix for you.

You’d waved him off, insisting that you could snag someone without any help. But here you are, drowning your sorrows at the bar with no possibilities in sight. Maybe you should’ve accepted Felix’s help after all.

“That’s not…” Sighing, you shrug. There was no point in trying to deny what he’d heard. “Fine, yeah, I came here tonight hoping to leave with someone, but I didn’t mean you!”

“That’s because you didn’t know I was an option.” Again his gaze travels down your body, lingering like a slow caress. “But after seeing the way you look tonight, I had to offer myself up.”

Always. So. Cocky. You want to deny that his words have an effect on you. Want to. But can’t.

And like that, your resolve starts to slip.

“You really want to help me out?” you ask. He nods, irises blown as his eyes flicker to yours, and it puts fire in your belly, has you biting your lip in contemplation. “What makes you think you have what I need?”

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to check if any of your friends are watching as he steps closer, like he doesn’t care if anyone sees the way he cups your cheek. Or how he slides his thumb over your lips, dragging the bottom one down before lowering his mouth towards yours. He hangs there, just for a second - just long enough for you to tip your face up in a wordless answer.

His touch has nothing on his kiss. Your whole body thrums from head to toe, fizzing like the champagne on your tongue earlier, sweet and effervescent. His hand falls to your hip, squeezes there suddenly, and you feel a rush of heat between your thighs.

Hyunjin’s plush lips part, letting the tip of his tongue briefly nudge against yours before he pulls away, leaving you blinking dumbly. He lets out a low chuckle, gently wiping a drop of spit from your chin.

“I just know.”

You’re too busy licking the inside of your lips, hunting for any lingering trace of him, to respond.

“Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” His eyes dip to your mouth and back, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to make a move again. Needing him to. “Just think about it.”

And then he walks away, leaving you nearly toppling off your seat, floundering in his wake.

The ice cubes in your cocktail have all but melted by the time you remember you ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, you replay the last several minutes in your head. Did all of that just happen? Did Hyunjin really just offer himself to you? And then kiss you like that?

You feel like you’re going out of your mind.

“Just think about it.”

Hyunjin’s last words echo in your head as you wander on wobbly legs back towards the table where Felix and Seungmin are still standing.

And oh, god, do you think about it.

For the rest of the night, no matter how many conversations you have with your other friends, no matter how hard you dance, no matter what you do - the sole thought occupying your brain is what it would be like to fuck Hyunjin. Again and again, you picture him above you, beneath you, behind you, big cock stretching you out, making you scream his name.

But it’s not worth it to give in to him. It can’t be. Good dick - if it’s good - can’t be enough to undo all the annoying shit he does, can it?

You cut yourself off early in the night, explaining that someone needs to stay sober enough to call for rides, but really you’re afraid that if you get completely blitzed, you’ll end up admitting something you don’t want to admit and going home with Hyunjin. Your friends honor your noble sacrifice by achieving impressive levels of drunk, ranging from delightful (Felix repeatedly booping you on the nose, calling you his “widdle buddy”) to disastrous (Chan, who gets upset when the guy he hits on in the bathroom doesn’t respond - turns out he was hitting on his own reflection - before falling asleep in a stall).

Since the club is in the middle of downtown, you arrange for two cars to pick you and your friends up - one heading east, one heading west. Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin, and you pile into the ride heading west. Changbin hops into the passenger’s seat before you can slip in, leaving you smushed in the back between Hyunjin and Chan’s gigantic thighs.

Said thighs are splayed a bit as Chan’s head lolls back, a loud snore erupting out of him as the car makes its first stop outside Changbin’s apartment.

“Can’t take him anywhere,” Changbin grunts, snapping a rather unflattering photo of Chan sleeping with his mouth wide open, obviously saving it to drop in the group chat at the most opportune time. “Can you two make sure he gets home okay? I know it’s a bit out of the way, but, well, look at him.”

Chan continues to rumble like a fighter jet, unaware of everything going on around him.

“Yeah, don’t worry, we got him,” Hyunjin replies, and you just nod. “Night, ‘Bin.”

Changbin gives the driver Chan’s address and then he ducks out of the cab. Your place is technically the next closest, but getting Chan back to his place safe and sound is the priority.

With Chan sleeping next to you, it’s basically just you and Hyunjin alone now. A fact that has also occurred to Hyunjin, whose hand has been drifting further and further around your waist the entire ride. Now it slides around openly, tucking you against his side. You could fight it if you so desired - he’s not holding you tightly. He’s giving you the chance to escape.

You’re not sure you want to.

“Have you thought about it?” he murmurs, nose against your ear.

Your body reacts to the tone of his voice, thighs rubbing together, as you nod.

“And what did you decide?”

“I - I don’t know.”

A puff of air tickles your skin as he laughs derisively. “Do you really need some convincing?”

Chan snuffles loudly, reminding you that there’s another person right next to you, since your entire focus is on Hyunjin, and the way his hand is now creeping beneath the open back of your dress, and slowly moving up your rib cage.

When he cups your left breast, you stifle a gasp. But you can’t stop the tiny “ah!” that escapes when he gently pinches your nipple. You attempt to cover it with a cough, hoping the driver’s lack of visible response means he didn’t hear you. Meanwhile, next to you, Chan doesn’t stir.

“Feel good?” Hyunjin coos quietly. “Must’ve felt good, given the way you’re squirming right now.”

Your hips have started to rock of their own volition. Brain, hips, pussy, all on your shit list.

“But just think how much better it’ll feel when it’s my mouth.” His tongue flicks the shell of your ear before he sucks your earlobe into his warm mouth. A preview of what’s to come. It makes you squirm even harder, dying for any sort of relief for the aching between your legs.

Remarkably, you manage to speak, hissing, “You’re a demon.”

Hyunjin laughs. “You’ve no idea.”

His hand stays where it is until the car pulls up at the curb outside Chan’s house. It takes a minute for the two of you to wake Chan, then another minute for him to realize where he is, then yet another minute for him to slide out of the car. Hyunjin sighs and also climbs out of the cab to make sure Chan gets into his house safely.

When Hyunjin returns, the driver glances in the rearview mirror. “So, one more stop, or two?”

You blink at the question. The air in the cab feels heavy with implication. Hyunjin says nothing, but looks at you expectantly, and you understand - the choice is yours.

You glance at your hands, as if they’ll help you choose. Your watch informs you that it’s 2:12 in the morning. Don’t they always say not to trust any decisions you make after two am?

When the driver clears his throat a little too loudly, Hyunjin’s fingers grip your chin.

“Well? You heard him - one stop or two?”

You meet his gaze, surprised to find a fire burning in his eyes.

Maybe you’d be a fool to run towards it, seeking warmth where there might only be danger.

Fine, then. You’re a fool.

“One.”

With a satisfied grin, Hyunjin gives the driver his address.

You’re a little tense during the elevator ride up to Hyunjin’s apartment. Hyunjin, on the other hand, looks completely relaxed, quietly leaning against the wall with his normal blasé expression on his face. Like you’re not about to cross a boundary here that you never expected to cross. Like this was inevitable.

As soon as you’re both inside and his door is locked, he turns to face you, and you suck in a deep breath, waiting impatiently for him to touch you again.

Instead, he asks, “Do you want some water?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

He must read confusion on your face - at least, you hope it looks like confusion and not disappointment - because the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile.

“A few questions first,” he says, walking into his kitchen, sliding his suit jacket off as he goes. “Are you in good health?”

“Am I - am I in good health?”

Hyunjin tuts. “I’d ask if you need me to repeat myself but clearly you heard the question.”

You stare at his back, brows furrowing as you decipher his meaning. “Are you asking if I’ve been tested recently? Yes, I have been. Nothing to report.”

“Good, me too,” he replies, yanking his tie off and tossing it onto the counter before opening the fridge and grabbing you both a bottle of water. He eyes you as he opens his. “Are you on birth control?”

“Is this what you’re like on a date? Does your foreplay always involve interrogating your partner with clinical questions?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He tilts his head back as he drinks, so he doesn’t catch the glare you shoot his way. “Answer the question.”

“Yes, dick, I’m on birth control.” You take a swig of your water. The memory of his touch in the taxi is fading more and more with every second that passes. With a clearer head, you’re starting to question if you’ve made the right choice.

“Good,” he repeats, wiping his mouth. “I prefer to fuck raw.”

You clench around nothing at the thought, but scowl anyway. “What about what I prefer?”

Hyunjin just hums, fingers brushing your cheek before they tap under your chin. “Do you want me to use a condom?” There’s no drollness or sarcasm to his tone. He’s genuinely asking.

“No.” Your pride takes a tiny hit at the way you answer him immediately, without hesitation.

Just as quickly as his gentle tone came, it disappears again, vanishing as Hyunjin flashes a smug smile. “That’s what I thought.”

“That’s what - oh fuck off.” There he is again, that cocky asshole. Reflexively, you curse at him, ready to fight. “Fuck you, you don’t know anything about me.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that I do? You’re so easy to read.”

“Really?” Okay then. You’ll call his bluff. “Go ahead, Hyunjinnie. Tell me what I like.”

He rolls his eyes. His fingers make quick work of his cufflinks, setting them on the granite top beside him, and he slides his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms beneath.

“Well, for starters, you love getting under my skin with that infantile nickname.”

“No shit. Everyone knows that.”

“You live for arguing, especially with me. Can’t let a single sentence go by without snapping back.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re always wrong.”

Hyunjin doesn’t take the bait, merely leans back against the counter, examining you so openly that you feel exposed, so you cross your arms, as if that will help you block his penetrating gaze. He takes a few seconds before speaking again.

“No, it’s not that. Though I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself. If it were, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

He speaks so calmly, so self-assuredly. It’s maddening, even though you’re burning with curiosity. Makes you want to know more, so you press him again. “Okay, then - what is it? Why am I here?”

“Because you wanted someone to take control.” He spreads his arms wide. “And here I am.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know. You want someone else to be in charge. Make the decisions. Do the work for you. Then fuck you so hard that all those thoughts just fly right out of that pretty little head of yours.” He says it all so matter-of-factly, like it’s completely evident, your deepest desires laid bare for all to witness.

You want to dismiss his words, act like he’s so far off the mark that he’s on another planet, but you’re too surprised by his answer to respond with anything other than stunned silence. His arrogant smile returns. Clearly he was expecting you to fight, so your lack of a snappy comeback only confirms to him that he’s right.

“Just look at what you’re wearing,” he continues. “That tight dress screams ‘please fuck me stupid!’ Lucky for you, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

You find your voice. “Oh, now you’re judging my clothing? And - and slut shaming me?”

“Please. I’m always judging your clothing. But it’s a taste thing, not some sort of moral judgment.” He smirks. “And I’m very supportive of sluts, thank you.”

As he sips his water, you replay the entire evening in your mind. Sending you the photos. Kissing you. Making the offer. Fuck. He really did do the work for you tonight. Was there ever a chance you were going to say no? Judging by Hyunjin’s attitude, this moment was never in doubt. He knew you’d end up here with him.

The other realization that dawns on you is - you’re not mad about any of that. The only thing you’re mad about is that, once again, he’s right about something. And he knows it.

Okay. Fine. You want to be fucked stupid. But does he have to be so fucking rude about it??

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

He suddenly steps towards you. His expression is so intense that you move without thinking, backing all the way into the fridge. Your heart feels like it might burst through your ribcage at the slightest provocation, breath leaving your lungs in tiny exhalations as his thumb ghosts your cheek.

Not because you’re scared. Because you’re excited.

“Tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”

Hyunjin says the words softly, but there’s a firmness to his gaze that makes you swallow hard.

Your lips don’t move.

He kisses you. Wraps his hands around your waist, pulls you to his demanding mouth, head turning this way and that as his lips crash onto yours.

You kiss him back. Just as greedily, just as deeply.

His hand strokes your thigh. “Tell me you don’t want me to touch you.”

You make no noise.

His fingers crawl beneath your skirt, dancing over the silk of your underwear. Your gasp warms his tongue. A throaty growl chokes him.

“So wet for me.” He brings his hand up to show you the evidence, skin glistening. As if you didn’t already know.

He surges forward, pinning you to the fridge, mouth blazing a trail from your ear to your neck as his fingers press into your soaking slit.

“Ah, Hyunjin!” you whimper, clutching wildly at his bicep. The swell of his arm bulges as his fingers slowly search your inner walls, like they’re mapping every inch of you. When they trace over your g-spot, they linger, brushing again and again. “Oh my god!”

“Tell me,” he implores, husky voice breaking, like he’s barely in control, “tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you don’t want this - don’t want me - and I’ll call you a ride and we’ll never talk about this again.”

His forehead bumps yours, eyes smoldering with bright intensity, hand still plunging.

This time, you speak, chest heaving as you gasp for air.

“Don’t - don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

A smile spreads across Hyunjin’s face. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, the other hand still working between your thighs. You moan, feeling his erection digging into your hip as he presses himself against you, holding you firmly in place while he adds a third finger to the two already fucking you open.

“Say it,” he commands, mouth wet and hot on your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want, oh, fuck, I, I want you to fuck me, Hyunjin.”

In an instant, he’s disentangled himself from you, and you can’t help but whine very loudly at the sudden loss of his fingers. Hyunjin just smirks at your naked desperation, spinning you around so you’re in front of him.

“Come on,” he says, lightly pinching your ass to make you move. You yelp, smacking him on the arm, but he just laughs. “I’m not fucking you in here. Let’s go.”

“Asshole,” you curse, but you go anyway, because all you want is for him to touch you again, and if he’s refusing to do it in here, then why would you want to stay? You’re going wherever his hands go.

Maybe you should feel ashamed, for giving in so easily. But you don’t. All you feel is desire. This is what you want. What you need.

Hyunjin’s fingers press lightly on the small of your back as he guides you down the hallway to his bedroom. It’s just as ostentatious as the rest of his place - expensive-looking light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, dark leather headboard and frame for his gigantic bed, which is covered in piles of plush-looking blankets and pillows. There’s a gorgeous painting taking up most of the wall above his bed.

He doesn’t give you much time to admire the room, because as soon as you’re in front of the bed, he spins you again, hands reaching for the zipper of your dress, sliding it to the ground, leaving you standing there in nothing but your panties. Before you can tell him to stop pushing you around, he’s kissing you fervently, like he’s been dying the entire time his mouth has been away from yours these last few minutes, and suddenly you forget that you’re irritated.

Hyunjin backs you onto the bed, breaking away from your lips long enough to urge you to move towards the headboard, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the side as he follows. When his fingers grab for his belt, they find yours already there, making short work of the buckle. He groans in delight, deciding to use his hands to grope your bare breasts while you unzip his pants.

“Can’t wait to see it in real life, huh?” he asks, dragging his thumbs over your nipples. He chuckles when you just whimper, back arching slightly to encourage him to keep touching you.

The truth is, yes, you can’t wait to see Hyunjin’s massive dick, but more importantly, you can’t wait to feel it inside you, so you continue with your task, pushing his pants and boxers down together. And god, what a cock it is, long and thick and positively darkened with need. Smeared drops of excitement coat the head, and the sight makes your mouth water.

He rises up to kneel between your legs, grabbing his cock with one hand and giving it a few lazy pumps. “Well? Don’t tell me you’re speechless again.”

“Goddamn it,” you huff in exasperation, “you’re the fucking worst.” But you can’t stop staring as he gently squeezes the head, making a pleased noise, relieving himself a little while he watches you writhe in impatience.

“You’ll be singing a different tune in a moment, sweetheart.”

Your nose wrinkles at how easily ‘sweetheart’ drips off his tongue. “Just put it in me already,” you demand, leaning back on your elbows, licking your lips as you peer up at him, trying to send a blatant “fuck me!” signal with every inch of your body.

Hyunjin tuts, lifting one of his gorgeously thick eyebrows. “Right to it? Is that what you really want?” In one swift motion, he hooks a finger under your panties and drags them down and off. It’d be a more impressive move if anyone but him were doing it.

“I just… I thought we were gonna fuck?” Isn’t that what you’re here for?

“Of course we are. But is that how you typically do it? No foreplay, no build up?” His fingers rake down your stomach, trail over your thighs, causing your body to twitch with shivers. “That doesn’t sound like any fun at all.”

It’s not how you’d prefer to do this, no. You’re just surprised that he agrees. So you say nothing in reply, visibly closing your mouth while he maneuvers you into position, pushing your legs up so your knees bend, your thighs meeting your stomach, completely exposing your cunt to him.

“That’s better. Just let me play with you a little first, sweetheart. I promise you’ll like it.”

Your instinct is to argue with him, tell him he has no idea what you’d like, but you’ve already done that tonight. And you were wrong. So again, you bite your tongue.

Until he extends his own, letting a string of spit fall onto your pussy.

“Ew, Hyunjin!” You’re disgusted, but not with him. Why do you find that so hot?

“Too much?” he inquires, letting go of your legs as he glances at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a real expression of concern on his face before. It rattles you slightly.

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “No - keep going.”

He nods, hands reaching for your thighs again. “If I hit any hard no’s for you, say something, and I promise I’ll stop, okay?”

“I will.”

He bows over you again, licking a straight line up your slit. With a moan, you let your head drop back against the pillows. His mouth feels absolutely divine.

Where others in the past just dove in, Hyunjin takes his time. He drags his tongue around slowly, licking through your soaking folds, tasting you. It reminds you of the way you’d seen him drink a really fine whisky, holding it in his mouth, quietly identifying every note, every flavor. Relishing, instead of rushing.

When his lips brush over your clit, leaving teasing kisses, you moan. Hyunjin hums, a self-satisfied little rumble, and lifts his head. “See? Told you you’d like this.”

“Please, shut up and suck my clit.” It’s meant to be an order but definitely sounds like a pathetic whine. Whatever, as long as he listens.

He listens. Those plush lips that you can’t stop yourself from staring at roll over your already throbbing little nub and warm pleasure runs down your spine before pooling in your belly. His dark hair keeps falling in his face, obscuring him from your view, and for some reason you can’t have that. Tentatively, you reach out, hand shaking a little.

Hyunjin hums when your fingers slide through his soft locks, pushing the strands back, holding them in place so you can see his eyes, the way they squeeze shut when he sucks noisily on your clit. The sounds he makes are so loud, completely uninhibited, moaning and grunting as his lips smack and his tongue laps.

He uses said tongue to fuck you expertly, his movements so confident, so sure. He reads every quiver, listens to every moan, figures out how to work you up with quick, teasing shallow plunges, before slowing it down, going deeper, tongue brushing your walls like he’s speaking a language only your body understands.

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

His mouth parts from you long enough for him to speak. “There it is. There’s the tone I was looking for. Enjoy this, sweetheart. I know I am.”

You’re enjoying it so much that you unexpectedly whimper when he stops again a moment later, feeling a little embarrassed as he exhales a quiet laugh into your warmth. “Just hold on,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up your slit to pass over your clit again and again, before sliding a finger into your clenching hole.

“Ohhhh.”

The combination is so good, his finger filling you while his mouth suctions to you, that your eyes flutter shut. He pulls out and glides back in, all the way to his knuckles in one smooth motion, your wet folds parting so easily for him. He’s done an amazing job of spreading your slickness around, coating your inner thighs, messing his bed beneath you.

“Gonna make you come,” Hyunjin says, spreading you open with two fingers now. “Need you to come before I can fuck you just like you want. Can you do that for me?”

The tension in your gut tells you that that shouldn’t be a problem. Both fingers have curled inside you, stroking over your soft spot, making you pant, clutching Hyunjin’s satin sheets for dear life.

“Hy-Hyun-”

Before you can even finish saying his name, the tension snaps, nerves firing from your cunt to your toes, causing your legs to lock up. Hyunjin groans, moving his hands to grasp at your thighs, trying to loosen their squeeze.

“Easy, sweetheart, don’t take me out just yet.” When your body finally starts to relax, he grins. “There we go. Good girl.”

If this were any other time, you’d snap at him for dropping that pet phrase on you. But you’re too blissed out at the moment, practically purring as he starts to kiss his way up your torso.

When he reaches your breasts, he joins you, a low rumble sounding from the back of his throat. His nose nuzzles between them, as he leaves loud kisses on their swelling curves.

Another thing Hyunjin isn’t wrong about - his mouth feels much better than his fingers do on your nipples, tongue gliding like warm velvet against the pert nubs. You continuously moan, until you’re nearly panting, fingers once again finding his dark locks and threading themselves between.

“How am I doing, sweetheart?” he murmurs.

“Good.” It doesn’t even occur to you to tell him anything but the truth. “So good, Hyunjinnie. Ah!” You flinch as he suddenly nips the other nipple, teeth clamping gently. “Why?!”

“You and that damn nickname. I must not be doing enough if you’re still calling me that.” He rises onto his knees, shaking his head. “Guess I just gotta fuck it out of you.”

And just like that, you feel that spark again.

“Sure you will, Hyunjinnie,” you simper, voice dripping with honey, so sickeningly-sweet as you coo his name. It has the desired effect, making Hyunjin’s eyes flash.

He reaches for you, pulling you up into his lap, before you can so much as breathe. “You doubting me, sweetheart?” His hands press into your hips, urging you down on him. Both of you groan as his cock slides along your cunt, and the sparks inside you ignite.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you spit back, feeling that familiar sense of agitation, but it’s not annoyance now, it’s anticipation.

“And I’m not really yours, but let’s play pretend for the night,” he drawls, and you look at him with wide eyes, but he kisses away the wonder on your face, working you up with teeth and tongue, until you’re frenzied with need. Your fingers clutch at his biceps, nails sinking in to tether him closer.

His hands on your waist guide you down again. As his cockhead breaches your lips, you keen, head falling forward onto his shoulder.

“Holy fuck,” you gasp. The stretch is delicious, cunt already throbbing around his thickness.

Both of you freeze when you’re fully seated on him, no sounds in the room but the rhythmic cadence of your panting intertwining with his.

“You know,” Hyunjin speaks through grit teeth, focused on the spot where your bodies join, “we could’ve been doing this a long, long time ago.”

You don’t know what to say to that. How long has he wanted this? You’re not sure the exact answer for yourself, except that it’s longer than you’d ever truly want to confess.

“Maybe - maybe if you weren’t such a - oh, oh, oh!” Your lame attempt at a retort is lost to the rapid snapping of Hyunjin’s hips when he starts to thrust up into you. There’s nothing you can do but bounce in his lap, clinging to his shoulders as he finally fucks you just as hard as he’d promised. “Hyunjin, please!”

Hyunjin grunts, perspiration trickling down his forehead as he concentrates on giving you what you wanted. His jaw flexes, brows drawn together in a frown, and even with this fierce expression on his face, he’s so beautiful that you can’t help yourself, diving forward to kiss that gorgeous mouth of his like you’ve always imagined, as if you weren’t just kissing him a few minutes ago, but like it’s the first time, tracing his lips with yours, imprinting the feeling of them against your own to store away in your memory for later.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His words are the oxygen you inhale, tongues pressed together like the pages of a book. “I think I prefer you this way. So needy for my cock.” He smirks. “Kinda want to keep you like this.”

He digs his fingers into the plump roundness of your ass as he grinds into you, sliding you back and forth. Your hips undulate, rolling you down on his big cock, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls.

“Hyu-hyu-hyun!”

It’s impossible to get an entire word out, given the pace at which Hyunjin’s strokes are jostling you. Your staccato cries get louder when he switches it up, laying you on your back and shoving a pillow under your hips. His thighs smack into your ass with every plunge of his thick length, and again you can do nothing but try to breathe, drowning in euphoria as you are.

“Yeah, you’re best just like this. Stuffed full of cock, no room for thoughts. Or arguments.”

“F-fuck!” You were trying to say ‘fuck off’ but Hyunjin chose that moment to thumb at your clit, giving the aching nub the friction it so badly needed. Your hips buck up, making Hyunjin groan.

“Just like that, so good for me.”

You whine involuntarily at his praise, hips lifting again, trying to take him deeper. Every stroke of his cock lights you up, your body tingling from head to toe. The strong thrumming in your gut is going to overtake you soon and you’re finally going to get what you’ve been needing for weeks now. And it’s Hyunjin of all people who is going to give it to you.

You’re pulled out of your reverie as Hyunjin suddenly pulls out, falling onto his side next to you.

“What are y- oh!” You gasp as he turns you on your side, facing away from him. One hand lifts your leg, sliding it back until your calf loops over his. Then he enters you again, and again, thrusting in deep, powerful movements. “Oh, fuck, goddamn.”

“That’s right,” he growls, arm beneath you bending, hand coming to a rest around your throat. Not squeezing, but holding you in place, back pressed to his front. You’re both covered in sweat, bodies gliding over one another, making it hard for him to keep his pace. So his fingers spread on your chest, locking you in place, giving him leverage to pound into you. “Take it, sweetheart. Take what I give you like a good girl.”

“Ahhh,” you moan, “don’t - don’t call me that.”

“No? You don’t like being praised?” Hyunjin releases his hold on your thigh, running his others fingers around where his cock keeps sliding between your lips. “Your pussy tells me another story. You’re soaking my sheets.”

“Nah - ah - not that, ’s not that.” With this slightly slower rhythm, you’re able to speak, but full sentences still seem hard. “Like praise. Hate - hate good girl.”

“Ohhh, I see.” Hyunjin laughs breathily. “I should’ve known. You’re too proud. Think it makes you look weak if I call you that? Hmm?”

Even in your desperate state, you know he’s not far off from the truth. You don’t want him calling you that, because it feels like giving in to him. Letting him take control completely. Possessing you. His good girl.

The real, honest to god truth is - you can’t let him call you that, because you do want it. And you hate how much you want it.

So you deny it. Or at least, you try to. But all you can stutter is a weak “You’re s-such a d-dick,” as he continues snapping his hips into your ass, making your entire body jiggle in his strong grip.

Hyunjin drops an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, wet and sloppy. You curl your fingers into his arm as you sense that you’re approaching the precipice of your orgasm. You can tell that it’s going to be an intense one, one of those climaxes that clears your mind of all thought and leaves you literally shaking in ecstasy. Just as he’d promised.

You do appreciate a man who follows through on his promises.

Hyunjin must feel the way you’re starting to clench around him, groaning into your shoulder. “Ahh, I think this little cunt’s trying to tell me something again, sweetheart. You gonna come for me? Hmmm?” His fingers rub over your clit, the sudden touch making you jolt. “Come on, be a good girl and c-”

Twisting your head, you smash your nose into his cheek, clumsily seeking his mouth. Cutting him off with heated kisses, hoping he’ll interpret it as annoyance fueling your actions and not see it for what it truly is - untamed desire.

A strangled cry passes from Hyunjin’s lips into yours, and with one more tweak to your clit, you come undone. Your body locks up, thighs going rigid, cunt clamping around his cock so fiercely that Hyunjin hisses loudly, forehead resting on the nape of your neck.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” he whispers in your ear. Sweat drips from his skin onto yours. “You’re gonna make me come. Is that what you want?”

You can’t answer. You’re gone, completely gone, beyond words, capable of making only the most broken, pathetic sounds, wantonly mewling as slowly grinds into you, cock rubbing against your clenching walls. When your legs start to go slack, he resumes his thrusting, but at a languorous pace, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to go easy on you now that you’re approaching overstimulation, or if he’s trying to slow himself down.

“I think it is what you want. I think you want me to fill this little pussy up with my cum, don’t you? Hmm?” His nose prods at your cheek. “A sweet creampie for my good girl?”

The whine that you let you out is pitifully loud. White hot shame spikes through you, but only for a second, the emotion quickly burnt away by your fervent need.

“Come on, tell me. Tell me you want it.”

“Ahhh!” You gasp as his cock sinks in deeper, hitting your g-spot. It’s almost too much, the delicious drag, and your fingers dig into his arm, nails sinking into his skin. “Fuck!”

“Tell me,” he says again, but this time there’s a plea laced into the command, a desperate edge in his tone that strikes a chord somewhere deep inside you, and suddenly you want to give him anything he needs.

“Hyunjin, I want it, p-please!”

Those are the magic words. Hyunjin groans, his hips falling out of their slow rhythm, jerking erratically as he does exactly what he said, shooting his load deep inside you, moaning your name the entire time. You grip the sheets so hard, you’re afraid you’ll tear them, shoving your hips back against his, riding out his climax with him.

“Pussy’s sucking me dry, sweetheart. So greedy,” he pants, trailing kisses along your neck. “Think it wants more.”

“Hyunjin!” You sob his name again, voice breaking. All it takes is his fingers pinching at your clit and you’re coming again, stomach twitching, breath leaving your body in one big rush.

When your body stops trembling, Hyunjin finally slips out of you, his hand falling away from your cunt. He lets out a tired laugh.

“You can take your nails out of my arm. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh.” Your neck burns a little in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were still holding on to him so tightly, unconsciously keeping him in place. Keeping him close to you. You relax your grip, and he slides his arms around you further, locking you into his embrace.

It’s… nice, being in Hyunjin’s arms. Really nice. Lying there, in your messy, tired state, you feel rather content.

But the longer you lie there, just breathing together, not speaking, your head starts to fill with thoughts again. Questions. The most pressing being, at what point is he going to kick you out? Because despite everything that just happened, he’s still Hyunjin, and you’re still you, and -

“It’s already started.” Hyunjin hums, lightly shaking you. “I can hear you thinking again.”

Your reflexes kick back in. “It’s just what I do. You should try it some time.”

To your surprise, Hyunjin starts to laugh. You roll over, nose bumping his as you give him a curious look.

“What?”

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” He brushes a finger over your cheek. “You’ve got a fighter’s instinct. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to fight me all the time?”

You stare at him as you try to make sense of the rather casual confession of admiration he just dropped. Nope. Can’t. Not right now.

“I…” You pause. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.”

He smiles, something genuine that slowly shifts into his familiar smirk, and even as spent as you are, you feel a stirring inside you. “Guess we need to work on that.”

In the morning, you might regret what you say next. But the night’s not over yet. “Maybe you just didn’t fuck me stupid enough yet.”

Hyunjin accepts your challenge with a kiss.

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

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Taglist: @scoupsjin; @aznstoner; @yourtmblrgirlfriend; @hyunlvrs; @notevenheretbh1; @chrisbangsgalaxy; @dessianna1

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz imagines #skz x you #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids x you #fic: yours for the night

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latimeria-fell-from-heaven · 2 years ago

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⌗︙・ sneaking off with caelus for quickies ♡⸝⸝

Caelus is sometimes too horny for his own good, golden eyes filled with nothing but debaucherous visions as he undresses you with his eyes. When he wasn't fighting alongside you or running around completing missions left and right, he'd come up with some half-assed excuse regarding the Antimatter Legion before dragging you off to some unoccupied corner and fulfilling his lewd fantasies. He was a pure menace, groping your ass from behind just out of view from the others, frustrating you to no end when he refused to touch you any further. Not at least until you found an opportunity to sneak off.

But you were no saint, not with how you sloppily drooled all over his cock as he fucked your throat, or how eagerly you'd grind down onto his pelvis as you rode him in the privacy of your room. But who could blame you for acting in such a desperate way? Caelus' cock was just so good, fat head and length pressing against your walls in all the right ways that had you cumming rather embarrassingly quickly. He'd always cum in thick, creamy globs that painted your insides white and left your belly feeling warm and heavy. He was a fast learner, learning each of your weak spots with a scarily quick eagerness that left you breathless.

So it wasn't really too much of a surprise with how often you snuck away on missions just to fuck in some unlit alleyway.

"They're probably looking for us... I bet they're worried since we've been gone for a while. We should.. we should really hurry up. " You huff, raising your head to look at Caelus, his face mere inches from yours. He takes a gulp of air before nodding in agreement, no doubt having the same concern as you.

"Yeah... March is probably dragging Dan Heng by the ear.." His brow furrows, looking simultaneously troubled and amused at the thought of the former dragging around the stoic male as if he were some sort of rag doll.

Even if the two of you are sharing the same concern, it was clearly juxtaposed by neither one of you making the effort to wrap up your little activity as quickly as possible. Although, little activity was a bit of a damn understatement when you had Caelus' cock sheathed inside your hole, back against the dingy wall of the alleyway as he moves his hips against yours over and over. Your arms and legs are locked around his body, doing your best to keep from falling and sliding down the wall. But Caelus has a good grip on your ass—he's a lot stronger than he looks—and his hips sure aren't going to be slowing down anytime soon.

"Fuuuck, s'so deep, so fucking good.." You whine into his neck, biting back a moan as his balls smack noisily against your skin. He's got so much vigor in each of his thrusts, pelvis pressed as close as possible to yours in such a confined position. You don't know how long the two of you have been at this, but you know it's long enough to have his cum leaking out, staining the ground below in gooey droplets. "Fuck me—ooh!—right there, right there, fuck me harder—oh god!"

Caelus chokes out a moan—you were so fucking tight—sucking in a shaky breath as he continues to pound into you. "Didn't you just tell me to hurry up? What changed your mind? Do you like my dick that much?" You can hear the smirk in his voice, though it wavers with each flutter and pulsing of your walls around his length. God he was such a little shit.

"Just shut up already.." You slam your lips against his without warning, moaning in a mix of relief and ecstasy. He makes a slight noise of surprise, but, given how often you'd dodge his postcoital affections, you don't blame him. But right now, you could care less if he happens to get to the wrong idea about you kissing him—or perhaps, a small part of you deep down wants Caelus to get the wrong idea.

The two of you melt into the kiss, teeth gnashing noisily and tongues entangling and rubbing up against one another as you both cling onto each other. Soon, drool begins to streak across your lips and chin—fuck, kissing Caelus felt so damn good, why didn't you do it before?—as warm pressure builds up in your lower stomach. His plush tip keeps pushing up against your oversensitive walls, the pulsing veins on the side of his cock stimulating you further and further.

But soon the lack of oxygen proves to be too much, and the messy kiss is broken apart. Strings of saliva stick to your tongue, but a bolt of pleasure shoots through you and you rest your head against the wall of the alley. With your neck exposed to him, you whine his name repeatedly like a chant, his entire being overwhelming you in waves.

"Caelus, Caelus, Caelus, Caelus...!"

Caelus' hips give a final thrust, the veins on his fat cock twitching and pulsing as he spills himself inside of your walls until even more droplets begin to ooze out. Reflexively, he immediately starts kissing your neck, mouth sloppily fitting against your rapid pulse, but this time you don't stop him. It feels ticklish, but surprisingly helping in lowering you from your high. He doesn't pull out until he's pumped out every last drop, although the way your walls clamp around him ends up squeezing out a few more drops anyways. You both shudder, the sudden emptiness in you and the lack of warmth around him a bit too much.

As if on cue, the cum that hadn't been oozing from your hole thanks to Caelus plugging you up nice and tight, now trickles out. A part of you is disappointed to not have it stay deep inside, but you're too out of it to do anything about it.

Your legs begin to slip, but Caelus seems to notice and aids in lowering you down. As soon as your feet touch the ground, you nearly double over but he catches you, choosing to lean you against him for support. With your head against his chest, you can feel the warmth of his body, each inhale and exhale he takes, and the beating of his heart.

The alleyway is filled with soft pants, concealed from any prying eyes. Like your own little world, just the two of you. It's... rather nice in a way.

"We're... we're gonna continue this when we get back to the Express, got it?" Of course you will. The two of you are as horny as rabbits, and quickies would only keep you both temporarily satisfied. But you could bet that if he found the opportunity, he'd sneak into your room. Again. "My back's killing me, I think you just scraped off my damn skin... I'd like my back to remain injury-free while getting dicked down thank you very much."

"Fine by me. I'd prefer to fuck you on your bed anyway." He snorts in amusement, a sliver of a smirk on his lips as he playfully squeezes your ass. You squeak and flinch at the ticklish sensation, to which he chuckles. "Not that I've got anything against doing this in an alleyway. It's actually kinda hot."

"Shut up and help me put my underwear back on."

#lati thirsts #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #caelus x reader #caelus smut #hsr caelus x reader #hsr caelus smut #caelus #hsr caelus

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discordantwritings · 7 months ago

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Practice Makes Perfect (Katakuri x Reader)

Warnings: gn AFAB! Reader, Reader is normal human size, virgin! Katakuri, some feelings, size difference, big giant ass size difference, it’s basically monsterfucking, oral, premature ejaculation, grinding, frottage

WC: 5.2k

Summary: Katakuri is worried about his lack of experience in the bedroom should he get married off by his mother. You, a kind and concerned friend, are here to help him out.

Notes: this was supposed to be just a little warm up……. Oh well

Tagging: @keiva1000

While neither of you nor Katakuri would say it out loud you were both the closest thing either of you had to a friend. You didn’t verbalize it since it would be improper- you were one of the few high ranking pirates in the Big Mom Pirates that wasn’t a part of the family so you knew your position was precarious. Katakuri had his reputation to think of so you never blamed him for his occasional distance. But in the precious moments you two got alone, both of you relaxed just a little bit.

Like now.

“And that’s all the reports from the morning. Any news from your breakfast with Big Mom?” You sat on the edge of Katakuri’s desk, the only spot in his office that made it so neither of you had to strain your neck to look at each other.

“No new movements of changes to current plans.” Katakuri answers, his slightly muffled voice through his scarf as always but there was something in the way he answered that gave you pause.

“Was there something else?” You know how much he loves his mom- but everyone knows that she can be beyond overbearing.

“She says she wants me to be happy.” Katakuri sighs and you immediately understand the situation.

Everyone knows Big Mom is obsessed with growing her family. And while Katakuri is spared some of the overbearing pushing of his mother due to how much responsibility he took on- Big Mom still wants to see her darling commander in a happy relationship. But for someone like Katakuri finding someone casually isn’t an option and you know how long he’s been pushing back from an arranged marriage.

“Well, it might be nice?” You offer, but you both can easily tell you’re just trying to make him feel better.

“It’s not like I don’t want something like that…” He pulls on the overlap of his scarf, securing it even further on his face. “I just don’t want to force someone to be with me.”

“I know it’s not a great situation but anyone would be lucky to be married to you.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “You’re one of the kindest people I know. I’m sure you would make a wonderful husband.”

It isn’t until you see a blush creep over the edge of his scarf that you realize you might have gone a little too far. It was all honest- perhaps too honest- but you should know better than to be so upfront with him. Despite his cold exterior he’s incredibly soft underneath and the few times you’ve complimented him he’s practically ran away.

“Ah- well-“ You watch him flounder and decide to help out.

“I mean all of your siblings who have had their marriages arranged and that’s worked out pretty well for them! Sure it might take some getting used to but this is a really nice place to live.” You take the heat off of him and watch him relax a bit, still buried more than usual in his scarf.

“I guess…” From his voice you can tell there’s a bit more going on but you decide not to push him just yet.

“Well I have to get going and take these reports but I’ll be back later for the evening debrief?” You grab the reports sized for normal humans and slide off his desk, landing with a small thud.

“Yes, of course.” You can’t see his mouth but you can see the smile in his eyes as you wave goodbye.

You don’t stop thinking about Katakuri having an arraigned marriage for the rest of the day. Big Mom has clearly been bringing it up more recently and as much as you also wanted him to be happy you couldn’t help but feel a certain sadness whenever it was brought up. He was the one person you felt even remotely comfortable around and him getting a partner might disrupt the small world the two of you shared.

Of course, you couldn’t have a crush on your commander. There’s few things that would be worse than that. It would be catastrophic if you pictured yourself with him, spending time in his large embrace, sharing food, seeing what was under that scarf…

So, of course, those are things that are not happening. And even if they were to happen it’s unrealistic for so many reasons. Not only the fact that he was a commander but- well- he was big and you were not. Sometimes you forget that you’re an average size person when you spend your days with the Charlotte family. There’s no way Katakuri would want someone basically a third his size.

You though?

Well you wouldn’t mind being with someone basically triple your size.

It’s shameful the way your mind wanders when you look at his massive hands or the way you’re directly in eye line of his broad chest when you sit on his desk. The way he could overtake you in every sense of the word-

Your body had carried you back to Katakuri’s office for your evening debrief while your head swam with thoughts you quickly shoved deep down as you knocked on his door. Katakuri’s voice calls for you to come in and you really really hope observation haki can’t secretly be used for mind reading.

You take the ladder specifically set for you up to his desk, laying out the fresh reports for him. “Nothing noteworthy, just resupply requests and normal Marine movement.”

“Mhm…” Katakuri looks through the papers but you can tell his eyes are glazing over the words and not actually reading them.

“And tomorrow is a quiet day, just a few meetings that everyone will come to you for.”

“Ok.” He’s still staring at the paper that you know has no interesting information on it.

“Katakuri?”

“Mhm.”

“Katakuri!” You yell, not out of anger but just to get his attention- and it works.

“Ah- sorry- I was just… thinking.” He sets the papers down, adding them to a stack on the corner of his desk.

“You’re not still worried about this arranged marriage thing are you?”

“I… yes I am.” He admits, eyes looking shamefully to the side.

“We talked about this- I know it’s not the best but it’s not like you’ll be holding someone hostage.” You offer, sliding closer to him in an effort to get him to look at you.

“I understand that.” He sighs and finally glances back over to you.

“But?”

“But… it’s-“ He shakes his head and pulls up his scarf more. “Nevermind.”

“Katakuri.” You reach you and gently touch his forearm that’s laying on the desk next to you. “You can talk to me.”

You watch a blush creep up over his scarf at the touch but you don’t move your hand away. “It’s… I don’t want to be crass.”

Now that has you even more curious. “I won’t hold it against you. Besides, if it’s troubling you this much I want to help.”

“It’s- ah-“ He turns his gaze away again but does answer you. “I just have… no… experience.”

Ah.

Well.

Honestly, now that you’re thinking about it, it makes totally sense. Katakuri won’t even show his face to anyone and you’ve never seen him be casual with anyone besides very close family members or you. He was someone who took his duty very seriously so running off in his youth and having fun would be out of the question too.

“I’m sure the right person wouldn’t care about that.” You reassure him honestly.

“But there are certain expectations- and I can’t even be sure it would be the right person since I won’t have that much of a say-“ To hear a man of few words nervously ramble catches you off guard and makes you realize how painfully insecure he must be about this.

“Katakuri- hey-“ You lean into your hold on his arm.

“And- I mean there are only so many people in the world as tall as I am Mama was lucky enough to find people with comparable heights for everyone else but what if that isn’t an option-“

“There are ways to make it work.” Both of your hands are on his arm at this point, leaning to try and catch his gaze.

“And I could just accidentally hurt-“ He stops mid sentence as he processes what you said to him.

There a moment of painful silence as both of you catch up on your words. You’re probably blushing just as hard as Katakuri at this point, realizing where the conversation was headed.

“I mean- that-“ It was your turn to flounder, embarrassed that even a sliver of your thoughts had breached the surface. “There are… less than traditional ways to- never mind!”

You pat his arm and stand up, planning on leaving the desk and hoping you bash your head on the way down so you can forget this ever happened. However, as you’re about to do so Katakuri’s hand hovers in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. You don’t turn to look back at him but you can still hear him clearly.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but…” There’s a long pause and you turn to see him staring down at you, gaze surprisingly serious. “I would be indebted to you if you gave me some guidance.”

“Of course.” You answer before you can think yourself out of it. “What are friends for?”

There’s something that flashes behind his eyes at your words but you can’t read him before he’s awkwardly settling back into his hair and giving you space to sit down again. You sit back down, suddenly aware of just how hot your body has gotten.

It’s probably best to start easy. “So you haven’t- I mean I know you keep your face covered- have you ever kissed someone?”

“When I was really young, just some silly childhood stuff…” He’s back to not making eye contact with you, nose buried in the scarf. “But even kissing is…”

You’ve heard stories about what lays under his scarf- all sorts of tall tales that you’re sure aren’t true. You scoot closer to the edge of the desk.

“Can I see?” You ask softly- hopefully.

You watch his hand slowly creep up to his scarf, hesitating at the frayed edges. It’s unnatural to see him scared. You’ve watched him decimate hundreds of Marines without a change in expression- but here even you could notice the fear.

“Just don’t- please-“ You’re not sure what he’s asking but you nod knowing you would do anything for him.

He slowly pulls the scarf down and away from his face and it’s all too clear why he’s hidden that part of himself away. Large fangs rest at the corner of where his mouth should end but you see the thin line where his mouth continues close to his cheekbones. Despite how unnatural it is you can’t help but feel like it fits his face perfectly. The contrast of his pink blush against the sharp fangs is so perfectly him- nothing looks out of place. He’s watching your reaction closely, you can tell he’s using his observation haki from the way his eyes narrow but you don’t have to hide a single thing.

“Katakuri you’re perfect.”

You watch your honesty sink in with him, long moments of silence as he grows impossibly redder before he forces his gaze away to the ceiling.

“I guess- ah- well you can see why kissing would be a problem.” Thankfully he doesn’t move his scarf back up, content for now to tug at its ends nervously.

“Well…” You hum thoughtfully. “There would have to be some caution but I don’t think it’s a problem. Besides, if a person isn’t as big as you are then their mouth could fit right in between your bigger teeth.”

“I guess…” You watch him shift in his chair, occasionally glancing back over at you before refocusing back on a spot on the ceiling.

“So, see, nothing that can’t be worked around.” You nudge his knee with your foot, trying to make the air in the room less heavy.

“You’re right…”

There’s more quiet as the next part of the conversation looms, both of you knowing the real issues he was thinking about. You try not to be eager to talk about it, not wanting to push him too far and not wanting to come across as some pervert. You give him the space he needs and after a minute he speaks up again.

“I just don’t see a way around the… size problem.” His voice is quiet and breathy and you force yourself to ignore the heat rising in your stomach.

“There’s a lot that can be done without… insertion.” You cringe a little at your own word choice, but that was the least sexually charged term you could come up with.

“But I thought…” You see a small flash of embarrassed panic as his eyes dart back to you. “I mean- I’m aware of the other things! I just didn’t think that was, you know, enough…”

“It’s enough. More than enough if you know what you are doing.” Your gaze was locked on him and it seems like neither of you could look away anymore.

“Oh that’s… good to know. Very good.” You can feel your heartbeat in your ears as you fight to keep your face normal as he slowly responds. “I guess that I just… need to know what I’m doing.”

“And I’m sure that you would be receptive to learning.” You know that not all men are but you know that Katakuri would be.

“I like to think I would.”

The way he’s looking at you so intensely and speaking so softly- you throw caution to the wind.

“I can help you learn, if you want.”

“Please.” His response is so quiet you almost think you’re making it up in your mind but when his large hand softly runs over your leg you know it was real.

You nod, not trusting your voice in the moment as his hand travels to the outside of your thigh and his thumb rubs comfortingly into your side. He leans in, large face taking up your whole vision as he hesitates just a hair away from you.

“We should probably go to my room.” His breath fans over your face as he talks and you nod, even if your body is screaming that you need to touch him now. “Is it alright if I carry you?”

The idea makes you giddier than you care to admit. “I’d like that.”

He smiles down at you as he stands up, easily picking you up with one hand and holding you close to his chest. Instinctively you reach out to steady yourself against him, your hands finding his chest. Your face burns as you realize you’re practically groping his pec but that doesn’t stop you from leaning into his skin.

You’re thankful there’s no one in the halls between his office and his room, unsure how either of your would explain this situation. He quickly pushes into his room, locking the door behind him before gently setting you down on his large bed. As much as you try not to you’re right at eye level to stare at Katakuri’s crotch. His large bulge strains against his leather pants to the point it must be painful for him. Before you can fully process just how big his cock is you force your gaze up to his face where you find him watching you carefully. Smiling up at him you push yourself further up into the bed, settling your back against his large pillows.

“Come here.” You say softly and he follows your request automatically, crawling overtop of you.

You reach your hand up to hold his face and he leans into your hand. You don’t push him to go faster, letting him slowly adjust to your physical contact as he hovers above you, propped up on his elbows. His chest presses down into your legs, a comforting weight against your body.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, full of sincerity.

You nod and he slowly moves down, hesitating just before his lips touch yours. From there you close the gap, gently pressing your lips to his. Your mouth fits snuggly between his fangs, only the smooth outsides press into your cheeks. Katakuri is frozen against your mouth and after a few second you pull away and look up at him with concern.

“If you don’t want-“ Before you can get the rest of your sentence out he surges back down, eagerly pressing his mouth to yours again.

He’s clumsy as moves his lips against yours but he more than makes up for it in how enthusiastic he is. Katakuri isn’t pushy though, letting you take the lead as you mouth molds to his. You take it slow and steady as he learns to match your motions. He’s a quick study though and the both of you easily transition to him being in control of the kiss. You don’t pull away until your lungs force you to, gasping as he nuzzles your nose with his.

After you catch your breath you press one more quick kiss to his mouth before speaking. “How do you feel about kissing now?”

His wide mouth cracks into a smile. “I think I like it but I’m not quite sure yet…”

You giggle as he captures your mouth in a kiss again, now more confident in his movements. You let your hands tangle in his hair as you lose yourself in the kiss. Eventually he releases your mouth to press more kisses into your jaw and neck. You can’t stop the breathy moan that eases out of your throat at his actions as your hands pull at his hair. He clearly hears you because he stops in his tracks, darkened eyes glancing back up to you.

“Tell me what to do next.”

You nearly faint at how sincere he is- but at the same time there’s a nagging thought in the back of your mind that you might be using him. “If you lay on your back I can-“

“Tell me how to please you.” He shifts so his weight is held by one elbow, large hand running down your side.

“You don’t have to do that.” You say, barely clinging onto your reservations.

“Please let me.” Fingers lay at the waist of your uniform and the last coherent thought flies out of your mind when he pushes your shirt up and kisses your stomach.

You lift your hips up to quickly shove your pants and underwear down to your thighs before Katakuri helps them the rest of the way, tugging them off your legs and discarding them. He moves down the bed slightly, large hand splayed over your left hip and thigh gently keeping your legs open. Your breath is heavy as he stares between your legs and you fight off the urge to be insecure.

“Tell me- show me-” His breath tingles on the soft skin inside your thighs.

You let one of your hands drift down your body and between your legs, fingers seeking out your folds. It’s no surprise to you just how wet you are as you use two fingers to push apart your folds, to show Katakuri what you’re doing. Your other hand follows and you use your pointer finger to slowly draw circles around your clit. A whine drags its way out of your throat, already so worked up and on edge.

Katakuri watches you in a trance, fingers digging into your skin on their own accord as you whine and moan at your own motions. Ready to take it further you use your hand previously holding your folds open to dip inside you, two fingers sliding in with no resistance.

“You don’t- fuck- you don’t have to be inside but a lot of people like a- a mixture of internal and external-“ You do your best to explain as you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, the lewd sound of your slick loud between your words.

“My fingers might be too big.” He’s not wrong as you watch them drift to the inside of your thigh and close to where you are working yourself.

“Don’t have to- you can use your mouth if you-“ Just the idea of him eating you out has your walls clenching around your fingers.

“Can I try- please-“ He sounds desperate, on the edge of begging you.

“Yes- fuck please-“

You let your hands drop as Katakuri uses his fingers to part your folds. His other hand maneuvers your legs up and around his face, your knees settling near his temples as he gets his mouth closer to where you need him. You watch his mouth split open and his tongue slip out, anticipation killing you as he moves slowly. Finally his tongue moves, the large muscle dragging a long stripe through your folds and up to your clit and you moan loud at the sensation. One of your hands grips into his hair as he repeats the motion, tongue digging deeper into your folds this time.

“Is that good- you taste good-“ He doesn’t even wait for your answer before he dives back in again, movements gaining confidence.

“Yeah- fuck- just like that just-“ You grind your hips into his face when his tongue reaches your clit again and he understands what you need.

He uses the tip of his tongue to press against your bud before sliding the thick muscle down again to slip between your folds. Slowly he presses his tongue into you, the size already overwhelming compared to your fingers. Despite his careful movements he pushes in too far too fast and you pull his hair hard.

“Hey- easy-“ You warn him and he pulls out of you quickly to look at you with concern.

“I’m sorry did I hurt you? We can stop I-“

“Just too much too soon- you just have to let me stretch out a bit.” You run your hand through his hair, petting him to calm him down.

“Okay, I can do that.” He presses a kiss to your thigh before diving back in.

He’s careful but he’s messy- part of it due to just how big his mouth and tongue are really. You feel your slick and his saliva coat your thighs as he laps at you, tongue seeking out every inch of you. The next time he pushes into you he’s much slower, letting the muscle flex inside you as you writhe beneath him. It’s wonderful but it’s just not quite enough. Your free hand goes between your legs and you almost have your fingers on your clit before Katakuri sends you a glance that stops you in your tracks.

“No-“ He says, barely pulling away. “Let me.”

You retract your hand and feel Katakuri’s thumb move to take its place, pressing down lightly as his tongue snakes it way back inside you. You swear loudly as he moves, grinding your hips into his fingers and tongue as he lets you use him to chase your pleasure.

“Just need you to- just move your finger a bit-“ You guide him and he obediently follows your direction, thumb moving in small circles like your finger had done before.

Looking down at him you watch as he’s lost in your taste, moaning into you at every grind of your hips and pull at his hair. You don’t miss the roll of his hips on the bed, no doubt desperate for the friction of the mattress beneath him. It’s all too much for you and you cry out his name as you cum, white blocking your vision. Katakuri doesn’t stop though, eagerly lapping at your juices even when you regain the strength to pull at his hair.

“Kat- fuck- baby stop-“ You don’t even register that you’ve said the pet name as he finally pulls off of you, confused.

“Did I hurt you again?”

“No ‘m just sensitive and it was a little too much right after I came.” You explain with a dazed smile.

“So you…” You nod and he smiles wide. “Didn’t want to assume-“

“Me screaming your name is a safe indicator.” You say with a small laugh.

He rests his head down, squishing your thigh and stomach a bit but you don’t mind the pressure at all, combing your fingers through his soft pink hair. The two of you sit like this for a bit, the silence comforting. Eventually though, you break that silence.

“I know you don’t like laying on your back but if you just want to sit up-“

“Oh- um- I’m-“

You’re a little confused at his reaction so you prop yourself up lightly to get a better look at him. “This is a mutual thing Katakuri- I don’t want to just-“

“Please, really don’t worry about me-“ You watch his face bloom with pink again and it clicks for you.

“Did you finish already?” You ask softly, no traces of judgement in your words.

“I’m sorry-“

“No- don’t be sorry.” You push yourself down so your face is level with his. “If you ask me it’s really hot that you came just from eating me out.”

“Oh- well-“ You press a light kiss to his mouth before he can stumble any further with his words.

“If you don’t want more I understand but if you can go another round there’s still some things on my mind…”

He captures your mouth in a messy kiss, a far cry from the chaste one you gave a moment ago. You can taste yourself on his lips as you’re pressed back into the bed by how eager he is. When you push on his shoulder lightly he breaks away and lets you breathe.

“Just don’t tell anyone about me being on my back.” He says seriously and you nod.

He rolls over, careful not to squish you in the process. As he does so you throw your shirt off, finally fully naked. Once he’s settled you climb onto him, his muscles flexing under you as you settle on his lower stomach. You watch as his hands ball into the sheets, forcing himself to stay still. As you slowly slide back though, he catches you off guard with a quiet question.

“When you said you had some more things on your mind… have you thought about this before?”

That freezes you in your tracks, embarrassment and shame filling up your stomach and catching in your throat. You lock your gaze to the side of him as you try and find your words. Logic tells you it’s stupid to be embarrassed at this point- he’d already enthusiastically ate you out- but your emotions dragged you down as you wonder if this really is just a practice run for him.

“You probably don’t want to know.” You answer, suddenly aware of how naked and cold you are.

“I just want to know if- hey…” One of his hands untangles from the sheets and a finger lightly presses against your chin to make you look at him. “I just want to know if you’ve been thinking about this as much as I have.”

That catches you off guard and while you think for a second he might be lying to you you see the honestly in his eyes. Of course. Why else would he show his face to you, lay on his back for you. You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner.

“I have been.” You confess, leaning your face into his hand.

You let yourself enjoy his touch, the warmth of his skin finally seeping into you and giving you the confidence to slink back down his body. You drag yourself down over the bulge in his pants, his cock already hard again. You slowly undo the large belt and fastenings of his pants, opening them up to see the dark patch in his boxers. Taking both your hands you tug the elastic waistband down and his cock springs out.

“I’ll just-“ One large hand gently picks you up as he raises his hips and shoves both layers down past his ass with the other, setting you back down where you were.

You would say thank you if you weren’t caught up staring at Katakuri’s cock. Obviously, it’s big. He’s big it makes sense but there’s a large gap between knowing something and seeing something. He’s flushed a beautiful shade of pink, large veins standing out along the underside. Your hand moves on its own accord to slide up it and the second you touch him you hear him groan. You scoot up closer next to him, and you would compare the length and girth to about the size of your thigh.

“Ah- I get the sensitivity thing now-“ He gasps and you smile.

“I have an idea- just let me-“ You swing your leg up and over so you’re straddling his length.

You’re still slick with saliva and your own juices, making it an easy glide as your grind yourself against his length. Katakuri’s hips buck up and you fall forward but before he can apologize you take advantage of this new position, licking at his smooth tip as you let your body slide against him.

“Fuck- that’s-“ You have the prefect view to watch his abdominals contract after every slide and lick you give him.

Your movements are not entirely selfless though, angling your hips so your clit grinds against him, bumping against his veins. You use your feet to slide up and down but it’s a bit hard to find a good rhythm as your legs aren’t used to this kind of movement.

“Need your help. I want you to slide me up and down.”

Katakuri looks at you, hand hesitating in the air. “But- I don’t want to just use you-“

“I want you to use me- please- this feels good for me too I just can’t keep it up.” You beg with him and that’s all the encouragement he needs as his large hand wraps around your midsection and slowly moves you.

There’s something about him using you, letting the soft skin of your stomach and thighs and folds grind against him, that makes your head go fuzzy. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before and it was bliss. It’s not very long at all until you feel Katakuri’s dick twitching under you and you know he’s going to cum again.

“Just let go for me, please Katakuri I want to see you-“

Your pleas are more than enough as you watch thick ropes of cum spill from his tip and onto his stomach. He holds you down as he cums and you don’t mind at all, getting a great view of his face from here. Eventually he relaxes and you slide off of his cock and wiggle your way up to his shoulder to lay your face next to him.

“Feel good?” You ask nuzzling into his neck.

“Very good.” He responds, still catching his breath. “Did… did you..?”

“No but that’s okay. Felt good.”

He huffs and you’re about to comfort him again but suddenly you’re flipped around with your back on the bed again. He stares down at you with a now confident smile.

“I think I could use some more practice then.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #katakuri x reader #charlotte katakuri x reader #discordantwritings

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faeprincess777 · 8 months ago

Text

Summary: After a stressful week, you and Chan decide on a relaxing movie night, which turns into something more.

Chan x virgin!Reader

TW: afab reader, oral and fingering (f receiving), implied creampie, loss of virginity, slight choking, rough sex, reader is shy

It’s been a long week. Work has been running you ragged. From deadlines to meetings to presentations, you’ve barely been able to take the time to care for yourself. Something that your boyfriend, Chan, wasn’t too fond of.

Luckily, you were off the rest of the weekend, and Chan decided it was a perfect time to pamper and spoil you. Tonight, the plan is simple, order in and watch a movie. You both decided to re-watch the Deadpool movies since the new one will be out soon.

Since you cuddled up with Chan for your movie date night, he has been running his hand back and forth on the skin of your lower back, below your shirt. It makes it so hard to focus on the movie, and you find yourself fidgeting to get some friction where you needed it most.

You were a virgin and nervous as all hell. You’ve been in this position with Chan before, but you haven’t gone any further. You want to, but your nerves keep getting the best of you. What if you mess up? What if you don’t make him cum? How do you even bring it up?

Your brain is all over the place. The movie has pretty much become background noise for your thoughts.

By now, the food has been devoured, and the two of you are halfway through the second Deadpool movie. Chan can tell you aren’t fully paying attention to the movie, most likely still thinking about work. Little did he know that work was the last thing on your mind at the moment.

Chan really just wanted you to have a relaxing weekend after the week you’ve had. Luckily, he knows a few more ways to get you to relax.

He began letting his hands wander a bit more. Kneading and massaging your thigh, trying to get you to relax, but when he feels you tense even more, he begins to think he's made you uncomfortable.

“Baby? Are you okay? Am I making you uncomfortable?”

You can’t find it in you to answer, so you give a quick shake of your head. This causes Chan to raise his eyebrow, looking at you questioningly. He reaches for the remote and pauses the movie, sitting up to look at you properly.

“What’s going on? And don’t say nothing.” Chan pushes.

At that point, your cheeks are burning with embarrassment at getting caught in your dirty thoughts. You find yourself burying your face in his chest in an attempt to hide. This only worries Chan more. You're aren’t the type to hide things from him, so when you hesitate to tell him what was wrong, his mind thought of the worst-case scenario.

“Baby? You’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something? If so I’m sorry, and I can fix it. I just need-” Chan rabbled. Hearing the worry and panic in his voice has you snapping your eyes to meet his, and you’re quick to reassure him.

"No! No, baby. It’s not you. I promise. You haven’t done anything wrong, and you have nothing to apologize for.” You say, quickly. Chan lets out the breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. Just relieved that he hadn’t upset you.

“Whew, good. But is there still something on your mind, right?” Chan asks.

Damn. You’ve been caught. Quickly, you try to think of a way out of this without embarrassing yourself. Chan, being as observant as always, notices this.

“Babygirl, you know you can tell me anything. If something is going on, I deserve to know so we can work through it.” Chan says softly. You know he’s right, but you still have no idea how to bring up the topic of sex. In that moment, your brain decided that the best way to tell Chan what had been plaguing your mind was to just blurt it out.

“I think I'm ready to have sex with you.” The words coming out so fast that you weren’t sure Chan even heard you. But he did. And he froze. Did he hear you right? Were you sure? What if he hurt you? His mind was racing just like yours moments ago.

You take Chan’s silence as apprehension and try to mend the awkward moment. “I-I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry if I made-” Your words have Chan snapping out of his daze, and he is quick to stop your rambling.

“No, baby girl. Don’t apologize. I was just shocked, that's all. I mean, are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured or like we have to rush into anything. I'm okay with waiting.” Chan reassures you.

“I’m sure. I’ve been thinking of it for a while now, I just didn’t know how to bring it up.” You inform him. Chan stares at you, trying to find any hint of apprehension, but he finds none. After a brief moment, Chan leans in to kiss you. You welcome it, opening your mouth to allow Chan’s tongue to snake in.

Before long, the kiss turns passionate, and clothes are strewn across the apartment as you both make your way into the bedroom.

Chan has you pinned to the bed, peppering kisses down your body before settling between your legs.

“Can I taste you, baby?” Chan asks, looking up at you. You shyly nod your head. Your nerves are high. You worried you don’t taste good or you’ll mess up.

Chan could read your worries easily. Taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers, he silently reassures you. You take a deep breath and nod your head again, telling him you're ready.

That was all the confirmation Chan needed to start eating you out like a mad man. He couldn’t get enough. You were so sweet. So perfect and the noises you were making were nearly enough to make him cum immediately.

It felt so fucking good. You could feel your high quickly approaching, pleasure drowning out your nerves. Your finger snake their way into Chan’s hair, trying pulling him even closer but resulting in a deep groan coming from Chan. That was enough to throw you over the edge.

Once Chan is pleased with how he’s prepped you, he pulls away and removes his fingers. He watches your pussy clench around nothing over and over before he gently rolls you onto your stomach.

Chan settles behind you, resting on the back of your thighs. "Ready, baby?" He asks. You give him a shy nod. "Okay. Deep breaths. Relax." He says calming as he starts to push in, slowly.

The stretch is painful, and you struggle to stay calm and relaxed. When Chan feels you tense up, he stops. "Shhhh, you're okay. Just relax." He says, soothing you.

He gives you a moment. Once he feels you relax again, he starts pushing in again. You put all of your energy into focusing on your breathing and trying to stay relaxed, but as the burn intensifies, you find yourself tensing again. Chan is quick to notice and pauses again. "Easy baby. You can take it. You just have to go slow. We're halfway there." He says calmly as he massages the tense muscles in your back.

Soon, you find yourself totally relaxed again. It's like his praises have put you under some sort of spell. You barely even notice that he's pushing in again. It isn't long before Chan finds himself buried to the hilt in your heat. You're so tight and warm around him. All he can do is groan as he tries to remain still. You, on the other hand, are completely overwhelmed by the fullness you feel.

It takes you a while to adjust, but Chan, being the gentleman he is, waits patiently. He just continues to massage away all your tension while whispering soft praises.

"See, I told you you'd be able to take it." He says, peppering light kisses down your neck and shoulder.

You move slightly, trying to get more comfortable and find yourself whimpering at the pain.

"It hurts." You whine to Chan. "I know, baby. It's okay. It's normal for it to hurt a little your first time. You're okay, I've got you." Chan says as he continues to layer kisses over your skin, trying to soothe you as well as ground himself. It's all he could do to not pound into you like a mad man.

After a short while, the pain begins to fizzle out. "Okay, I think you can move." You tell Chan, once again relaxing your body.

Slowly, Chan pulls out, and you find yourself hissing into the pillow. Chan just shooshes you as he slowly pushes back in. He repeats the motion, leaning over to take one of your hands in his as his other hand rests on your waist.

Once he feels you relax more underneath him and he hears your whimpers morph into moans, Chan picks up his pace a little.Pleasure begins to spark like electricity all over your body, but there is still a tinge of pain.

"How does it feel, baby?" Chan groans out. He is doing absolutely everything he can to keep a slow, steady pace for you, but he's slipping.

"It still hurts a little, but it's starting to feel good." You tell him honestly through whimpers and moans you fail to hide. He hates how you try to stay quiet but knows you're shy, and it's your first time, so he will let it slide for now. Chan leans in close, trailing kisses up your neck and to the sweet spot behind your ears. He lets out a deep groan as he feels you clench around him.

"Want me to make it feel even better?" He whispers in your ear. You fail to stop the moan that spills out of you as you eagerly nod your head, leaving a cocky smirk on Chan's face.

"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you're quick to comply. The hand that was resting on your waist snakes its way down between your thighs and plays with your wetness, gently strumming your clit, leaving you gasping.

That did it. That broke him. He couldn't hold back anymore. "Say red if you want me to stop, okay." Chan says, clenching his jaw. You quickly nod, letting out a faint yes. Chan tucks his knees closer to your body before he begins bucking wildly into you.

The room is filled with the rapid sound of Chan's body connecting with yours and your louds moans that can no longer be contained. Chan was right. This feels amazing. You don't even know why you were so nervous to do this anymore.

Chan chants praises and groans, and he pounds you into the mattress. He keeps a constant and steady rhythm on your clit. It isn't long before he feels you clamping down on him with a scream of his name. It takes everything in him not to cum on the spot. He wants more, he needs you to come again.

He quickly pulls out, making you hiss, before flipping you on your back. He's back inside you, pounding away, before you even have a chance to comprehend the position change. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you hook your feet around Chan's waist, trying to pull him deeper.

Chan lets out a growl as he snakes his hand up to your throat, squeezing ever so slightly. Your eyes widen as they meet his, grabbing hold of his wrist. He's watching you so intently, looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he's met with a look of total bliss on your face as you clench so hard you nearly push him out.

You're quickly approaching another high and Chan has no intention of slowing down until you cum again. Chan is close too, trying desperately to hold off, to finish with you. He's a babbling mess of praises and groans. You're so close to the edge, just needing another push to send you over. You use your other hand to cover your mouth as you feel like you want to scream in please. This pissed Chan off. He ripped your hand away and held it above your head.

"Don't do that. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel." Chan grunts. You comply, and you're sure there will be a noise complaint in the morning.

"F- Fuck, baby. You feel so good. You're gonna make me cum! Please, please baby. Cum with me. Cum." Chan babbles. That's all you needed to hurtle into a mind-numbing orgasm, taking Chan with you.

For a few minutes, the room is filled with the sound of your combined panting as you both can down from your highs. Chan slumps forward, releasing your throat and wrists and supports his weight on his elbows.

"Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you?" Chan asks, loving tucking some hair behind your ear. You look at him with a tired smile. "No, baby. That was perfect. Thank you." Chan giggles."My pleasure, baby. Let's get you cleaned up, then we can cuddle."

He slowly pulls out you, and you both wince with the overstimulation. Chan tells you to stay put as he gets off the bed and heads into the bathroom. You hear the water running and wonder what he's doing.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you try to calm your rapid heartbeat and slow your breathing. You suddenly feel something warm and wet touch your inner thigh, making you jump. You open your eyes to find Chan wiping up the mess you've both made between your thighs with a warm cloth. Still so sensitive and now growing sore, you whimper in discomfort. Chan soothes you. "I know, baby, look at this mess. You did so well for me." Soon, you're all cleaned up. Chan throws the cloth in the hamper before tucking you under the blanket and crawling in next to you.

"I love you, Channie." You say tiredly. Chan can't help but giggle at how cute you are.

"I love you too, baby. Always."

#stray kids #skz #bang chan #bang chan smut #stray kids smut

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museanddream · 8 months ago

Text

Pretty Please || Laia Codina x reader

Summary: Amid the Conti Cup celebrations, you come up with an idea to wipe the smirk off Laia’s stupid pretty face.

Warnings: 🔞 | face sitting, fingering, light bondage (but the soft and silly kind), top!reader

Word count: 5k

The look on Laia’s face when you push her onto the bed is one that will be etched into your memory for a long time.

Later, if you end up regretting this, you’ll blame the champagne. The thing about Laia is that she’s just so passionate. From the moment she came onto the pitch after half time, right through extra time and the celebrations that lasted into the night, she committed wholly to it all. And maybe you’ve actually fancied her all along, or maybe it’s the bubbles poured down your throat from the open bottles that have gone straight to your head, but you don’t think you can really be blamed for seeing Laia give herself to everything so wholeheartedly and wanting to drag her away so she can give herself completely to you.

Her expression is dazed, her hands helpless at her side as you straddle her hips, like she doesn’t quite believe this is happening.

“That’s it,” you assure her. “Just lie there and look pretty for me.”

She is pretty, blown pupils in eyes that stare up at you like you’re an as yet undiscovered wonder of the world. The confidence that attracted you to her is still there, but there’s a slight hesitancy too, like she’s navigating uncharted waters.

“I don’t … I’m not…”

Her accented voice is a little husky, probably from all the singing since Arsenal lifted the trophy but you allow yourself to believe that just a little bit of it is because of you and this position you’ve put her in.

“What? You’re not used to somebody else calling the shots?” You can’t help but tease her.

Laia gives a little shrug.

“Well, no.”

You lean forwards to cover her body with yours, ghosting your lips over hers as you murmur, “If you don’t want to do this…”

Laia answers by fisting a hand into the material of your jersey and pulling you closer so that your lips have no choice but to crash against hers.

She kisses exactly the way you knew she would - with her entire body. You’re supposed to be taking control but it’s really hard to focus on that when Laia’s teeth nip at your lips, when her tongue swipes into your mouth, when her whole aura is enveloping you. Her hands quickly drop to your hips, then fall even lower until her palms are cupping your ass, her fingers squeezing roughly as she tries to pull you even closer.

“Stop it.” You break the kiss and swat at her hands until she complies and lets them fall back to her sides on the bed, then you add, “Don’t make me tie you up.”

It’s just a joke until it isn’t, Laia’s eyes darkening and her thighs clenching together beneath you. The movement is so minute that you could miss it, if Laia wasn’t the entire purpose of your existence right now.

“Oh?” Your mouth curls up into a smile at the realisation, one eyebrow arched as Laia’s cheeks flush. “You’d like that, would you?” You don’t give Laia time to answer before you’re pulling at the hem of the Arsenal shirt she still wears and telling her, “Take this off.”

You clamber off the bed and cross over to your open suitcase, cursing the fact that you’re in a random hotel in Wolverhampton and not the comfort of your own flat, where you’ve got all kinds of fun things you could use on Laia.

Rummaging around for anything that might be useful, your fingers eventually close around a clean pair of spare football socks rolled-up at the bottom of your bag and in the absence of any actual ties, you decide they’ll have to do. When you turn your attention back to the bed, Laia has taken off her shirt but still wears a sports bra and, for some inexplicable reason, the Conti Cup winner’s medal that hasn’t left her neck since she was presented it after the game earlier. She lounges back against the pillows, the smirk back on her lips. That damn kissable smirk.

“Take those off too,” you instruct her.

Laia maintains eye contact with you the entire time as she lifts the medal from around her neck and leans across to drop it on the nightstand, and yeah, you really need to put her in her place.

You crawl back onto the bed, helping her remove the bra without much care, too fuelled on a high of adrenaline, post-match pizza and champagne. The kiss you give her when the bra is gone is bruising, flattening her into the mattress as you remind her who is in charge, discarding the socks and your idea for them for a second while you focus on more important things - namely getting your hands on Laia’s tits. She gasps into your mouth as your palms brush across her nipples and you take advantage, slipping your tongue past her lips as you devour her mouth, hot and filthy.

“Fuck,” Laia exhales, as your mouth drops to her jaw, tilting her head to the side to give you better access as you descend the column of her neck and litter kisses across her clavicle.

“That’s the idea,” you murmur against hot skin as one of her hands finds the back of your head and weaves through your hair as she tries to guide you lower. You’ll allow it for now, knowing that she won’t have the use of her hands for much longer, and wrap your lips around a dusky nipple.

“Fuck,” Laia repeats, somehow more reverent than before.

“Is that the only word you know?” you ask, lifting your head to grin down at her as you replace your mouth with your hand, pinching her nipple between your thumb and forefinger.

“English is my fourth language,” Laia protests.

You can’t help but lean down and kiss the pout right off her swollen lips.

“Then let me help you,” you say between kisses. “Let me teach you two words that go really well with that one. How about ‘me’ and ‘please’?”

You watch as the cogs work in Laia’s mind. In her defence, it’s probably a lot harder to translate and put the words together while you’re playing with her tits. Still, the look of realisation on her face when she puts it all together is one that brings you a great deal of joy.

“You’re an asshole,” she mutters.

“You’ll be saying it before the end of the night,” you promise her. “Now, do you trust me?”

You let your hands still, serious for a moment as you wait for her unwavering consent.

She nods, face stoic as she answers, “Of course.”

Reaching for the socks you discarded earlier, you unwrap them from their little bundle and gesture at Laia.

“Gimme your hands.”

Laia stares back defiantly for a few seconds, the hard set of her jaw challenging you, before her face slides into the familiar confident smirk as she offers up her hands.

“Is this how you always celebrate winning trophies?” she asks.

Silently, you wrap the length of one of the socks around Laia’s wrists, binding them together with a tight knot. The material is stretchy and she could probably still break free, but it’s the thought behind it that’s what really matters. The power you hold over her as she gives herself to you and lets you render her semi-helpless beneath you.

Even with her wrists bound, she still seems too comfortable, like this is her plan all along and not yours. And you can’t have that.

You answer her with a question of your own.

“What, by putting annoying little shits like you in their place?”

Pleased with the reaction she’s drawing from you, Laia grins up at you.

“I love hearing you talk dirty like that,” she teases you in a low voice.

Satisfied with your work, you lift Laia’s bound hands above her head and respond, “I’ve still got another sock. Don’t make me gag you with it.”

Laia actually laughs, a ripple of joy that bursts from her throat and yeah she’s a bit of a dickhead, but she’s also so fucking pretty when she’s half-naked and grinning up at you.

You silence her in a different way, with your mouth, and there are no complaints now as you kiss her as deeply as before. She kisses you back just as fervently, clinging onto whatever semblance of control she thinks she can take from you, even with her hands useless above her head. She kisses as assuredly as she tackles, the raw passion that emanates from her body just as prevalent now as it was on the pitch this afternoon and if there was a medal for dedication to a cause, it would surely be hanging around Laia’s neck.

She’s still far too dressed for your liking, even with her chest bare, and you don’t even break the kiss as your hands dip down her sides and your thumbs tuck into the elastic waistband of her sweatpants.

Laia lifts her hips from the bed and you don’t need more invitation than that, finally breaking the kiss so that you can pull the rest of her clothes down her legs, tossing them over your shoulder onto the floor.

Unfazed by her own nudity, though really, with her hands already bound together, there’s very little point in being ashamed, Laia scans down your own clothed body and says, “You’re wearing too much.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes flit to Laia’s hands, still stretched above her head with the length of sock binding her wrists together. “And what are you gonna do about that?”

Laia clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, fighting off another grin as she shakes her head from side to side.

“And you call me a shit.”

Apparently, tying Laia up has done nothing to instil some obedience in her.

“Shut the fuck up,” you tell her.

“Make me shut up yourself,” Laia challenges you.

It’s not a bad idea. In fact, it’s an excellent idea.

You climb off the bed, leaving Laia still naked on top of the covers, her hands above her head. She brings them down and sits up, the expression on her face one of confusion as to why you’ve moved away.

“Wait!” she calls out. “No, I’ll be good! I promise.”

You lift your own shirt over your head, then step out of your joggers, leaving you in just your underwear. Laia has fallen silent upon realising that you’re not changing your mind, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open as she stares at all the new skin on show.

It’s not the first time she’s seen your body - you share a dressing room literally every day - but it’s the first time she’s been allowed to appreciate it. It’s almost funny how stripping out of your clothes has rendered Laia incapable of doing anything except staring at you, if not for the hunger in her eyes that sets your own body alight, turning you on beyond what you thought was possible.

You slide your underwear down your legs then return to the bed, straddling Laia once again, this time without the barrier of clothes.

“This isn’t fair,” Laia complains, eyes flitting up to the hands bound above her head.

“Why not?”

“I want to touch you.”

Laia makes no attempt to wriggle her hands loose, even though the stretchy material of the sock would make that quite easy for her. It fills you with a little bit of pride to see that she doesn’t do that, that she’s secretly happy with the position you’ve put her in and the freedom of movement that you’ve taken from her.

“I thought you wanted me to shut you up?” you remind her, shuffling your knees forward as you move further up the bed towards Laia’s head.

Laia’s eyes widen in realisation, then that confident grin returns to her face.

“Yeah, that works too.”

You stop with your knees on either side of Laia’s head, pausing for a moment to consider if you should move so that Laia can bring her hands down her body to be more comfortable. But then you catch sight of her between your legs, cheeks tinged pink and black pupils swallowing almost all the brown irises around them, and any thought of Laia’s comfort flies out of your mind. Besides, with her hands caught above her head, you can still see them as you ride her face.

The thought has your cunt pulsing in anticipation.

You get comfortable, one hand reaching out to support your weight against the headboard, then lower yourself onto Laia’s waiting mouth.

As Laia licks through you for the first time, the touch of her tongue snatches the air out of your lungs. She moves slowly, starting at your hole and swirling up to your clit before it goes back again, moving without any real purpose other than to just taste you.

After a few moments, Laia leans back to say, “You are really fucking wet.”

Her words are completely unnecessary and insolent enough for you to thread the fingers of your free hand through her hair and pull her mouth back against your cunt to shut her up properly.

Laia doesn’t seem to have any complaints about that. In fact, she doubles her efforts, humming as her tongue glides through you.

She works with more purpose now, working all kinds of indescribable magic where you’re hot and wet and aching for her. Laia’s lips wrap around your clit, suckling gently, then her tongue dips lower, swirling through your folds until she can push the pointed tip inside you.

You can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips, nor the expletive that follows.

“Fuck.”

Laia can’t talk from the position between your legs but you feel the hot puff of breath from her nose as she half-sniggers. You look down, met with a teasing glint in her eyes, and you roll your own.

“Shut up and fuck me,” you instruct her.

You take the opportunity to roll your hips, grinding your cunt against her mouth with slow movements as Laia applies herself fully to eating you out. You can’t really stay annoyed with her, not when she’s making you feel so good. It crosses your mind that maybe the assuredness, the borderline cockiness that attracted you to Laia in the first place, is justified by the skills that back it up. But then Laia’s tongue flicks over your clit again and you lose the ability to think coherently at all.

“Fuck, Laia,” you groan, leaning forwards to support your bodyweight against the headboard as you pick up speed, riding not just her mouth now, but pretty much the whole lower half of her face. “That feels so good. Gonna come real quick if you keep doing that.”

You say it as a bit of a warning but Laia doesn’t take it that way. In fact, if the way she hums against you, then doubles down against your clit is anything to go by, the idea of getting you off as fast as possible seems to be her end goal.

And yeah, as the coil in your core starts to wind up as your orgasm approaches, it’s an idea you can get behind too.

Your grip in her hair tightens, holding her in place as you ride her tongue as well as your trembling thighs will allow, then you make the mistake of looking down again, catching a glimpse of the hands still bound above her head before your entire world crumbles in earth-shattering pleasure.

Laia’s tongue is the only constant as your orgasm takes control of your body, not that you give her much choice about it as you hold her face against your cunt. You ride it out with jerky movements of your hips, savouring each hum from the girl below you as she cleans up your arousal, until you’re too sensitive and roll to the side, collapsing onto the mattress.

“That was so fucking hot,” Laia’s voice rises up beside you as you try to catch your breath.

You can hear the confident smirk in her voice, but you’re too dazed out from your recent orgasm to even begin to form the words to tell her to get lost.

“Are you gonna untie me now?” Laia asks.

You turn your head to face her and open your eyes. Her hands are still obediently held above her head, the white material around her wrists a contrast against her tanned arms, and she pouts at your pleadingly.

“Not sure you’ve earned it yet,” you counter, your voice more gravelly than it was pre-orgasm.

“If you want me to get you off again…” She emphasises this last word, as if making you come once has given her the upper hand here. “… well, I might need my hands for that.”

If Laia really wanted the use of her hands, she’d wriggle them free of their stretchy confinement herself. You take the fact that she doesn’t as further proof that she likes being at your mercy.

Feeling suddenly reinvigorated by that thought, you roll fully onto your side and prop yourself up on one elbow, using the fingers of the other hand to trace barely-there paths against the soft skin of Laia’s chest.

“I thought I told you to just lie there and look pretty for me,” you murmur in a low voice.

“Isn’t that…” Laia trails off with a gasp as your fingertips skate across a hardened nipple, her back arching off the bed for more. Her eyes close as your fingers move away, then she tries again. “Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?”

“Yeah but I also said I wanted to hear you beg for it.”

“Please,” Laia is quick to obey. “Untie me.”

She lowers her hands, offering them out to you hopefully, but you have other ideas.

“I could untie you.” Your hand wanders lower, still just barely tracing against her skin and Laia’s breath hitches in her throat as you pass across a ticklish spot near her navel. “Or I could…”

Your hand dips between her legs, pleased that your fingers immediately encounter a copious wetness.

“Yeah,” Laia says, letting her bound hands fall back against the pillow above her head. “Like that.”

“And you had the audacity to say that I was wet,” you tease her as your fingers explore, already coated in Laia’s arousal.

“I just had you coming on my face,” Laia rasps. “Of course I’m wet.”

Your fingers move languidly, with no real purpose other than to get them as wet as possible with Laia’s slick, then you drag your hand up her body and push your fingers past her lips.

“Who tastes better?” You ask, watching in awe as Laia readily accepts your fingers into her mouth, diligently cleaning them of her own arousal. “Me or you?”

Laia slides her tongue between your fingers, before releasing them with a wet pop to answer, “You.”

Your fingers are still wet, now with Laia’s saliva, and you shift to kneel between her legs as you push them back between her lips.

This time, you actually fuck her mouth with your fingers. Before, you were just letting her taste herself, letting her see how wet you managed to get her, but now it’s about control. It’s about reminding her that you’re in charge.

And Laia takes it like a champ. She maintains eye contact with you the entire time, even as you force your fingers deeper into her mouth, her dark eyes challenging you to push further. So you do, and when she’s almost gagging on your fingers, you slide your other hand between her legs and sink inside her there too.

Laia takes one finger so easily that you add another after only a few thrusts, matching the rhythm of the fingers in her mouth. The resulting moan is muffled by your digits, so after one final thrust, you withdraw them messily and put all your focus onto her cunt.

You twist your fingers deeper, the meaty part of your thumb hitting her clit, and when she moans again, the sound fills the room.

“That’s it,” you encourage her. “Let me hear you.”

Laia lets out another wrecked moan as your fingers rock into her. Your thrusts are deep and slow, more interested in the noises you can pull from her than actually getting her close to coming, and you bask in the symphony of little moans and gasps that spill past her lips.

When she starts pleading with you, it feels like you’ve gone to heaven.

“More,” Laia groans. “Add another one.”

Your thrusts become rougher, but you make no move to add the third finger that she so desperately wants.

“That’s not how you ask nicely for things you want.”

Laia responds in Catalan and though you don’t understand it, from her tone you’re pretty sure she’s swearing at you. Your response to that is to curl your fingers on the next thrust, pressing against her front wall until her cursing fades into another moan.

Laia manages to stubbornly hold out for just a few more seconds before she gives in.

“Please. Another one, please.”

Your ego swells at how easy it was to get her to obey. You enjoy very few things more than putting confident girls like Laia in their place, but you never thought that it would be this easy, that all it would take would be a pair of socks around her wrists and a couple of fingers in her cunt to fuck her into submission.

“I had no idea you were so easy, Lai. Just desperate to be fucked, aren’t you?”

Laia curses again, first in Catalan, then in English. Then she begs you again and it’s delightful.

“Please,” she whines. “More. Harder.”

You tuck a third finger alongside the first two and start to work it into her hole, the stretch more apparent now. You watch Laia’s face for any signs of discomfort, eyes briefly lingering on the bound hands that writhe above her head, but she seems to be enjoying this as much as you are. More, even.

“So desperate,” you taunt her, gradually pushing deeper with each thrust until all three of your fingers are nestled inside her. “Bet you still want more, don’t you? My fingers aren’t enough for you?”

You withdraw almost entirely, then thrust back in with much less care than before. Your purpose is clearer now - to ruin Laia. She’s already halfway there, you can tell that from the pretty flush on her cheeks, the way her thighs are tensing and flexing as she bucks her hips into your hands, the slick sounds coming from the thrust of your fingers between her legs.

You know right in this moment that you’re never going to be satisfied with having Laia just the once. That being able to coax orgasm after orgasm from her, hearing these heavenly sounds leave her pretty mouth over and over again, is going to become a need, rather than a want. She takes you so well, everything you’re giving her, like you’re supposed to fit together like this.

And you have no doubt that if you were to give her more, she’d take that just as well.

“What if I had a strap, huh?” Your eyes are fixated between her legs as you ask the question, imagining the press of silicone where your fingers enter her body. The way she’d open up and take that too, strong thighs wrapped around your hips as you filled her. “You’d take that just as well, I bet. What d’ya think, Laia? Would you beg for my cock too?”

“Please,” Laia begs you, arching her back and tilting her head to the side to expose the sharp lines of her jaw. “Feels so good inside. So fucking good.”

You piston your fingers in and out, caring less about how rough you’re being and more about the noises you’re drawing from Laia. You can hear how wet she is where your fingers move, the rustle of the rumpled hotel sheets beneath her body as she writhes, but best of all are the litany of moans and gasps that spill past her lips each time you hit that spot deep inside her with the pads of your fingers.

“Need you … my clit … please,” Laia manages to choke out between groans, and you know she’s getting close.

You indulge her, using your spare hand, the one that was in each mouth earlier, to spread her open further before seeking out the slippery little nub between her legs. The way she jerks into your touch tells you that you’ve found the right place.

“Like that?”

“Need to come. Please let me come!”

You’re torn, half-tempted to draw it out longer because she’s just that fucking pretty when she’s tied up and desperate for you, but the selfish part of you really wants to see how much prettier she can be when she’s actually coming for you.

So you angle your fingers just right, trying to find the spot that was driving her wild a few moments ago, while keeping the light pressure around her clit with your thumb as constant as possible.

“Go on then,” you hum in concession. “Seeing as you asked so nicely. Come for me, Laia. Wanna see you let go for me.”

It takes a few more rough thrusts of your fingers in her cunt, a few more precise circles of your thumb on her clit, and then Laia’s back is arching off the bed as she lets out a fractured cry of pleasure as the orgasm takes over. You can only try to guide her through it, watching in awe as she finally falls apart in front of you.

This might be your favourite part of sleeping with a woman, the moment where she gives in and just lets the pleasure take control of her body. Knowing that you’ve made it happen, simultaneously the one who shattered Laia’s entire world for a brief moment, while also being the only thing still tethering her to reality. You keep your fingers constant, revelling in the way you can feel her clenching around your digits and the fresh wetness that coats your palm, only letting up when the twitch of her hips is away from your touch, telling you that it’s too much.

Laia’s eyes are closed, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath, and you savour the little mewl of pleasure she lets out as you slowly withdraw your fingers and wipe the stickiness that coats them on your own bare thigh.

In the sudden stillness of the hotel room, despite the fact that she’s just given you everything you thought you wanted and more, the pride of being the one to make Laia come means you can’t help but tease her one more time.

“You know,” you start, as you kiss up her body, soft kisses with no purpose other than to simply appreciate Laia, “for somebody who says she’s not used to bottoming, you’re pretty fucking good at it.”

Laia opens a lazy eye, her eyelids still heavy with post-orgasmic bliss.

“I …” She starts to speak, then trails off and shakes her head, sniggering softly to herself. “Actually, I won’t even argue. If that’s how you’re going to fuck me, I’d let you do it all again.”

You crawl up her body, sitting astride her hips and reaching for her hands. She willingly brings them down and lets you loosen the sock that binds them. When her hands are freed, you kiss the newly exposed skin, brushing your lips against the pulse on the inside of her wrists.

“Uh huh?” You tease her. “I think you just like being a pillow princess.”

“La teva princesa,” Laia says, catching your jaw with one of her hands as she looks directly at you, then explains in English, “Only for you.”

Her smirk is gone, replaced by an earnest smile and warmth in her brown eyes that you feel like you could tumble into. You don’t want to tease her anymore, you just want to savour the time you get to spend with her alone, before the inevitable chaos of the football season resumes in the morning.

As you lay down and settle against her side, half on top of her, you notice a bruise blooming on the crux of Laia’s jaw that you don’t even remember giving her, one that’s going to be tricky for her to explain away on the team bus back to London tomorrow. You realise that you don’t care.

“So, is this just a one time thing or…?”

Laia’s arms wrap around you from below, fingertips tracing mindless paths across your naked back, and you feel the rumble of her low voice against your chest more than you hear it.

You lift your head slightly to look at her and she somehow seems more vulnerable now as she waits for your answer than she did a few minutes ago when she had legs spread, arms bound, begging you to make her come.

“Let’s win more trophies and maybe you’ll find out.” You roll fully on top of Laia and start kissing down her body, your destination the crux of her thighs. “Though I’m pretty sure I still haven’t properly congratulated you on winning the Nations League…”

The resulting laugh as Laia takes full advantage of the newfound freedom of her hands to thread her fingers through your hair is melodic.

“Don’t forget about the World Cup,” she teases you.

You glance up her body, her toned stomach, her perfect breasts, that damn smirk taunting you once more on her lips.

Rolling your eyes, you only have one final thing to say before you put your mouth on her cunt.

“Don’t be so damn greedy, Laia.”

#laia codina x reader #laia codina imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut

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daveth-isnt-dead · 12 days ago

Text

Coalescence part 1/3

Part Two

Summary:

She’s so nervous that her breath catches in her lungs and doesn’t come back out, from her side she can hear Viktor’s foot tapping a frantic rhythm against the tiles. Without even thinking it through, her hand finds his and grabs it tight. He doesn’t pull back, if anything he holds hers even tighter. The question rises once again, unbidden. What are we? AKA: She works with Viktor for seven years, she is in love with him for five of them.

Contains: she/her pronouns, supremely slow burn, me pretending to know what science is

Word Count: 7,722

Read on AO3

What are we? She wonders, sitting across the room from the two brilliant minds behind Hextech. Not friends, certainly; colleagues barely. Strangers, probably. She hadn't exactly been looking for assistant work, but after years of flitting between different fields of study but never finding anything that really stuck, an assistant position offered her the freedom to study whatever she pleased without the looming threat of expulsion should she continue skirting the requirement of choosing a major. Heimerdinger had a hand in this, of course. She’s noticed recently, he’s had a hand in a great many things. Didn’t want to forsake a bright mind over some simple indecision, he’d argued, and then tossed her headfirst into the very new Hextech lab without much of a warning.

She mostly sits in the corner, brings coffee even though neither of them ever actually asks for it, and works on her own research well out of the way of whatever potential explosion brews on the other side of the room. They had a lengthy discussion the day she first joined, both of them up in arms as if Heimerdinger had just assigned her to keep an eye on them. He had, but she had very little interest in doing so and told them as much.

“I keep to myself.” She’d said, “You’ll forget I’m even there.” Then, remembering that she was supposed to be an assistant, added, “Unless you need something, of course.”

They rarely ever need something, at least not something that they can’t already work out between the two of them. She feels a bit like a hanger-on, and an unwanted presence, but it’s better than expulsion. So she ignores the other side of the room as best she can and quietly flips through a textbook about whatever has her attention that month. Most recently it’s pottery, and she hopes that she might be able to sneak out of the room and try her hand at the wheel in the fine arts wing of the academy before it’s locked for the evening.

She peers up from her textbook to look at the clock on the wall. It’s just an hour until then and from what she can hear behind her it seems they are still very much in the middle of something. They probably wouldn't even notice if she were to go missing.

So she closes the cover on her book and tucks it under her arm, spinning around in her chair to announce that unless they need anything, she’s headed to another department for the end of the day, only to stop in place when she realises that Jayce is missing. “How long has he been gone?” She asks, more to herself than anyone else.

Viktor, who’s hunched over a pile of notes on the other side of the room gives her a dismissive gesture over his shoulder and doesn't even bother turning around. “Only fifteen minutes, he’s getting dinner.”

“I could have done that.”

He shrugs, “He thought you seemed busy.” and then, peering at her over his shoulder, “He also thought the walk might help clear his head.” She clutches tightly at the book under her arm, suddenly feeling a bit guilty about her plan to leave early, especially with the sun already setting and Viktor now alone in the room. She bristles, almost defensively, “He really should have asked me to do it, that’s the only thing I ever do around here.”

Viktor hums, “Indeed.” She wants to get angry at first, to snap at him. It wouldn't help any though, it’s not like the two of them really wanted an assistant. How infrequently they ever ask for her help is proof enough. They wanted her here as much as she wanted to be here: very little. Even still, they’re stuck together and letting Viktor have it over something that wasn’t his fault would only make things worse. So she bites her tongue.

“What did he need to clear his head of?” She asks, trying to wrench something from him that might result in at least a shred of goodwill, “Are you having trouble?”

In the month or so that she’s been sequestered in the back corner of the lab, she hasn't overheard anything more than a minor setback, the occasional explosion. Though in her mind, an explosion is still at least a lesson in what not to do. Progress is progress. This is the first time she’s seen either of them truly stumped.

“We’re at the edge of a breakthrough.” Viktor replies, “But we cannot seem to get over it.”

Decision made, she places her book back down on the desk and starts walking over to the other side of the room, “Hard spot to be in, are you just going through your notes?” He sighs, “For now, yes. Though it hasn’t helped any.”

His desk is large enough that there’s space for her to lean up beside him. He looks tired when he peers up at her, though from what she’s seen of him, that’s pretty normal. Positioned where she is, she covers up most of the setting sun as it streams in through the window, all but for one perfect beam of it that slices down the right side of Viktor’s face, straight across his eye. Her head tilts, had they always been so golden?

“Do you want to talk through it? I’m a good listener, and saying it out loud is probably more helpful than just re-reading your notes for the hundredth time.” His brow creases, and he leans back a little further in the chair. The beam of light hits his hair now, making it shine almost orange, “Eh, I suppose it couldn’t hurt, at least until Jayce comes back.” he tilts his head in the direction of Jayce’s desk, “Go get his chair, he won’t mind.”

She does as he says, wheeling the chair over and parking herself beside Viktor, resting her elbows on the desk. He shoots her a look out the corner of his eye, and she quickly removes her elbows. “Sorry.”

“Be careful with the things on my desk, I’d prefer it didn't become more disorganised than it already is.”

“Duly noted.” She replies, instead resting her hands in her lap and rotating her chair to face him a little more directly, “Ready when you are.”

She doesn't understand all that much about his explanation, though there are little moments here and there that resonate with her, or that sound familiar enough that she can grasp the concept. Some parts she recognises from hearing the two of them talking about it behind her, but overall she’s just stunned at his retention and how quickly he elaborates on such complex topics. She leans forward in her chair, watching intently at his sharp gesticulation and the way his brow creases when he struggles to find the right word. She nods along even though she doesn't completely understand because the important thing is to get him thinking about it, whether she understands doesn't matter one bit.

“-but we’ve already established that it cannot be done that way, so all of that work just needs to be thrown away and-” “Why not?” He stops mid-thought, eyes darting to hers, stunned to hear her speak after so long. He laughs, incredulous, “Why not ? We’ve already tried it and imploded.” She still doesn't quite understand the difference between imploding and exploding, but it's irrelevant, “Did you figure out why?”

“It was too hot. We couldn’t produce enough power inside of the casing without it imploding. We did try reducing the power and adjusting the-” He cuts himself off, suddenly turning back to the desk and resting his chin in his palm. His eyes dart across the various notes and blueprints sprawled there and then after a few agonising moments he lets out a breathless chuckle, “We never tried adjusting the casing for airflow.” She smiles, the feeling of it on her lips aching with an unfamiliar fondness, “There you go.” she stands from the chair and heads back over to her desk, “I suspect you’ll be busy until Jayce gets back, then. So I might head home.” a glance at the clock confirms that the fine art wing will be well closed by now, but she finds herself not minding all that much, “Enjoy your dinner.” At first, she thinks that he isn't going to answer, the room filled with the sound of a desperate pen scraping on paper, but just as she reaches the door, he whirls around in his chair and says, “Thank you, for permitting me to talk at you for almost an hour. It helped.” What are we now? She wonders.

“I’m glad.” She says.

___

What are we? She can’t help but ask herself, giggling at Jayce’s face when his finger is met with a strong zap from a prototype that Viktor had just told him not to touch.

She still sits on the other side of the room, still makes her way through a growing pile of assorted textbooks (philosophy, currently, operatic theory last month). But now it’s different. Now Jayce calls her name with an excited wave whenever they make a new development, and Viktor regularly uses her as a springboard when he can’t get his own thoughts straight. Her favorite thing though, is when she and Jayce sit cross-legged on the floor to eat lunch, unwilling to move any of the notes and prototypes strewn across the desks to create space for eating. Viktor is hard to pull from his desk, even at lunch, but with enough prodding from Jayce, he will at least spin his chair around to face the two of them while he eats instead of remaining hunched over his work.

“Okay! Okay!” Jayce says, instinctively shaking his injured hand as if to dissipate the last of the electricity, “Don’t touch, I get it.”

Viktor huffs, but she can tell he doesn’t really mean it, “All this time and he still doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.” his head inclines in her direction, his expression of false irritation shattered by the crooked curl at the corner of his lips, “Can you believe this? Even after my warning.” Another laugh bubbles up and out of her, “Wouldn’t be the first time he’s touched something he shouldn't.” Jayce points an accusatory finger in her direction, “Hey! You know I didn’t realise that pastry was yours, you can’t keep holding this over my head.”

Viktor quips back with something that she doesn't quite hear, and she just laughs before spinning her chair back around and returning to her textbook. The three of them must be friends now, she thinks, peering over her shoulder to see that Jayce and Viktor have returned to working on the prototype. At the very least, they like her well enough to tell her what they are working on, even though that information is still strictly confidential outside of the lab. She has their coffee orders memorised, which must mean something. It's been over six months now and while she doesn't have much to offer scientifically, she likes knowing she's there to bounce ideas off when nothing seems to stick. She smiles to herself, flipping through her newest textbook, but retaining very little of it. The new prototype behind her is loud , it's the sort of sound she could easily tune out if it wasn't constantly stop-starting and fluctuating in pitch.

From behind her, she hears a sudden panicked stream of consonants leave Viktor’s mouth and then the aching pitch of the prototype’s whirring begins to climb and climb until there’s a loud thunk when Jayce shuts off the power. Though her shoulders tense up beside her ears, she doesn’t feel the need to turn around, “Everyone alive back there?”

Jayce lets out a breathless, nervous laugh, “Yep!”

She hears the rhythmic click of Viktor’s cane as he crosses the room and then after a moment he says, “Just having trouble getting the new prototype to resonate the way the older one did.” “Hah.” She replies, “Just be careful, another interval up and we will have lost our windows.” Silence for a moment, and then Viktor asks, “ Why? ” She spins around in her chair, the two of them are standing by the prototype, both blinking at her owlishly. Her brow furrows, “The sound.” she says, gesturing in the direction of the machine, “It’s hitting just an interval down from a high C. It’s the resonate frequency of glass, a loud enough noise matching the pitch will-”

“Yes!” Jayce exclaims, beaming wide, “The glass would begin to vibrate and then shatter.” Viktor hooks his cane over his arm and leans backward against the desk, “And this is good news, how?” She stands from her desk, buzzing with excitement, “Your resonance problem. Maybe it isn’t just about the power being produced by the crystal, maybe it’s also about the sound .”

His eyebrows jump, and then settle into a thoughtful crease as he cups his chin with his palm. “If organic magic is cast by humans, it wouldn’t be a far reach to assume that there is also a vocal component.” he hums, “If we could find a way to adjust pitch without reducing power then…” he smiles and his eyes meet hers, “You spend a good deal of time in the music wing, yes?”

She nods, “Tuning forks?”

Viktor’s smile grows wider, “Ah, like you’ve read my mind.”

She isn’t used to walking around the halls of the academy with another person beside her. Though she’s pretty comfortable with Viktor and Jayce inside of the lab these days, they rarely, if ever, spend any time together outside of it. She arrives later than they do in the mornings and leaves earlier than they do in the evenings. These days she also goes out for lunch on her own and brings the food back with her. So she keeps peering over at Viktor to make sure she is matching pace with him, clenching and unclenching her hands at her sides because she doesn’t know what she should be doing with them.

“You study music, then?” Viktor asks after several minutes of walking in complete silence.

She startles at his voice, not expecting to hear it, “On and off.” He hums, “You keep busy.” “I usually lose interest if I stay with one subject too long.” She admits, tucking her hands in the pockets of her slacks.

The silence returns, thicker than before. Viktor’s cane clicks on the tiles, the sound at least keeps her in tempo with him, so she doesn’t need to focus as hard on how quickly she’s walking. She takes a quick peek at him and sees that he’s just staring forward. The two of them are passing by a set of windows and his profile looks very sharp when backlit by the afternoon sun. It isn't often that she sees him outside the dim lighting of the lab. His eyes turn to meet hers and she quickly busies herself with picking the already cracked nail polish on one of her fingers.

“Have we been of interest to you, then?” He says, the corner of his lips turning up in a smile, “Enough that you haven’t lost it?” She hadn’t really thought about it, for the most part, she still considered her time in the lab a requirement from higher-ups at the academy, but was that all it was anymore? She shrugs a shoulder, “For now.” she smirks, “Hard to lose my attention when you continually blow things up.” Viktor tuts, “There hasn’t been a single explosion this past month, besides, it’s all part of the scientific progress, yes?”

“If you say so, I’m not exactly an authority on the subject.” The two of them turn a corner and the angle of the sun changes, Viktor squints a little when the light hits his eyes, he sighs, “To think I was about to say that it’s nice to be out in the sun.” He lifts his free arm to cover his face from the light.

She laughs, ducking her head to hide her smile, “It’s just upset with you for spurning its advances for so long.”

His brows settle in a scowl, but she can’t help smiling wider when she realises that it doesn’t reach his eyes which instead shine with a playful warmth, “Very funny.”

“I try to be.” She increases her pace a little, turning around to face him. Her backward steps slow at the sight of Viktor awash in the bright light of the afternoon sun, squinting his eyes to keep her in focus. Her continued smile is almost involuntary as she beckons him closer, “C’mon, just down the hall. If we’re quick we can get you some more sun exposure on the way back.”

The older version of the prototype hums on the bench before her, crystal spinning in a consistent whirl. It’s far less refined than their newer attempt, still assembled with whatever pieces they could find around the lab and the metal casing jitters and quakes a little under the strain. She still likes the older prototype better, all its rough edges and shaky frame, it’s a whole lot less commercial than that new chrome casing they’ve been working to perfect, but progress is progress, she supposes. As she lays three of the tuning forks out in front of her, Viktor and Jayce peer down at her expectantly and she isn’t used to feeling intimidated, so she doesn’t like it all that much.

“I’m pretty good at picking notes by ear.” she begins, “But it’s more uh…mechanical sounding than I’m used to, zippy-” her brow creases, “or zappy? Maybe?” she gestures to the forks, “it’s somewhere within this range though.”

“Go on then!” Jayce says enthusiastically, “Give it a try!” She sucks a breath in through her teeth and grabs the fork that’s tuned to a G4, lightly tapping the prongs on the corner of the bench. The vibrations run up from her fingertips all the way to her elbow and the sound is inconsistent at first, until she raises the fork up vertically and holds her hand still. From behind her, she hears a sharp exhale of breath and then Viktor’s voice much closer than she was expecting.

“Got it in one.” He says, and she peers over her shoulder to find that he’s leaned in closer to observe. He smiles, “You do have a good ear.”

He’s right, the sound emanating from the fork matches the ethereal pitch coming from the Hextech prototype so exactly that the two sounds begin to merge. She can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips, “Well, I guess the two of you need to figure out how to get your new prototype to hit a G4.” She spins her chair around and passes the tuning fork to Viktor, the sound comes to an abrupt stop when the prongs make contact with his palm, “My work here is done, I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

She has the weekend off, and the day she comes back Jayce immediately grabs her hand and tugs her over to the other side of the lab with such enthusiasm that she almost topples over. She doesn't even have time to put down her bag. He beams from ear to ear as he positions her in front of the bench the prototype has taken up full-time residence on. Viktor is sitting at the bench, finishing up some last-minute wire connections when she arrives. He spins his chair to face her, and removes his goggles (leaving red rings around his eyes that she resists the urge to tease him about later) before rolling himself out of the way.

“Watch!” Jayce says enthusiastically, stepping towards the device and turning it on. As before, the crystal begins to spin, faster and faster, the casing whining under the pressure as the power builds but fails to resonate. Then from the other end of the desk, Viktor picks up a small remote connected by a set of wires and as he adjusts the knobs, the sound that the crystal creates adjusts in pitch, warbling and quivering until it settles confidently on a perfect clear G4.

A laugh escapes her, unbidden and she oddly feels like she might start crying. Jayce grabs both her hands and exclaims, “We did it!” “You did it!” She returns excitedly.

“ We did it.” Viktor corrects, and she suddenly realises that we now includes her.

Friends. She confirms to herself, standing up on her toes so she can wrap her arms around Jayce, she gazes at Viktor from over his shoulder and is pleased to find his eyes look especially warm when he smiles. Friends, she reiterates.

___

The next six months pass quickly. With the resonance problem fixed, the rest of the research and prototype building seemed to come easily, with only a few notable explosions. Most of the work was still theoretical and Viktor spent hours glowering at the blackboard while Jayce put things together and then pulled them apart. Lots of the original prototypes were cannibalised for parts and she hates to see them go. Jayce was a good sport when the first prototype they ever made had to be put in storage to clear up space, laughing with her as they wrote a terrible farewell poem for it. Viktor did rest a comforting hand on her shoulder as she acted out an exaggerated goodbye to the project because even though the faux waterworks were in jest, it was as if he could somehow tell that her insides ached at the ever-persistent march of change.

Much of the stress in the lab was around the looming threat of presenting their ideas to the council for more funding, diagrams needed to be drawn and chicken scratch notes needed to be copied into a much more legible format. That was her job for a while, hunching over her desk and transcribing notes, yelling at Jayce over her shoulder for his miserable handwriting and calling Viktor over for translations on what she started affectionately calling ‘Viktor-isms’

“You can’t keep giving new concepts names without explaining what they relate to.”

He scoffed, “I think it’s fairly obvious what an AOE Expansion Stabalisor is.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, incredulous, “Will it be obvious to Councilor Hoskel?”

Viktor cringed, “Ehh…allow me to draw up a diagram.”

Her best asset these days is her ability to boil down complicated concepts to their most simple forms. To essentially translate the inner workings of geniuses to something comprehensible by the layman. She has a large bound book that she is compiling all of the most essential notes into and a presentation that she is helping Jayce to draft.

“Oh, I’ll help you write it, but I’m not speaking.” Jayce huffed, “But Viktor says he doesn’t want to speak either! It’ll just be me up there.” She laughed and gently punched him in the shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll knock ‘em dead, big guy.”

They aren’t just friends anymore. They’re something else. Something closer to family. She spends more time in the lab than she used to, abandoning her textbooks to instead work on the presentation, to sit and listen as Viktor goes on one of his hour-long rambles that slowly starts to become more comprehensible the more she listens to them. She likes listening to them. The smiles on their faces when she first decided to come in on a weekend even though she didn’t have to are still burned into her brain. Jayce’s smile was as bright as it always is, while Viktor’s was subtler, quieter; but to her, it was utterly incandescent and she couldn’t shake it from the corners of her mind for the next few hours.

“Miss?” A voice says, ripping her from her musings and back into the present.

She blinks a few times, remembering where she is and then replies, “Sorry, Professor Heimerdinger, what did you ask?”

“No worries at all, dear girl.” He says, adjusting himself in his seat, “It’s been over a year now since I first asked you to work in the Hextech lab and I just wanted to make sure the three of you were getting along.”

“We are.” She replies sincerely, “Very well.” Viktor falls asleep in the lab sometimes. One winter afternoon she found him asleep at his desk and couldn’t bear to wake him up, so quickly and quietly, she left the lab and hurried across campus to her dorm room to grab one of her spare blankets. He hadn’t stirred while she was gone, so she took the time to tuck it around his shoulders before returning to her desk. Jayce cames in an hour later and she gestured furiously to Viktor’s sleeping form before he could let out one of his usual, very loud greetings. Holding a finger to his lips, Jayce nodded and they both silently returned to work. The blanket lives in the lab now.

“That’s good, very good,” Heimerdinger says with a nod. His white eyebrows curve in a sympathetic arch and he leans forward in his chair, “I know that it was a shock to find that your patron had withdrawn their support last year, and while this likely wasn’t what you wanted I hope that it was of some value to you.” He laughs, “Though I do also think those boys need someone keeping an eye on them.”

She laughs, “Even now? They’re making steady progress, I’m not certain they need much monitoring.” “I know from experience that a scientist can so easily become trapped in a box of his own making, but with all your studying and your knowledge across such a wide breadth of subjects, I’m not sure those boys could keep you in a box if they tried.” He smiles softly, “They need that, or they won’t get anywhere.”

“Oh… thank you.” She mutters, pretending to be very interested in whatever is going on outside the window to avoid having to reconcile what sounded like a very genuine compliment.

“You don’t have to stay in the lab with them if you no longer want to.” Heimerdinger says quietly, “I’m essentially your patron now and I can easily assign you to another department if-” “No!” She says sharply, then shakes her head, “Sorry, that was rude. Um, I mean, no thank you. I’m happy where I am.” Heimerdinger chuckles to himself, “Well then, are you majoring in the sciences after all?” She snorts, “ No , I don’t have the brains for it.”

Two weeks ago she caught a miscalculation in Jayce’s notes, prevented the destruction of yet another prototype. It was just pattern recognition though, she’d become so familiar with the strings of numbers and formulas in their notes that the anomaly practically screamed out to her in bleeding red writing. She was better at understanding what they spoke about now, and able to help with wiring when either of them needed extra hands, but that’s just retention, muscle memory.

Despite her depreciation, Heimerdinger smiles knowingly, “That, I find hard to believe.”

Just a week later she sits next to Viktor in the council room, eyes darting across the expressions of the council members trying to gauge any sort of reaction. She knew they had Councillor Medarda’s vote at the very least, but she’d never even been in the council room before now and had absolutely no way of knowing what direction each of them swayed.

He must see the look on her face, because, in hushed tones, Viktor starts giving her the limited information he has, “Hoskel will vote the same direction as Medarda” he begins, leaning close to her ear, “Kiramman has a soft spot for Jayce, Heimerdinger has hopefully swung in our direction but other than that, I have no idea.”

She swallows and turns to look at him, “No, thank you, that helps.” she heaves an uneasy breath in her throat, “I don’t like it in here.” Viktor chuckles, “Me either, but look at Jayce go, there’s a reason he’s the face of this operation.”

It’s true, he’s a natural. While she sits completely tense in the shadows, he gesticulates just enough and speaks at just the right volume. She spent so long helping him to perfect the script for the presentation that she can practically follow it along with him.

Then it comes time for him to show the new prototype, the final version, the one that sings a perfect G4 and resides in a casing that doesn’t rattle or whine even when the gemstone is generating full power. She’s so nervous that her breath catches in her lungs and doesn’t come back out, from her side she can hear Viktor’s foot tapping a frantic rhythm against the tiles. Without even thinking it through, her hand finds his and grabs it tight. He doesn’t pull back, if anything he holds hers even tighter and they both hold their breath as Jayce activates the prototype.

A clear and beautiful G4 fills the room, an angelic hum that sounds like magic in and of itself. When all the tensed muscles in her body release, it takes all her willpower not to burst into tears or laughter of utter relief and when she turns to Viktor he looks exactly the way she feels; exhilarated, soft and warm after months of anxiety just melted from him. He smiles and oh god.

The question becomes more singular, we now refers to two people instead of three and oh god , what are we?

___

What are we? She wonders one year later, frozen in the doorway of her childhood bedroom, holding her breath as if it will prevent him from noticing she’s there. Viktor stands beside her single bed, weight resting on his cane as he leans forward to peek at the old doodles she pinned to the corkboard years ago. He’s smiling.

Bringing both Jayce and Viktor to her father’s house had not been on the docket earlier in the day, but sometimes fate has its own ideas. The next and hopefully last presentation to the council is coming up tomorrow morning and they have spent the last few months working on a 1:250 scale recreation of the final idea. It took a long time, but it’s finally gotten to the point that they can reliably transport a medium-sized object from one side of the room to the other and if they push the power, they can even manage to move something halfway across campus.

It was her idea to provide a more accurate visual aid, that if they were planning to push the project as a vessel for trade routes, the council would likely grasp the idea better if the object they were transporting actually looked like a dirigible, instead of the old metal crate they had been using during tests. While Jayce agreed with the idea, it had come pretty late during preparation and he was worried that there wouldn’t been time to get it finished while they also worked together on drafting the presentation. It was Viktor who insisted on building it.

“I used to assemble these sorts of contraptions for fun .” He’d said, already arranging a collection of metal pieces on his workbench, “Besides, I’m going to be far more useful working on this than I am working on your script.” He peered at her from over his shoulder, “I don’t share your gift for linguistics.”

So while she and Jayce poured over notes and collected the most legible blueprints they had available, Viktor tinkered at his desk, welding and folding metal. It didn’t take him long at all to finish it, two whole days in the lab with very brief breaks for meals when she or Jayce forced him to eat something and a trip or two to the textile department for the fabric components. She had a great deal of fun inflating the miniature airship and shooting it back and forth through the miniature Hexgate, but the night before the presentation they were overcome with concern at just how long it took for the dirigible to appear on the other side of the room.

Viktor huffed and pushed his hair out of his face as he stared at it, “It should only take a second for it to make the journey, but now it’s taking four .” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “It must be something to do with the shape? Previously we were using a square object, far less complex.”

So he and Jayce set to adjusting the prototype while she made a few last-minute changes to Jayce’s speech. The problem came when they tested the Hexgate one last time, they had overcorrected and the dirigible emerged on the other side of the room at a greater forward velocity than they had been expecting and collided directly with a pile of discarded scrap metal. Her head shot up from her desk just in time to watch as it started falling to the ground, kicking her chair out from behind her and diving for the airship, letting out a grunt as the heavy object landed in her arms.

Luckily she had been quick enough on her feet to prevent any structural damage, but the collision had torn a hole in the fabric and unless they managed to get that fixed before the sun came up, it wasn’t going to fly during the presentation.

“It’s okay!” She said quickly, the moment she caught the look of quiet horror on the inventors’ faces, “The textile wing will be closed, but I have a sewing machine.” “In your dorm?” Jayce asked, expression quickly losing the air of misery it had just a moment ago.

She grimaced, “No. not in my dorm and you’ll both have to come, I can’t carry this thing on my own and I probably need to disconnect the fabric so I can put it through the machine.”

Presently, her hand grips tightly to the open doorway, still holding her breath as she watches Viktor rest his cane against the bedside table and take a seat on her childhood bed, leaning down quickly to rub at the muscles in his bad leg. When his eyes dart up and he sees her, he freezes, “Oh, hello.” he clears his throat, “I got lost.” She snorts, “How could you get lost in a two-bedroom house?” she leans against the doorframe, unable to stop her smile, “You’re a terrible liar.” “I wasn’t lying.” “If you say so.” She replies, looking down at her toes just to avoid the broiling gold of his eyes, “I’ve got the machine set up on the kitchen table, so if you’re done snooping -” “I wasn’t snooping .” He interrupts.

She crosses her arms, finding that she likes the incredulous expression he’s making, almost as much as she likes seeing the sharp lines of him juxtaposed with her soft floral bedsheets, “Then what were you doing?”

He sits up straight, loosely gesturing to her corkboard, “Admiring your work.” His expression settles into a soft smile, “Were you looking to study textiles when you joined the academy?” It’s been a long time since she’s been in this room. She visits when she gets the chance, but always heads back to her dorm instead of staying the night. The corkboard is covered with old clothing designs, swatches of fabric, and a button here and there. She shakes her head, “No, not really. It’s uh, it’s the family business. I haven’t thought about it all that much since taking up studying.”

“You said that your father wouldn't be here.” She nods, “He’s at the workshop, tomorrow is the busiest day of the week. He usually stays there the night before so he can get a head start in the morning.” a sigh escapes her, “My mother used to force him to come home every night, but, well…” Viktor doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

“My patron was one of my father’s customers. He offered to do his alterations free so long as he took care of my patronage at the academy.” She chews on her lower lip, not really sure why she is telling him all of this, “I think he expected to make some money from me, that I was some sort of genius, but I was indecisive and refused to major in anything, so he withdrew support.” Viktor laughs, “Bad luck for him then.” he says, wincing a little as he pulls himself back up from the bed, “You’re one-third of Hextech now.” She hums aloud as he crosses the room, shifting in the doorway to give him space to slip past. “Yeah,” she replies and the hand not on his cane rests briefly on her upper arm as he passes, lingering maybe a little longer than it needed to, “I guess I am.”

Her body goes slack against the doorframe, her chest expanding with a warm sigh as she watches him turn the corner to the kitchen, clearly not lost. Their relationship hasn’t changed all that much in the past year, they joke around a lot more and physical contact is more common, though it’s little more than a hand on a shoulder or the usual tight handholding at any and all presentations they give to the council. They’re friends, she reasons and whatever in her heart is telling her that it’s something else is just causing problems, an unnecessary ache. She sighs again, peering into her bedroom and imagining him still sitting there, smiling at her. It’s only when Jayce calls her name that she manages to recollect herself, calling out a quick, “I’m coming!” before they start wondering why she’s lagging behind.

___

Has something changed? She wonders. Even with the tall ceilings and open windows, the ballroom she’s trapped in feels suffocating. She sucks a shaky breath in through her teeth and continues clutching the stem of a champagne glass she’s been holding for over an hour now without actually drinking it. Jayce is planning to give an address shortly, about the success of the recently completed Hexgates, but he rightly refuses to start until Viktor arrives and it’s been long enough that she’s starting to worry he may have decided not to come altogether.

The last two and a half years were the most difficult for the three of them. A project of such an enormous scale takes up a lot of time and a great deal more hands than the team alone could provide. Viktor quickly learned that he hated working with other people, and most nights at the lab were spent making changes to blueprints, running tests and complaining about the construction team.

“I swear-” Viktor began one day, furiously scribbling notes on a blueprint, “-I wouldn’t be surprised to find that one of those people ate all of our crystals just because I didn’t specially label them inedible .” She’d laughed, sitting at the desk next to him and updating the construction resources with less technical language, “Be nice. If I hadn’t been eavesdropping on you for three years I probably wouldn’t know what any of this stuff means either.” Viktor sighed, “You’ve done much more than eavesdrop .” his pen stilled for a moment and his golden eyes met hers, “I can be nice, I promise.” Without thinking, she’d let her head drop to rest on his shoulder, “I know you can.” He made no move to shift her off of him, even though the weight of her head was surely going to affect the use of his dominant hand. After a lapse of comfortable silence, he let out a chuckle and inclined his head in her direction, “That cannot be comfortable.” “It’s not.” She admitted, “Your shoulder’s pointy.” “and yet you are not moving.” “That’s right.”

“Suit yourself.” He replied, his voice barely a whisper. Before quietly returning to his writing.

Jayce grabs her attention from across the room, gesticulating wildly. She knows him well enough to immediately recognise that he is asking if she has any idea where Viktor is. All she can respond with is a concerned shrug before pointing to the nearest door, implying that she will go look for him. Jayce smiles in thanks and then returns to the gaggle of investors surrounding him. The champagne finally gets drunk, it probably would have been nicer an hour ago when it was still cold, but she needs two hands to maneuver her dress. The glass clinks when she leaves it on the nearest flat surface and starts heading to the doors, half considering never coming back, whether she finds Viktor or not.

Not that she ever makes it through the door, because she almost bumps headlong into him as he makes his way inside.

“Viktor!” She exclaims, half shocked and half relieved to see him.

His mouth twitches up in a smile, “Sorry I’m late, outfit problems.” Her eyes dart down involuntarily. His suit is mossy green and the colour brings out the gold in his eyes. He looks good and she is about to say so when she notices the rudimentary steel and leather brace on his leg. Her chest cavity fills with the ice-cold chill of dread and Viktor must see it on her face because he quickly supplies an explanation.

“Never many chairs at these things.” he says, gesturing to the brace, “A precautionary measure.”

She wants to believe him, wants so badly to believe him. The calculations all match up in her head though, him an hour late, the brace clearly made and not purchased. Four and a half years is a long time to watch someone, especially when watching as intently as she has been for at least the last two. He places more weight on his cane than he used to, and struggles to do anything that involves both hands while standing up. Even from across the lab, she can hear the way he hisses each time he has to rise from his chair and when the setting sun streams in through the window the same way it did that first month in the lab, the shadows settle deep in the hollow of his cheeks.

“Good idea.” She forces herself to say, ignoring all of the evidence because any other explanation would be preferable. Instead, she returns to what she had intended to say from the beginning, a truth far less daunting, “You look very nice, by the way. Can’t even tell you had outfit problems.” He laughs, though it sounds a little too much like a wheeze, “You’re too kind. Anyway, let’s go find Jayce before he starts worrying.” They’ve already missed the boat on that one, Jayce is in the midst of a nervous sweat when they make their way over. His eyes also dart down to the brace on Viktor’s leg, but she watches in real-time as he dismisses the thought, gives the both of them a quick hug and shakes the nerves off before his address.

“I’m surprised you survived so long without me,” Viktor says cheekily as Jayce heads over to grab Councillor Medarda’s attention.

“So am I.” She replies, peering up at him with a smile, “You know I hate these big events.” Viktor returns her smile and his face melts into such a warmth that all the signs of deterioration seem imaginary for just a moment. Somewhere across the room, Councillor Medarda clinks her glass to grab the attention of the room, but right before Jayce begins his address, Viktor leans down to her ear and whispers, “You look very nice too, sorry I didn’t say so earlier.”

The feeling of those words resonates so warmly in her chest that she can’t resist holding onto them and just as Jayce steps forward, just as the usual nerves begin to set in, Viktor’s hand reaches out and grabs hers tight. The way it always does. She smiles softly to herself and rubs her thumb across the protrusion of his knuckles in thanks. Maybe nothing has changed, not really, she might just be imagining it. Even if the bones in his fingers feel more pronounced.

Applause fills the room when Jayce finishes, at one point he even has the good grace to point out where she and Viktor are standing in the crowd, which she hates , but knows she should appreciate. He’s his usual ball of sunshine self when he comes over, beaming wide and wrapping his arms around the two of them.

“That went great !” He exclaims, hands still shaking with the usual adrenaline associated with speech giving, “I can’t believe that we’re closing the chapter on Hexgates, whoo!” Viktor chuckles and pats Jayce on the arm, “It’s still early days yet, lots of time for things to go wrong and lots of modification on the horizon.” “I know, I know . It still feels good though, doesn’t it? To have finished something?”

She laughs, “This is probably the first thing I’ve ever finished in my life, so thank you.” her eyes drift to Viktor and then quickly back to Jayce, “Both of you.”

“To finishing things!” Jayce exclaims suddenly, and follows up with, “Wait, we need drinks, one second!” “A veritable font of energy as always,” Viktor says a few seconds after Jayce disappears.

“Pretty sure he’s already had a few drinks.” Viktor looks at her cheekily, “For the nerves, I’m sure.”

“Oh yeah, definitely just for the nerves.” She replies, watching as Jayce gets caught by another throng of investors on his way over to the bar. She sighs, “Poor guy, I’m glad I don't have his charisma.” Viktor hums aloud, “Do you think he’ll know to check the balcony when he comes back?”

“It’s only the place we always frequent at these events.” His eyes light up, “That’s a yes, then?”

“Always will be.” She replies, trying not to get lost in the way his eyes crinkle in the corners. She clears her throat, “Let’s hurry, it’s too hot in here.”

It’s like a shock of electricity when his free hand presses against the small of her back and when she peers up at him to find he is already looking down at her, the question rises once again, unbidden. What are we?

#bree writes occasionally #viktor/reader #arcane #arcane fanfic #viktor x reader #viktor arcane

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darthannie · 1 year ago

Text

thesis statement

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader Summary: You accidentally bump into your Professor, Jim, at a sex shop. Word count: 3.3k Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is ~25, Jim is ~45), alcohol consumption (a few sips of wine), kissing, praise, soft dom! Jim kinda, fingering, p in v, Jim takes his time, a smidge of cockwarming, idk what else to put here! a/n: There will probably be a part two where they explore their little arrangement a bit more. Maybe it'll turn into something longer. I love Jim sm. I also want him to FUCK you know. We’ll get there, but I was feeling a lil soft. Also hmmm i wonder why Jim was at the sex shop in the first place.

It was around 5 pm on a Sunday and you were really in need of something new. Very in need. Your old toy just wasn’t cutting it anymore. To remedy this it was time for a trip to Deluxxx, your neighborhood sex shop. Your friend, Nadia, knew someone who worked there and you’d go there for all your wants and needs. You strolled in and gave a wave to the person behind the counter.

“Hey, David! How’s the shop been treating ya?”

They looked around at the empty shop, “Hey! It’s slow but I can’t complain. What are you in for?”

You sighed, “You remember that last toy I bought?“

”No way, does it suck?! It was so expensive.”

“No, no it’s great! Gets the job done, waterproof, 10 settings-“

“So what’s the problem”, they asked.

You gestured in front of yourself with both hands, “It’s just… a little too small?"

They laughed and threw their head back. “Of course. Well lucky for you we got something new in recently that you might like. It’s in the back aisle, bottom shelf.”

You thanked them and made your way to the back. You crouched down to find the one David was telling you about. It was definitely bigger than the one you had. And thicker. It didn’t have any extra frills but that wasn’t what you were looking for. You snapped a picture and sent it to Nadia with “new bf” as the caption. You let out a little laugh that was more like an exhale as you got up. Nadia has been nagging you about needing a boyfriend and you said you were just going to buy a new one. You were still looking at your phone as you turned to exit the aisle and bumped into someone. The apology on your lips died as you recognized the person in front of you as Jim, your professor and thesis advisor.

His jaw went slack for a moment and his eyes widened as he recognized you. You were the last person he’d expect to see there but it wasn’t an unwelcome sight. He enjoyed teaching you, not knowing whether it was your interest in the subject or the fact he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He broke eye contact for a moment, scanned your body, took note of the item in your hand, and then met your eyes again. You were suddenly very aware of your surroundings and before anyone could say anything he cleared his throat, said “Excuse me” and walked past you.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive and it was becoming clear why you did not have a boyfriend. You wanted him. This wasn’t a new revelation by any means. Nadia was in the same class as you, and she bugged you about it almost daily. You hadn’t expected him to find you in such a vulnerable position. You collected yourself and walked swiftly to the counter and paid. Jim was long gone. You said your goodbyes to David and you texted Nadia to let her know what happened.

She called you almost immediately and opened by saying, “So you know you gotta fuck him now. Like you have to. You don’t have an option. You MUST”. You laughed. There was absolutely no way Jim wanted you. You let her know as much and she disagreed.

“There’s no way he doesn’t want you. Come on. All the silent stares in class. Asking you to stay after. Constant emailing about things that have nothing to do with class. I mean who just emails their student a TED talk because they thought of them? All signs point to him wanting you. AND what about that one day where you teased him about not having a ring on his finger, and he just said I’m working on it? You know there was this smile he gave you afterward that I don’t think you caught. You were too busy hiding the blush on your face”

“I know I know.” You relented, “I don’t know, it just seems so far-fetched!”

You knew that was the logical response but something was telling you Nadia was right. He had to have known that his voice sent a shiver down your spine. That you wanted him to take you right there on the table after class. You had caught him staring during class. Maybe she had a point. You couldn’t help but wonder if he really did want you too.

Later on in the day, you got into the shower. Scalding hot water hit your back. You couldn’t help but recount the events from earlier. He had lingered, looked at the item in your hand, and raised an eyebrow. You would’ve been embarrassed if he didn’t already feel so familiar.

Soft music played as you lathered a silky body wash along your body. Your mind started to wander, thinking about what it would be like if it were his hands instead of yours. You rinsed off the soap, running your hands over your arms and breasts all while imagining they were his. You turned off the water, dried off, and headed towards the bag you placed on your small table.

You unpackaged your new toy and went back to the bathroom to clean it. Getting back to bed, you lied down and opened up an incognito tab on your phone. You looked for some porn to watch. Once you found an adequate video, you relaxed and continued to watch. The man in the video touched the woman’s body in all the right places. He laid her down and kissed up her thighs before starting to eat her out. This was enough for you to start teasing yourself with the toy, feeling the weight of it on your clit. Suddenly the video was unnecessary. All you could think about was Jim.

You positioned it just right and started to insert it. You gasped as you felt how it stretched you out. This was what you needed. You paused the video, throwing your phone on the side to focus on the task at hand. You put the rest of it inside you and let yourself adjust to the size. You began to move the toy as you thought of him. You wondered if he felt this good. He had to feel better than this. You got off that night thinking about him and only him. When you finally came down from your high you grabbed some water, cleaned your toy, and got straight to bed.

You didn’t want what happened yesterday to impact your experience in class so you decided to just go on like nothing happened.

You headed to the bathroom and began going through the movements of the morning. Before you knew it you were by the building where class was held. A bit further down the sidewalk was Jim walking from the opposite direction. The both of you got to the door at the same time. He didn’t say a thing. He just gave you a polite, awkward smile as he opened the door for you. You returned the smile and walked in. Side by side you walked to the classroom. This time you opened the door for him. You watched as he entered and mentally prepared yourself to take a class. It was just the two of you in the room. You sat at the round table with your laptop in front of you trying your best to seem busy.

He broke the silence, “Did you have a nice weekend?”

You summoned a response, “Yes, actually, I was able to spend some time with myself.”

He quipped back, “Oh, I’m sure you were.”

Your eyes widened trying to process what he said. He let out a light chuckle as another student arrived. The class was full within the next five minutes. Nadia walked in and looked between you and him. She smirked at you. The air was buzzing for the next two hours. You could cut the tension between you two if you tried hard enough. You asked and answered questions like usual. Each time you spoke he paid extra attention to you. When class ended you began gathering your things slowly, hoping you were the last in the class. Nadia leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Just don’t do it by my seat.” You gave her a light slap on the arm and she laughed. Then, it was just you and him. He approached you and spoke softly.

“Listen, I apologize if I overstepped a boundary with the joke I made earlier. I thought it would help ease the tension if, I don’t know-“

“It’s alright, Professor. We’re both mature adults who can bump into each other at a sex shop and move on with our lives.” You got up ready to leave but he spoke.

“Since when am I Professor?”, he asked.

You looked at him confused. He clarified, “Since when do you call me Professor? You never call me Professor.”

You cleared your throat, “Well I just thought we should reestablish a professional boundary since the- you know. Keep the personal and the professional separate.”

He looked at you, pensive for a moment. He moved a bit closer to you. “Well, what if we don’t keep it separate?”

Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening. “Are you serious?”

“Very.” He lowered his voice a bit and moved closer. He ran his hand down your arm. His mouth was now near your ear. There was no chance someone else was going to hear him, but he whispered anyway. “I think you should come over tonight. If you want to.”

“Yeah, I want to.” You mentally cursed yourself for caving in so quickly.

“How’s seven?, he asked.

“Seven’s good.” Your head was spinning. This was happening.

“I’ll also need your number so I can send you the address.” He handed you his phone with a new contact page open. You entered it in, gave him a shy smile, and turned to leave.

He grabbed your wrist before you were able to move away from him. “By the way, leave your new purchase at home. You’re not going to need it.”

Summoning some courage, you leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t close the gap all the way. “Let’s save it for tonight.”, he said as he pulled away. He gathered his things without looking at you and left.

When you returned home you threw your stuff down and immediately called Nadia. “I KNEW IT!" she yelled. “I KNEW that’s why you hung back. God, it was so tense between you two.”

“You could tell?” You didn’t think it was that obvious until she chuckled and said that everyone could tell. The rest of the conversation consisted of Nadia giving you a pep talk and making her promise you’d tell her everything.

As time passed you got more nervous. Around six you received a text from him telling you to wear something comfortable, along with his address. You sent a very quick response and, per his request, put on something comfortable. It would end up on the floor anyway. He didn’t live very far from you, which was lucky. You wondered if this would be a one-time thing. What would class be like now? I graduate soon anyway, you thought. If this all went south you could just forget it happened. You got to his apartment a couple of minutes before 7 and he let you up. When you got to the door you knocked twice and waited.

You’d never seen him so casual and… nervous. “Please, come in! You can put your things wherever you’d like,” he said.

You looked around at his apartment. You could tell a professor lived there. Bookshelves lined the walls. On the dining table, there was a bottle of wine with two glasses. You put down your bag near the door. You didn’t know what to do with your hands. He noticed your apprehension.

“Do you like wine? I got a nice Malbec after class today. Thought we could crack open a bottle.”

“Yes, I’d like that very much.”

“Nerves?”

“Yeah.”, you confirmed.

“Me too. But, uh, there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me.”

He smiled and the tension in your body slipped away. It was replaced by a sense of calm. Jim was letting you into his home, and into his life. You sat down at the table and he removed the cord from the bottle. You watched his hands work, feeling eager to get them on you. But that had to wait, he was about to take his time. He poured you and himself a glass. You sat across from him and took a sip, hoping its effects would be immediate.

“I’m glad you came. You know, I thought you’d think I was too old for you.” And he might’ve been. Twenty years was a healthy gap but it wasn’t anything you wouldn’t indulge in. Hell, if you could, you’d date him.

“Not at all.” You replied. “I can’t lie, I’ve been thinking about it all year.”

“About what?”, he pushed.

“About… seeing you.”

“You can say it.” He noticed your blush.

“I want to hear you say it.”, he egged you on.

You sighed, trying to muster up the words. “I’ve been thinking about… being with you all year.”

“And doing what?”, he took another sip of his wine and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to say it?”

“Yes.”, There was no way you would be able to admit it to him fully.

“You want your professor to fuck you. You want me to take you to my room, undress you, and take care of you better than anyone ever has.”

Your face was red. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” You drank from your glass.

“Come here.”, he spoke softly and you got up. “Straddle me, love.”

You sat on his lap and he looked up at you, grinning ear to ear. He brought his hand up to your neck and pulled you down to kiss him. It was brief. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. Then he kissed you again. And, again. Then, he started kissing your neck. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan as you felt him getting hard underneath you. He kissed and nipped at your skin. His hands reached the hem of your shirt and he pulled it off before you could register it happening. Once it did, you helped him out of his.

He tapped your ass a couple times, silently saying get up. He walked you backward and pushed you up against a nearby wall. He started removing a bra strap, but you stopped him.

“Well don’t get shy on me now.”, he chuckled. “Come.” He reached out his hand and you grabbed it. He led you down the hall to his bedroom and you sat down on the bed. You took your cues from him. As he started to lean over, you began to lay down. His hand was unhooking your bra with one hand. He was finicking with it and after a few moments, it was off. The cool air hitting your nipples caused them to rise. Jim kissed you again, then kissed down your neck, and finally put his hands on you. He licked, sucked, and grabbed your breasts.

“You’re so beautiful. Even more gorgeous than I could have imagined. Baby, I need to taste you.”

You wanted to protest but your pants were already coming off. Your panties followed. He groaned, “Fuck, baby, all this for me?

Before you could respond he kissed the inside of your thigh, then down, down, down until he reached your pussy. You were so wet for him already. He used his fingers first, wanting to feel you first.

“You always get this wet for your Professor?”

“Yes.”, you responded breathlessly. His fingers were moving in and out of you. Slowly at first and then faster. He hit that perfect spot each time. Then he added his mouth. This time he didn’t go slow. He was licking and sucking on your clit. You moaned out his name and he smiled. He ate you out like his life depended on it. No one had ever done this to you. No one had ever paid this much attention to your body. You were a whimpering mess. His hand found its way back to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He then squeezed, hard, which made you load loudly.

“Please Jim, I’m gonna cum.”, you plead.

He got you close to the edge and then pulled away. You whimpered at the loss of him. “Please, keep going.”

“No, if you’re gonna cum, I’m gonna be inside of you.” He took off the rest of his clothing. You moaned at the sight of him. He was right. You would never need the toy again. You couldn’t wait for him to be inside of you. He knew this and instead decided to tease you with his cock. He dragged it along you and tapped your clit the same way you did with your toy at home. Only this was a hundred times better.

He nipped at your ear and whispered. “You really want it, huh?”

“Yes,” you begged “It’s all I want.”

He grinned and entered you slowly and without warning. Your jaw dropped slightly. You couldn’t even make a sound, you were too busy with the feeling of him filling you up entirely. He let out a sigh and grabbed your chin.

“Look at me. Open your eyes. Look at me while I fuck you.” You did as he said. He started to pick up the pace. He was making this intimate. He caressed your face and made almost as much noise as you did. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl, following directions. Ready for another one?” You nodded.

“Get on top. Sit down on my cock.” You started moving before he even finished his sentence. There was no room for shyness anymore. He sat up against the headboard as you sunk down on him; the new angle was doing wonders for the both of you. He thrusted up, wanting to feel more of you. He held you close to him as you began to ride him.

“You sure know how to treat a girl, Professor.”, you said breathlessly.

He chuckled and kissed you. “You sure know how to treat your Professor. You’re being so good for me. Such a good girl.”

His hand found its way back to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles. He wanted to make sure you came first.

And you did.

It came in waves. You felt it build up and told him you were close. Then, you fell apart. You pulled him close and kissed him passionately. He wrapped his arms around you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you came.

“That’s it, baby. So, so good for me. God, such a pretty little thing.“ He took control, holding you up and thrusting into you. The sensation was almost too much to bear.

“Where do you want it.”, he asked.

“Inside. Please. I’m on the-“

“Are you sure, love?” You could tell he couldn’t wait any longer.

You begged, “Yes. Yes, I am, just please cum inside me.”

And he did.

He filled you to the brim. You felt him twitch inside of you as his hips stuttered. He held onto you so tightly you were sure it would leave marks. You were both breathing hard. He stayed inside of you and held you against him. He put his forehead against yours as you regained your breath.

He kissed you again, this time not wanting to pull away. But, you did. You pulled yourself off of him and laid down as the realization of what you did started sinking in. He lied down next to you and stared at the ceiling.

Silence. And after a few moments, you turned your head and spoke.

“So, is this it?” It came out more timid than you would have liked it to.

He gave you a look you couldn’t quite place and after a moment he said, “Oh, love, you’re mine now.”

#jim the delinquent season x reader #jim delinquent season #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #jim delinquent season x reader #jim delinquent season x f!reader #professor!jim x reader #i proofread this but no one is perfect #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #annie writes

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washeduphazbin · 2 months ago

Text

Vox NSFW Headcannons

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

One would think he wouldn't know what aftercare was, considering he'd lived with Valentino for so long. However, sleeping with Vox was pleasantly surprising. He is very attentive after sex, and you wondered if it was something he carried over from his time alive. Water is always by the bedside, and it gets you snacks if needed or even a hot or cold compress. Sometimes, his screen can get really bright, and he has a custom-made sleeping mask just for you if you get overstimulated after sex.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Vox: He likes his claws; he can be delicate with them, but they can get the work done when necessary.

You: Vox loves your skin; he likes how fragile you feel beneath his fingers.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Unlike many others in Hell, I think Vox is one of the rare men who doesn’t have a raging breeding kink. As long as you both get off, he doesn’t really care where he cums, inside or out. Although…on your face always paints a pretty picture.

His cum is thick and sticky and has a blue bioluminescence feature to it. Like you're (literally) turning on a computer. He cums a lot and has a shorter refractory period than most.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to tie you up in the cables in his ‘lair’. His wires snug around your body accentuating the right parts. Vox would have full control of you, your body, and your movement. The millions of cameras in his lair would be pointed on you and set to record so he never misses a moment of you being ravaged. The way your fucked out face would appear on the millions of screens in front of you both would leave him with enough material to jack off alone for an entire year.

He also absolutely has stolen several pairs of your underwear.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Vox absolutely knows what he’s doing, he’s been with Valentino of all people. As fucked up as Val’s kinks are he has taught Vox a significant amount of his skills.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl.

It’s no secret that this man gets turned on my power. Usually specifically his own, he likes being in control. **BUT** when you take control and top him he’s GONE. Insanely turned on at how you ride him into the ground.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Vox is absolutely not goofy in bed. He’s more serious, he can be a bit snarky with you both quipping back and forth but he takes it seriously. Especially after being with Valentino where sex meant so little, now he treats it like love making.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

So. He has a TV for a head. So, carpets will never match the drapes. I think he wouldn’t have a lot (or any) hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s learned to be more romantic as the two of you progressed your relationship. Again going from Valentino to you was whiplash. At first he assumed you’d like the same stuff his ex liked but that was not the case, especially for your first time sleeping with one another.

Now he’s very romantic. He leaves you flowers every time he enters your room in the tower. When he has to leave for work he always sets up a little breakfast for you. In bed he’s much more attentive than he was at the beginning.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Oh boy, does he. He usually does it when you're not available for an extended period. If you were there, he'd much rather bury himself in your dripping pussy.

That being said, Vox absolutely has a shrine of things he’s stolen from you, mainly your panties. He uses them to jerk off, either fisting his dick with your underwear wrapped around his hand or pressing the crotch to his screen, taking in the scent of you. Other things in the shrine include your perfume, your rings, and a picture of you covered in a blue substance. The only other time he masturbates is if you make him do it in front of you, and god was that hot.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Has a mommy kink and a praise kink. Tell him he's doing an excellent job while your pussy's dripping on his face, and it's a surefire way to crash his systems. Yet, at the same time, he loves to be degraded or have anything that has to do with you being in control of him. He's also into electric stimulation, obviously. Likes when you make him bluescreen. Some errors include. _ERROR_(Y/n)'s_Pussy_too_Good.exe _ERROR_Mommy's_Punishing_Me.exe

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere, anytime. If you're both horny, he'll drag you off somewhere to blow off steam. He gets a rush from fucking in public where the press could catch them, but in reality, that would be his worst nightmare.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You glaring at him, cussing him out, being a stubborn hothead... etc. Any one of those will have him sporting a hard-on desperately needing your attention. Also, kissing his neck right where his circuits meet human flesh. That has him begging.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He's done a lot of shit with Val, but some things absolutely cross that line. Piss, Shit, or any other bodily fluid that isn't cum is one of his big ones.

He also has to say no to shower sex, not willingly; he cannot get his head wet without risking a major power blowout.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

With Vox's long tongue, he's good at oral, can reach the deepest places, and uses his claws to keep your hips in place. You wake up covered in bruises from gripping him too tight. He has to pull your legs apart and hold them because you can't close your legs around his TV head. He loves receiving it, too, especially with you under his desk while he watches the cameras around Pride and is hooked up to the wires. If you work well enough, you can cause a city-wide blackout with just your mouth.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on how he's feeling at the moment. He's had too many fast rough, and nonintimate fucks with Val. He appreciates smooth and sensual lovemaking. But also loves spontaneous sex; if you turn him on, he won't care where he'd find a place to fuck you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He *LOVES* quickies. King of quickies, to be honest. Before work fuck, lunch fuck, afternoon fuck, before dinner fuck, after dinner fuck.

Most of the time, you don't know how you walk around the following days like nothing happened. If he did manage to fuck you stupid from a quickie, he would provide aftercare but still would leave to do his work at the end of the day.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

He'll try anything once. If you say you like something, he'll give it a try; he wants to do electrical play and shibari more than anything.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

All day, every day, several times. It's almost like because he's a computer, it's nearly like he has total control of his refractory period and when he cums. He could have you cumming five times before he finishes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has toys, plenty of them. When you live with Valentino, you know for sure every Christmas or birthday, he's getting you sex toys. You and Vox don't think he's capable of getting any of you an actual gift. Although both of you make good use of all of them

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Oh, he likes to tease. Insanely so, but then again, so do you whenever he gives you the chance. When he tops this man will delay your orgasm as much as possible while calling you 'baby girl' and complaining about how you're pathetic and needy for him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man likes to hear himself talk, so of *course* he's loud. Especially when you're sucking him off, lots of curses and mocking laughter as his claws pull and dig into your hair. When he's fucking into you, he growls and grunts saying how tight you are and how you're his perfect fuck toy.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes to film you on his screen and saves it away for later use in a file with your name on it. Val once asked if he could have access to it to sell it because it would make the Vee's an insane amount of money. Vox almost killed him for insinuating that he'd ever expose you like that; you were for his eyes only.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He's long and slender; it glows a soft blue when it's dimly lit. There are thick veins on the underside of the shaft. The color is a deep navy blue, and the tip is light blue.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

As discussed before, he has an incredibly high sex drive. If you don't want it one day, he'll accept it, but he will be whining about it all day. It's like you killed him or broke up with him; that's what withholding sex is like for him. He would never force himself upon you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

First, he gives you aftercare or vice versa, and then he immediately passes out. Even if you get up and shower, he's sprawled out on the bed, snoring away. You always have to maneuver your way back into the bed, moving his sprawled-out limbs. Once you're back in bed, he clings to you like a koala does to a tree branch. Then you're stuck until morning.

#x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader smut #vox x reader smut #vox x y/n #vox x you #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x you #hazbin smut #hazbin hotel smut #fem reader #reader insert smut #reader insert

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deathbxnny · 2 months ago

Note

Oh yeah, raising literal childish soldiers canNOT be good for one's conscious 🥲

But, I'm glad you're eager for more of that succulent emotional hurt, though this one will be... different the previous ones. And without further adieu, let's get into it 😈

So, I've noticed how, in this series, any harm sent mother's way has always been somewhat second-handed, and psychological in nature. Physical arm has always gone to the Children of The House. So, what if for this scenario, "Mother" is the unexpected one coming to harm?

Now, I could definitely write up a scenario of "Mother" getting hurt in some drastic way, and Arle and the House Kids retaliate in grand fashion, but that would be... kinda generic, no? Rather, I'm thinking of a scenario where "Mother" is hurt by the one thing that not even The Knave herself can protect her from.

Herself.

Or more specifically, her own body. Lemme explain.

So, "Mother" is in a position that can be IMMENSELY stressful and emotionally draining, so imagine one day, it's about as normal as life in the Hearth can be, "Mother" is at work, performing or assigning chores, or maybe prepping a meal for the kids, with some their help. When suddenly, she's hit with immense chest pains, as though her rib cage is squeezing around her heart, it becomes hard to breath, hard to focus because of how dizzy she's become. That's right, Mama suffer (or very nearly suffer, that detail is up to you) a literal heart attack, give everyone in the House a good scare, if you would 🤭.

And so, after this incident "Mother" is pretty forced to "take it easy" so that she can recover (which according to some brief searches I've done, can take anywhere from a couple weeks to a few months). And, considering how "Mother" is definitely seems like she'd be something of a workaholic, someone who feels she needs to be present and contributing to be a "worthy" mother, suddenly being forced to take a break from all her usual daily tasks must make for an absolutely miserable experience for her.

So, in the meanwhile, Arle and the kids try to figure out some things to cheer her up and keep her mind occupied while she recovers.

X Anon

Heartfelt devotion. | Arlecchino x Fem!Wife!Reader

(Part one) (Part two) (Part three) (Part four) (Read more parts under Arlecchino's name in my Genshin Masterlist!)

A/N: Hello X Anon! Thank you so much for your request. I really enjoyed writing this. In fact, this turned out to be a bit of a personal piece due to me having had the experience of an immideate family member suffering a heart attack, so I put some of that into this fic, which is why I took a bit of a different approach to your idea. Either way, I hope it's to your liking X Anon!!<33

Content: Heart attacks, comas, angst, hurt/comfort, wife reader, mentions of Curcabena, reader becomes a bit delirious, trauma, sfw

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

The will of the Tsaritsa never rested for anything.

The expectation for everyone to continue until nothing was left of them always weighed on your shoulders, but it did little to ever make itself noticeable in the ranks of the Fatui. Exhaustion? Sickness? Death? None of that was an excuse enough to stop. You were all motivated by the goal ahead, even if uncertainty of what exactly it was often lingered in your mind. It was inspiring to work hard even in the face of pure agony and hell. It's just how things were. That's just how you kept going for so long as an organization.

The Tsaritsa's gentle kindness was ultimately not enough of a reason when the cold, icy snow and wind of your home ripped at your skin hungrily for more of your soul to take.

And you especially, as the wife of a Harbinger and "Mother" of the House of Hearth, felt that deeply.

Day in, day out.

It was all the same in the house of Hearth that forever kept busy no matter the occasion. You were unofficially the head of it all. Your wife often had better things to do as a diplomat and therefore entrusted you with your family from day one. The title and duties of the "Mother" weighed on you painfully, just as expected from you. And whilst you've spent endless years attempting to repair the relationship between that title and the family, you still didn't feel like it was enough. The woman that raised you and the 4th Harbinger haunted you with every step, always looking over your shoulder with that sinister smile of hers. You could feel the scrutiny in her gaze, see the rage in her grin, hear her venomous words in that sweet, gentle voice of hers.

Arlecchino had moved on from her by taking on the title of "Father," but you remained cursed. You remained in the past where you belonged, fixing connections that died for a reason, yet you were stuck with due to your own doing. There were no regrets in your actions initially, but now, after seeing the carnage and death you had caused to your own children by sending them off to the grim reaper yourself, you realise that over time, your mind and body has become worn down dangerously. You were beginning to fall apart, yet tried to keep yourself together just enough to continue every day. Like everyone else here.

It was getting hard to move and sleep lately, however, something that should've unnerved you when it was first starting to become noticeable. But you waved it off like everything else, your mind focused on your daily tasks and responsibilities instead. With your wife abroad back in the motherland for a Harbinger meeting, you were stuck shouldering absolutely everything again, not that you ever protested or cared much. You saw it as a necessity, perhaps even an honor to work at her side and take care of such an important part of the Fatui. If only the glamor and patriotism didn't melt away every time you got a new death report regarding more of your children. Crucabena used to read them as though they were the latest fashion magazine, a content smile on her lips every time. You, on the other hand, shed endless tears, finding no enjoyment in what you've become.

How did she do it? How was she able to be so indifferent and cruel to you all without feeling a thing? What was the secret to absolut absolvation from the guilt and shame? Years later, you still find yourself asking these questions in the shadows of the night, your blurry reflection in the water of the cold bathtub mirroring her image. You wonder if you even were any different than her ultimately. You felt like you did the same things as her, just less cruel, less callous. Was your care and love for the children enough to make a difference?

"Of course not. You and I are one in the same, my dear child." You often hear her voice whisper to you in those painfully sleepless nights, and you wished Peruere was there to keep her quiet again.

Taking a deep breath, you let out a weak hum when you felt someone grab onto your shoulder with a gentle shake. "Mother?" Lyney asked carefully, brows furrowed in worry at your near catatonic state lately. You barely seemed alive at times, your blank stare staring through everyone, some of your tasks even neglected seemingly unbeknownst to you. Your movement was sluggish, slow, and clumsy. Everyone noticed this, and the worry was beginning to seep into all the children belonging to the house. This was nothing like you. And yet, you didn't seem to be aware of it. Or maybe you were ignoring it.

Either way, Lyney had enough of just watching you suffer, his gaze becoming stern when you gave him a tired look. "Have you... slept or eaten properly lately? You look ill." The answer was 'no' to both, of course. You haven't been able to eat much due to the sudden huge workload you were confronted with ever since their Father left for much longer than usual. Sleep was out of the question due to the odd pain and pressure in your chest whenever you laid down. This led to you often sitting in a chair instead in front of the fireplace in hopes of getting some sleep that way... but unfortunately, that didn't work either.

Gently shaking your head, you mustered the strength to give him a shaky smile in hopes of calming him. "I'm alright, dear, don't worry about me. It's just a little stress, nothing more." Ever so perceptive, you sighed when you saw his eyes narrow. He didn't believe you, and you certainly wouldn't believe yourself either. Something was terribly wrong, but you had no time to deal with it. You didn't want Lyney to take on any duties he didn't have to yet, even if he'll most likely be your wife's successor one day. The pressure was too much. You didn't want him to feel the way you did.

Behind him, you saw two agents enter the kitchen through the backdoor. Masks obscured their faces, but the aura they let in was grim and cold. One you were so awfully familiar with, including the documents in their hands. A red envelope peeked out, a silent sign of more carnage and death raised by your own hands. The pressure in your chest suddenly increased once more when the guilt crept back up your body and whispered those evil words of self-doubt into your ears again. "How... How many this time?" You breathed out, a hand pressed to your chest in pain. Lyney grabbed onto your arm in surprise as your body nearly keeled over. Your mind was ringing, and you couldn't even hear the response to your question anymore.

It was all too much. You couldn't take it anymore. In the forefront of your mind, the woman that raised you gave you a "proud" smile, like she always did. It sickened you, for it meant that you've done something that once again proved that your title was cursed.

"Mother!" Lyney yelled out in panic, quick to alert everyone around them to your collapsing form. This has never happened before. The Lady of the House never fell, never faltered. And yet, as you now laid there on the floor, hands pressed against your chest as you heaved painfully, unable to breathe, you realised that everything you've done in your life has led you to this point. This was karma. This was the pain you deserved. Your children's terrified faces faded away and swirled into your mother's dark, sinister gaze. She reached out to you, her gloved hand pressing against your sweating forehead and tearstruck eyes, but you didn't feel any comfort. You felt like another death report, her favorite and one she has been waiting for forever.

If this is how you died, then so be it. One thing about Curcabena was that she'll always find a place for you to sit next to her no matter what. This time, you supposed, it would be in hell for the hurt you've caused.

How fitting.

"... Is she going to ever wake up?" "Not for a while. The doctors said the coma is necessary for her recovery. The reanimation took too long and... it's on her now to awaken." Lynette took a deep breath, her voice coming out in hushed whispers in fear of being overheard by their stressed Father. When Arlecchino came back come after an emergency letter practically crashed into the meeting room through a panicked Fatui agent, she found herself in the middle of a near warzone. You kept the house together at all times. But with you being in a medically induced coma now, everything fell right onto Lyney's shoulders. The one thing you never wanted.

The Knave had yet to say a thing, her lips pressed into a thin line at all times, as she silently moved to reorganize everyone and ease the pressure off of the young man's shoulders. Not even three days of taking on everything, and he was done emotionally and physically. How did his mother do it every day? How was she able to function? How was she able to keep everything in mind, do every task with perfect precision? He had so much to still learn, and that's what your absence proved him so painfully.

But hope still remained. If you woke up soon, then things would get better. Then, no one needed to be so terrified anymore.

Freminet nervously leaned against the doorway to your room, red eyes casted downwards to his shoes in silent shame. Guilt was eating everyone in the house up, their hearts aching with the question, "Could we have done more?". Yet their father wasn't keen on answering anything, her reassurance coming in the form of stern orders and a call for strength from them all.

"I see... in that case, I'll stay and watch over her for the night. You should go rest, Lynette." The young man spoke, watching as his sister exhaled a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. No one was getting any sleep lately, but it's the thought that counted. Passing by him with a short hug they both needed, Freminet watched her disappear into the darkness of the corridor, the moonlight filtering in through the windows leading her way. Stepping into the room with a soft sigh, he closed the door behind him and approached your sleeping form. His father hadn't stepped into this room much due to how busy she was with the chaos that broke out with your absence... but when she was in here, he saw the way she'd just stare at you, the pain in those stern eyes melting the ice and leaving behind a worried, foreign gaze that was rare to see on her.

Pulling a chair to the edge of the bed, he leaned his head against your slowly rising and falling chest, his eyes fluttering close in hopes of catching the tears that threatened to fall again. He wanted you to wake up so badly. It hurt to see you in this broken, weakened state. You were so pale and looked hollow, like all the life had been taken out of you. It was a terrifying sight that he could only barely comprehend. You have never looked like this before. You were always so strong and domineering.

He just couldn't believe it.

Fingers running through his blonde hair calmly is what made him flinch back to reality, his body reeling backward in surprise, yet the hand kept him there firmly. "Calm down, child... don't be afraid. It's just me." It was your voice, yet it sounded raspy and defeated, a slight slur to it from the lack of using it. Freminet froze and stared into the white covers of your bed, his tears dampening the soft fabric. But you didn't seem to notice his plight at first. He wanted to stay still, in case this was a dream. He was afraid that a single sudden move would make you fall back into your coma, the irrational thought plaguing him painfully.

"Mother..." "... Is this... heaven, after all?" You whispered, mind returning to the woman that haunted you. Surely, this must be the bliss before the storm. You imagined that soon flames and the hands of the children you've sent to their death would reach out and drag you down with them. And yet, all you got was the blonde boy pulling himself back again and grabbing onto your hand. "N-No! You're... you're alive." He stuttered out in panic and confusion, wishing someone else would help him, someone else could be here with you and take care of you much better than he could.

But once you processed those words of his, your heart skipped a beat in panic. The emotions finally caught up to you, and the surge of emotions made you attempt to sit up. Letting out a small yelp, Freminet attempted to hold you down and comfort you, knowing how you were about the house and your duties. The doctors had warned about this happening, too. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the sheer strength you demonstrated despite everything that happened. Something which could prove deadly soon, if you didn't relax immideatly.

And as though the heavens had heard his prayers, the door to the room creaked open, and in came his Father, an unreadable expression on her face at the sight of your struggling form. You were alive and somehow filled with energy, which unnerved her a little deep down. This certainly was going against your bedrest orders. "Peruere, I... I'm sorry for disappointing you- I'll get back to my duties as soon as I-" Her hand rose, and your deafening silence came with it. Taking slow steps towards you, her hand came down to rest on top of her trembling son's head. A silent absolvation from his duties for tonight.

"It's okay. You have not disappointed me in the slightest. Now rest." Her voice was stern and cold like it always was, but beneath the icy surface, you could feel the warmth and worry spread through her like a wild fire. She didn't want you to feel this way, and you could tell that the state you were in hurt her deep down. You and your family were her only weaknesses. Wanting to ease her pain, you leaned back into the soft pillows, eyes not daring to look up at her anymore. Why did you feel so ashamed? Perhaps because you should have taken care of yourself better. If you had, then maybe you wouldn't feel like a burden now. As though she was reading your mind, Arlecchino gave her son a curt nod, which he immideatly took as his sign to reluctantly leave.

Silence now overtook you both until she sighed and took a seat in the chair Freminet was in earlier. The moonlight filtering in through the open window illuminated the side of her tense face, her unique eyes near glowing. It was a peaceful moment, despite the pain that now raked through your entire body and especially chest. You closed your eyes weakly in relief when you felt her clawed hand carefully caress your sweat drenched face, your throat feeling so awfully dry as you gulped.

"I... I need to get up... I need to go back to work." "Not for a while." "... For how long then." A week maybe, you hoped. It was more than enough. It was all you allowed yourself, and even that was pushing it. Your restless mind was spinning in circles at all the tasks it still had to complete, and you felt yourself at a loss for words when she shook her head with the faintest frown. She knew you too well. You were an open book she had read many times over and couldn't get enough of. "Six weeks. Perhaps even longer after, depending on your state-..." She stopped herself when she saw your body trembling, and in the dimmest moonlight, she saw tears glinting in your eyes.

"Please don't cry. This is for your own good. I was... afraid when I heard of what happened. In fact, I'm grateful that you are alive, my songbird." Oh, how delicate her words were. Her honesty was forever going to be proof of her undying love for you. The ache is your heart lessened at the gentle warmth that spread through you from her touch, her tone lulling you into the safety you've craved ever since you fluttered your eyes open again. If only the guilt left with it. "What of our children? I must've scared them terribly. Especially my poor Fremi'..." You whispered after a moment of contemplation. Arlecchino watched your sick, tired form with kind eyes that were only reserved for you.

She figured that you'd feel this way. You were always so desperate to prove yourself to absolutely everyone. Whether it was to her, your children, or even the entire organization, you wanted to show everyone that you were better than Crucabena. Yet no matter how many years past, and no matter how much you achieved, you were never able to realise the truth. You had always been better than her from day one. The moment you rebelled and refused to take her side on the day, Arlecchino defeated her was proof of it.

"Do not fret over them. The children are strong. It is you that we need to worry about now. Just take it easy and sleep." Her words were comforting, even if short and to the point. You trusted them with your life. And yet, the feeling of being a burden just creeped up your body until you fell into a restless slumber once more.

The next few weeks were filled with nothing short of attention and borderline spoiling from all children in the house and beyond. Whether young or old, they all took care of you in the same way you cared for them. Something you could only barely handle. You felt like you should be doing that for them only, never the other way around. Yet under your wife's iron gaze, you were left with no choice but to accept your fate and stay put in bed or, on the rare occasion, in the living room near the fireplace. Lyney and his siblings especially took charge of your care, and you couldn't help but feel guilty at what you've put them through. You had attempted to apologize to the young man plenty of times for simply collapsing the way you did in front of him, but he'd always wave you off with a gentle smile. One they all attempted for you to mirror again.

The magician and Lynette would perform small shows just for you, knowing how much you enjoyed their tricks. Freminet, who was practically glued to your side, would read books with you about sea animals, whilst the other children brought you tasty pastries and food. The house was kept spotless by everyone, and you didn't have to lift a singular finger. And your wife was more affectionate with you in her own special way. Gentle kisses and careful, early morning cuddles were the norm, despite her reluctance for physical touch beforehand. You could tell through her actions that the state you were in had hit you deeper than she was most likely aware, and it didn't help the small guilt that was still left in your heart. All she had left from her old life was you. The woman she considered her wife and the mother of the house.

And by the time you've mostly recovered fully, you realised that the past wasn't haunting you anymore. Crucabena's strict hold on you had faded away, even if you knew that she was simply waiting for your arrival in hell one day. But your small revenge would leave her seething, absolutely enraged for years to come first.

In fact, it felt so good to be alive now.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #arlechinno genshin #genshin arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #x reader

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ponderingmoonlight · 10 months ago

Text

Gojo's daughter insisting on him brushing her hair because he's so gentle

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader

Word Count: 840

Synopsis: You are pretty suprised when your daughter insists on your husband brushing her hair depite the fact that this is normally your job. Until you find out why...

Warnings: I just have a soft spot for Gojo okay, I swear I already started writing the promised Geto fic, fluff over fluff over fluff, a little bit of dirty talk hehe

„Come on angel, let’s get you ready for bed.”

There you stand, wearing your most comfy pyjama while leaning against the doorframe looking so delicately that Satoru has to look twice. Are you really his wife, the mother of his precious daughter who supports him like no one else? He has to be the luckiest man walking on earth.

“Are you getting me ready for bed as well?”

That bastard, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Your beloved husband pulls up his blindfold enough for you to see the unpromising dark glimmer in his bright blue orbs, the way he sits on your couch with your daughter lounging against his arm making you feel weak all over again. There aren’t many things in the world that drive you insane like he does.

Well, to be honest, absolutely nothing has the same effect on you as him.

You shake your head. Enough of that. Weren’t you here to get your little daughter into bed?

“Let’s get going”, you ask your daughter again, desperately trying to ignore the way Satoru’s eyes seem to be all over you.

Why can’t he wait until you brushed her hair and get her into bed? All those things might seem innocent to her, but you know all too well what is going on inside his beautiful dirty head.

“No!”

Wait…What? You blink a few times in sheer confusion, even Satoru staring at your daughter in disbelief. Why did that sound so energetic? After all, you just want to brush her hair like you do every evening.

“Why, honey? If we don’t brush it, you will get horrible painful knots tomorrow morning and we both don’t want that.”

She avoids your gaze at any cost and buries herself in Satoru’s black shirt. What’s the matter? It’s not like your husband brushed her hair yesterday as well. She never complained about this process once, even seemed to enjoy it from time to time. What is wrong this evening?

“I want daddy to brush my hair. He’s more gentle”, she finally mutters.

Oh. You stare at her with widen eyes, too stunned to speak for a moment. “More gentle”? Is she really talking about her father? The man who kills curses without even blinking, who will grab your very own hair roughly as soon as she’s sound asleep? You can’t contain your amusement, throwing the brush towards your also bamboozled husband.

“Absolutely no problem, angel. I’ll go and grab you something to drink for tonight, okay? Good luck, loverboy.”

With one last entertained smile at Satoru and your daughter positioning herself between his legs, you make your way to the kitchen. Did you see Satoru doing her hair once? Now that you think of it, you can’t even remember seeing him brush her hair. He’s often still at work when she goes to bed and already gone when she wakes up in the morning which leaves all those things to you. Very much to his disliking as it seemed.

“No, let me do that. I want to brush her hair this evening.”

“You…? Did you ever brush long hair, Satoru?”

“Sure, can’t be that hard-“

“Wait, please don’t use your comb on her hair. You need a brush for that.”

“So…What’s even the difference?”

You can’t help but chuckle to yourself, the look of distress on his gorgeous face when you explained him the difference between a comb and a brush still not leaving your mind. But still…what did your daughter mean when she said he’s gentle? Your eyes peak into the living room where your daughter chuckles with her father. Well, a little glance can’t hurt, right?

“So how was your day, honey?”

“I won a race today!”

“What!? Tell me everything about it!”

Your feet carry you as muted as possible to the wide opened door, feeling like a burglar as you’re on your way to stalk the two of them.

“I was in last place but-“

You can’t listen anymore, eyes fixated on the scene laying itself out in front of you. Your daughter sits between his legs with her head laid back while Satoru strokes her hair so gently and sedately that it looks like a massage. Over and over, he caresses her scalp, strokes it with his fingers, looks at her with so much love in his eyes that you are forced to supress a sniff. Oh, her hair is definitely brushed out already. But still he keeps going, listening to every word she says while leaving a little comment here and there.

“Mommy, are you spying on us?”

Instantly his gleaming eyes dart towards you, amusement filling his expression.

“I’m being gentle, ya see?”

“You definitely are”, you reply entertained while your daughter leaves his lap in order to get into bed with you.

“You’re never that gentle with my hair, though”, you whisper into his ear, grabbing for the brush between his legs.

“Oh, I’m gonna take good care of your hair when your back, babe”, he mumbles against your ear.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz@darkstarlight82 @satoreo @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @okay-it-is-ivy @starlightanyaaa

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velvetures · 6 months ago

Note

Hello loves💕 I still can't get over your writing I'm obsessed!!

I would love to request Roommate König x fem reader. König hears you fucking some guy on the other side of the wall and he can tell you faked it so once the dude is gone he's got you over his shoulder and is walking you to his bedroom to fuck you right. I love the idea of her trying to get him to confess to her and trying anything after months or years of mutual pining, her last resort is to make him jealous.

Overheard

a/n: I'm so sorry for being so slow my love... I always have the worst self-confidence with nsfw reqs. I constantly write them, delete them, and start all over... (this is like... the 8th full-draft retry) So I hope you'll forgive me if this isn't up to standard. Also, I know this trope has been covered by some really talented writers and I hoped to do it justice, and not feel like a carbon copy of something better. (ps. This shit is too long... but I knew if I deleted anything, I'd delete the whole thing over again.)

tw's: 18+ ONLY, nameless hookup, alluded unprotected sex w/side character, unintentional orgasm denial, the reader is mentally not in the best place for sex (disconnected), voyeurism, jealously, fem-oral receiving, fem-fingering receiving, dirty talk, König being a bit of a loser, König omitting his lack of experience, aftercare.

His mom kept saying it was about time to settle down. That the biological clock, normally pushed on women, was ever-present and ticking against his favor. But his sweet, innocent, mother didn’t know the depth of his awkwardness. Not even the slightest idea that her well-mannered boy, turned praise-worthy Colonel was nothing but a bumbling fucking idiot when it came to speaking with women. In the field, sure. He could give orders, discuss tactics, and even bullshit with the best of the best… but if a woman was among those? Oh hell. It was like trying to talk to a brick wall with a randomly developed stuttering issue.

He didn’t understand where it came from either.

It wasn’t like his mother was one of the overbearing types that made dating impossible, and nor did he exactly have the worst time when he was younger with women being interested. It was just… after they showed interest, that became the struggle. Relaxing wasn’t possible. Not when he knew that a woman’s perception of him was far higher than that of any man. Believing that even the smallest of gestures and phrases could earn him an immediate dismissal, and his name or photo being sent in some group-chat to be berated after a first date. He didn’t blame any of the women though… he knew what he looked like. What he sounded like… and God, how miserable his personality was compared to what his career and position would lead others to assume.

A shred of truth could always be found in his mother’s warning though.

He’d gone years without any meaningful relationship where the softer, side of a woman could be found. He found bastardized ways of getting a taste, but he could only allocate so much money a month to porn sites and camgirls without feeling like a total sleaze. The Colonel felt much more confident mapping out a prospective warzone than the contours of a woman’s body, and fuck… it made him more than a little embarrassed to admit. Enough so, that when you mentioned that your rental agreement was coming to an end, and you were trying to find somewhere new to stay, he offered for you to just move in with him.

He owned. Which made the idea of ‘rent’ or you paying it almost unquestionably stupid. It made the deal a little sweeter -in his mind- for you to agree, and then he wouldn’t have to be quite so personally diligent on logging onto online portals to pay utilities. That is, if he could get you to move in. And while in his own mind and body, every synapse screamed that he was being unrealistic, you hadn’t caught on. He’d looked just as stoic and cold as ever when he propositioned that you just start moving over your things into his house. Save money… it’ll be easier for you; He’d said, hard eyes glancing over your face. You thought saying ‘yes’ was anxiety-inducing? König nearly passed out in his office after walking there on numb feet and weak knees.

In the week following, he brought you a small ring of keys, and you started moving your life into his, one cardboard box at a time. And every night after returning from his on-base duties, he would have to physically restrain himself from opening up the taped flaps and getting a peek at the unattended items sitting by the front door. At the time, he thought it was nothing more than unchecked curiosity and instinct to feel-out a new situation. Just simply wanting to learn more about you before you started sleeping over. Merely the soldier in him. But box, by box, that curiosity didn’t dampen down. Even when your items began making their way out of their containers and enmeshing with his around the house.

Tea cups in the kitchen cabinet next to his thicker, coffee mugs. Throw blankets rolled and stacked in the far corning of the couch he rarely sat on. A little rug you’d tossed down in the kitchen in front of the stove with a little floral print that he’d been utterly possessed to not get any stains on while cooking, or by taking off his boots before walking inside. And while never claiming to be a ‘minimalist’ man, he learned right away that his house was nothing short of a hotel when it came to personality.

You’d brought at least five full walls worth of decor. Little trinkets and cute things from all over the world you’d been sneaky enough to stuff into the pockets of your gear. And all of it, had initially been shoved into an empty linen closet he’d been perfect happy with you claiming as your own since it was ‘on your side of the house’. That was, until he found himself noticing that you’d put more than “storage” things away, and had silently refused to put them where they belonged.

On the damn walls.

“I don’t decorate well anyways..” It’d been his excuse… or at least something along those lines. Maybe a little bit more gruff. Guarded. Because even in his own home, he had the tendency of walking around like someone was going to sneak up behind him.

So one week, while he was away, you took the permission and ran with it. Buying the picture hanging kits, and everything else needed to begin covering the Colonel’s walls with your amassed collection of utterly unnecessary, but brain-scratching decorations, art, and collectable junk. Spending a good half hour walking around the halls and rooms with a little smile of accomplishment on your face seeing the colonel’s house feeling more like a home. Totally unaware that he’d been checking the security cameras dotted around, watching you scale a shitty stepladder, climb the kitchen cabinets, and struggle to lift the more heavy items. All the while, growing more and more intrigued with this new arrangement. Debating whether he liked it or not. Rapt attention making the instinctive suggestion that you’d make a good wife far less perverse than he should’ve felt it to be.

Missions took precedence though. And it kept both of you busy more than not. Fully living adjacent instead of in a more dependent role. But there were decidedly small decisions that needed to be made. Like who was in charge of buying groceries, and getting essentials that you both used. König ended up just leaving cash on the counter once a week so you could take care of his end for him. Saving the trouble of a second loaf of bread being bought, or doubling up on paper towels after a miscommunication lead to fifty rolls of the shit needing to be stored somewhere. You did the job more than credibly, and it got you out of the house too.

Which was good, because you rarely left.

Not unlike him, you preferred your time spent in calm situations. Either reading reports, answering emails, and other related tasks before just closing that tab on your laptop and opening up an new one to watch a show or scroll on your phone. You appeared to thrive in his house when you could curl up like some little bird in a nest and just rest. Developing almost permanently sleepy eyes when you came through the door, and a softer tone of voice that took some getting used to. König didn’t exactly understand it. Why your demeanor changed so much within the house, and how it got substantially much more noticeable when your schedules aligned for both of you to be there at the same time.

A solid seven months or more passed before he got his answer. And from your late-night scrolling nonetheless.

Some woman, blabbering on about her husband, and all of the ways that he effected her life once she moved in with him. And, honestly, König wasn’t listening all that much. Having just begun sitting on the other end of the couch with you, since it was where you spent your evenings after dinner. And, it’d become a little bit of a new experience. Just being halfway close to you. Interacting, but not. A safe way to enjoy your presence without any expectations. But that woman on your phone caught his attention when she made the joke about being tired all the time. Tired. Sleepy. All the fucking time. He had to stare down at the TV to keep his head from snapping in your direction.

Apparently it was chemical. Some little thing in the back of a woman’s mind that men didn’t have the complexity to experience the same way. That this woman -and you- were so mentally focused for such a long time, that when the right person was around you, and created a safe space, it acted like a the strongest sleeping pill in existence. Flooding you with dopamine and melatonin to the point that your pretty face got even sweeter with those deep, sleepy looks and constant yawns at all times of the day. Getting a glimpse of you tapping the screen twice, and then tapping at your keyboard to leave a comment only reinforced his inquisitiveness. From the moving boxes, to watching you on cameras while away… and now realizing that you acted so sweet and docile around the house because of him..? He didn’t know how to control himself, and still find a way to keep figuring you out.

Wanting more…

Needing a chance to find out if things could go further than just living in his house.

Dating wasn’t a walk in the park for you either. Call it a hazard of military work. Computers and filing paperwork was more your speed than the guns and blood that König was accustomed to, but it still limited the amount of men who were interested. Especially in the long-term.

It really came down to the uniform and lack of free time that could be allotted to the guys that you did have the fortune to meet. They wanted to take you on dates, and your superiors preferred you stay late to take minutes for a meeting. They always suggested you take a vacation, since it was clear just how tired you were on a daily basis. But vacations were practically a laughable dream you knew wouldn’t come to fruition until you finally were sent the retirement packet everyone in the service dreamed of. But.. on the rare occasion, you did have the energy to entertain a man for a night. Just. One. Night.

Thankfully König was out.

Such good timing considering you’d spent nearly a week, taking your sweet time to wring orgasms out of yourself just for the sheer frustration of getting them, and still not feeling satisfied. Instinctively missing the warmth of skin on skin and the dynamic of having someone else provide and take pleasure from you. Even getting on the app had felt more like a shopping trip than a chance to go on a date. Looking through photos and bios with nothing more on your mind than someone big enough, and pretty enough to make the ordeal worth it. The guy who answered back to your painfully blatant request for a good fuck, didn’t ask any questions either. Just asked politely asked if you wanted to go to him, or vice versa and gave you ample time to get yourself ready before the knock on the front door.

Your mental ruined any chance of having a good time though.

The poor guy sucking at your neck and grunting soft praises was nice… but you couldn’t get into it. Feeling tense. Going through the motions. Foreplay becoming an act of forced moans to reassure the guy genuinely trying to make you feel good, and unable to even make eye contact for a slightly guilty feeling that pervaded your thoughts. Hell, you even refused to have missionary, just to make sure that your facial expressions didn’t have to constantly match the fake whimpers and whines.

John… Joe… Jacob… whatever his name was, he was honestly a sweet guy. Giving your clit attention, no just shoving his cock in you without prep, and actively checking in without making it overbearing. On another day, you’d have really been trying harder to impress him. Give the impression that you were interested in him for more than the sex you couldn’t surrender to. Hope that he liked you enough to stick around. But deep down, you thought better of it. Withholding your feelings to ensure that when he left you alone for the night, that you wouldn’t hate yourself.

König, on the other hand, came home a bit earlier than expected. Walking in the door quietly to expect a silent house, and you sleeping in your bed or on the couch after waiting up for him. Only to be stunned with wet, skin slapping and familiar, pathetic, whimpers getting overrun by deep grunts and low, almost whispered sounds from a man.

God… you were getting fucked.

His whole chest tightened in embarrassment and his face felt hot. You’d never been quite this comfortable… at least to his knowledge. Plenty of nights he had overheard the faint sounds of you getting off alone… soft little moans and gentle hums of a vibrator filtering down the hallway to him. But he’d never heard anything quite that… loud. Even when you fucked yourself on a dildo -he’d always been too curious not to listen intently- the slick sounds of your cunt always made louder noise than your voice. As mortified as he was hearing it… part of him knew something was wrong. Like his whole body was stiff, realizing that you weren’t enjoying it. Faking it… for some unknown reason.

Why couldn’t you say something? Surely you could ask him to… to do something different right? To let you use a toy? Or… or touch your clit? Whatever it took to help you enjoy yourself. But those pinched, almost broken moans starting grating on him within seconds. Stalking towards your bedroom door quietly, and leaning against the wall. Eyes closed and his breath getting heavier with each imagined scene in his head that developed. Picturing him doing all the wrong things… Touching you… tasting you… and living out his own pleasure without the slightest idea that every sound out of your mouth was a fucking lie.

König’s jaw clenched. Resisting a sudden desire to bang on the door or make some other loud noise that would bring this all to an end. Even his fist clenched at his side flinched towards the bedroom door, as if he was insane enough to actually bust in.

What would he even do?

The question rang out a bit too harshly in his mind.

He didn’t have the first idea how to… do better. To make you feel good, or any woman really. Plenty of jealousy rose in his throat at the thought of that bastard fucking you, but he hadn’t even touched a pussy in years. And the last time he did it, he was, pathetically inexperienced. Using his huge fingers to try and prep his partner, but not hitting any of the right spots. Accidentally taking a clinical approach, and it left him feeling like a damn gynecologist instead of a good fuck.

He couldn’t please you, no matter how much he wanted to…

The sobering thought forced him to back away from your bedroom door. But pride alone forced him into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of scotch in his hand. The last -and unavoidable- line of defense before the front door. No doubt in his mind that if nothing else, he’d get a good look at the man you’d brought home for a disappointing night of sex. Wanting to at least humiliate the bastard for a few seconds. Because while he knew himself to not be an acceptable partner, the guy currently riding out his high in your bedroom wasn’t going to know it. And seeing him -in his daily fatigues- and his hood, would give any man a moment of pause.

You felt sticky. Hot. And more than a little achy in all the wrong ways as Jeff… Josh… whoever the fuck he was, removed himself form your bed and began pulling on his jeans. Watching cautiously as he excused himself into your bathroom -sweetly- offering you a wet washcloth and a too-shy smile for a man who’d just come all over your stomach.

You didn’t bother putting on pants to walk him out to the front door. Too disappointed and stuck in your own head to see König standing in the corner of the kitchen. His dark eyes glaring daggers at your… ‘guest’ who was much more observant, and stood stock still. Shirt in his hands, and forced to raise his gaze more than normal to get the best look at the terrifying man looming in the shadows. It took you far longer than it should’ve. To trace Jonah… Josiah’s… gaze, and recognize your roommate. And even longer to remember that you weren’t wearing pants.

“Hey man…”

You had to give what’s-his-name credit for being as casual as he sounded. Because in all honesty, you were just as taken aback. Shuffling to stand behind the guy just enough that your bare pussy and ass weren’t totally out for him to see.

“Evening…” König sounded… bored? Not his normal tone. “Heading out already?” The guy you were using as a shield, just nodded his head. Looking a bit apologetic, but still anxious.

“Yeah, man…” He pulled his head over his shirt, patting his pockets for the jingle of car keys before glancing back at you with an truly apologetic smile, and a clear unpreparedness for the situation. “I… uh…. thanks for… letting me come over…”

You can’t manage more than a nod. No smile, no reassuring touch to him… nothing. Just a silent acknowledgment and the subsequent scamper over to the couch to grab a blanket to cover yourself up.

Shit… König fucking waved bye…

He didn’t expect you to come out. Nor to get his first-ever look at your pussy. And god it’d taken a lot of restraint not to just stare at you and memorize what he could get get a look at. You just looked soft. So fucking small and soft… A slight sheen of sweat on your face and the roots of your hair damp from the erotic affair.

Too bad it was all an act.

“Thanks for letting him come, huh?” He can’t resist… the guy just hadn’t been cautious enough to not fuel the fire of jealously in him.

Seeing you wrap that blanket around you tighter, avoiding all eye contact, and even turning your side to him a bit… it makes him smile under his hood. An amused one. A sickeningly happy sort of feeling rising in his gut where you appear vulnerable under his gaze. You’re already much more expressive just talking to him than you’d sounded with that bastards cock inside you.

“Didn’t think you’d be back for a while…” Your valid excuse falls a bit flat, especially when those dark brown eyes scan your entire body. He lifts his tumbler of scotch under his hood, nodding before taking a long drink. Feeling a secondary burn that soothes the heat building everywhere else in him.

“I can see that…” He chuckles lowly. To him, it sounds unsure… and maybe tinged with anger, jealously. But on your face, he’s clear that you don’t recognize it. Far too embarrassed to see that there’s just as much uncertainty flooding him as well. “Could hear it too…”

He literally sees your shoulders sink. The wave of embarrassment. Part of him loves it. Knowing you’re experiencing some of the same things he is. That you to, know what it’s like to leave a bed feeling like things didn’t go right, and there’s a guilt that hardens like sediment in your gut. Yet the other half, resists pushing harder. Using this same, defensive, and chastising tone. To give you just a bit of respite, because, he’s not really mad… he’s just fuming with jealously.

“If I knew… I wouldn’t have…” You can’t manage much more. Both of you knowing damn well this wouldn’t have happened if you knew what his arrival was going to be. You always kept so good to his schedules… and not just because this was his house. But because you were so genuinely sweet around him.

“Been so loud?” He suggests, downing the last gulp of his scotch and pushing away from the counter. “Speaking of that…” His gaze lingers on your throat… those faked moans echoing in his mind.

“I didn’t know it was common practice for women to walk their fucktoys to the door… especially when he doesn’t make you come.”

If your stomach was twisting before, there wasn’t a doubt now. And god… you couldn’t tell if it was that he was home, or his voice, or just the edged-feeling of your aching pussy; but König was making you squirm. More than he’d ever done before… and you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him plenty of times before when no other fantasy had done the trick.

“I finished.” You defend, tightening the blanket around your waist and tucking your bare feet under the excess material pooling on the floor.

König’s eyes blacken, and he laughs lowly. It’s the closest you’ve seen to his behavior when he’s interrogating someone. His power of knowing all the right answers and just dangling the freedom to lie right in front of your face. Maddening, to say the least. And enough to make your thighs flex together.

“I’d like to believe you…” he begins, making leisurely steps closer. “Yet, I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit hearing you come… and what I just hear… is nothing close to the real thing.”

“It’s different with—when it’s not just me.” You gape at him, trying to find anger at the audacity.

Searching for something other than a feeling of arousal knowing that despite your muffled cries into pillows, he’d still heard you at night. Still listened, and if nothing else, knew what your true pleasure sounded like to call you on bullshit. He shrugs, massive hands resting on his hips. Watching them sway a little as he keeps getting closer. Testing the boundary lines you no doubt had. Pushing and prodding at weak spots, and wondering if he can set foot on the living room rug you stood at the center of.

“Different, huh?” The fake acceptance doesn’t last long. “So if I asked for proof… you’d have it?”

“Proof?” You choke out. “What kind of proof could I even give you?” There are plenty running around in your head, all of them raunchier than the previous. But you’re almost desperate to hear him say it.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got the wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever heard,” He growls softly. “You never finish yourself off without making the slickest goddamn noises. Can hear it from down the hallway like it’s playing off my phone.” He adds, voice getting gritty, eyes lowering towards your hips and back up.

“Show me, that is… if he really did make you come.”

Air in your lungs evaporates. God it’s criminal how fucking lewd anything could sound coming from his mouth. And your dry pussy is pathetically getting wetter by the second. Fluttering muscles twitching with each filthy admission he makes. You’re already resorting to putting pressure against your clit by flexing your legs, trying to deny the feelings. Excusing it all by the still-lingering desire for release and not König. Not moving, and a miserable lack of a response forces him to approach faster. Stepping onto the rug serving as a mental barrier for you.

“Embarrassed?” He asks, head tilting a little and stretching the hood to pull away from his chest a little. Putting a bit more of his chest on display in that tight t-shirt.

You shake your head defiantly.

“Oh? Okay then… you should be able to show me then, right? Pretty girl like you, wanting to get fucked… Should be more than willing to brag that you got satisfied. That he left you satiated…”

Your face burns. Debating how to answer. If it’s even smart to try and test your voice in the first place.

“Nothing to see… got-got cleaned up…” God the miserable truth that your no-name partner’s cum was the only thing needing cleaned off of you hits like a punch to the gut.

A massive hand grabs at the blanket in your grip stops all possibility of lying anymore. A warning. Gentle, for sure and meant to be just a small test of consent. However, you too far into this to not want more. He’s just hitting all the right buttons, whether he means to or not.

“How about I… check for myself?” He asks lowly, free hand -covered in a glove- sliding up under his hood and returning into sight with the achingly sexy sight of a huge, scarred hand. His meaning isn’t lost on you, and it’s almost like your cunt floods in anticipation.

“Slide my hand between your pretty thighs, and see just how good he treated you…” He murmurs, trailing fingers down the two sides of the blanket pulled together. “Let me see if that pussy is fucking drenched like she deserves to be.”

“König.” You warn softly, eyes darting down to his hand and back to his eyes.

Not the slightest bit worried about him touching you. Not at all. But about what would happen after all the tension faded. What would come of your relationship if you fucked… or, just made things complicated in general.And he pauses, looking to you a bit cooler. His breathing still heavy, and laden with emotion.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You’re desperate to think of a way to explain yourself, but the most basic, stupid, comment comes out of your mouth.

“I don’t want this to end badly.”

He straightens just a bit. But his hands don’t move. And while from your perspective, it seems he’s hesitating on whether or not to continue, that’s not what’s got him stuck mere inches away from slipping his fingers between your folds.

He’s worried you know. That you’ve caught on to his inexperience, and are merely defending yourself from a second bad experience in one night. And god it makes this throat burn. Desperate to defend himself and prove that while -yes- he’s more than a little bit lost when it comes to the manual process, he’s still going to be the most teachable fucking man you’ve ever met.

“I’ll listen so well…” He eventually mutters, stepping just a bit closer. Voice lowering and a hint of desperation entering it. “Can—can give you everything you want… Just need to tell me…” he adds, unable to look you in the eyes.

It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear, but it still strokes that burn between your thighs. Especially when his hands grip your hips through the blanket wrapped around you. Groping softly, massaging at the fat over your muscles and feeling hungry just to touch you.

“I… I don’t want things to be awkward afterwards.” You try to reexplain. Hoping the clarification will help him see why you hadn’t already leaned into his commanding touch.

“Awkward,” he repeats, as if it’s a foreign idea. Like it’d never crossed his mind. “Don’t plan on ignoring you anymore… Not—Not after hearing that… and knowing… fuck…”

“He couldn’t have listened… please tell me you tried to tell him what to do… what you wanted,” His rambles get more panicked. Like every thought in his head is equally important and he can’t take the time to pick one and let me even answer. “Should’ve asked what your pussy needed… how to make you feel good… make those pretty sounds..”

You’re half dazed just watching his breathy words fan the material of his hood to react to his boot kicking your feet apart. Wide hand sliding between your thighs and groaning. A deep, guttural sound that reminds of him being winded. And really… he probably should be. Because your inner thighs are dry to the touch. The wetness he’d been creating still not enough to make much fuss over. But he’s not satisfied with that alone. Immediately curling a finger to spread your lips, feeling the thick, slick of new arousal that had been nothing, if not his doing.

“Ohh, you poor baby…” He sighs lowly, head rolling back at the mere sensation of your pussy under his fingertips. Feeling you a bit anxiously, yet getting a buzz in the back of his skull when your hole pulses against his prodding touch. “Left you so fucking hot…”

It’s a fast movement but he’s got you off your feet and dropped down onto the couch in one swift move. Your back arched in the slumped position and the blanket that’d been covering your -pathetic- modesty, fluttered open on both sides of your hips. Leaving your core exposed to his hungry and heavy-lidded eyes. Letting out a little whine of a sound when he slowly drops to a knee; tracing his hands down your inner thighs like he was scared of touching you too harshly.

“König, please…” You gasp out, watching his thumb run over your swollen labias. Pinching your fat lips together softly and inadvertently putting delicious pressure on your swollen clit. He curses under his breath, free hand grabbing your thigh with bruising strength.

“Tell me how to please you,” He commands, eyes flashing dangerously wide in the icy moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “I need to make you come.”

His desperate, and knows you can see it. His whole body shakes seeing your flushed pussy a mere foot away from his face, and nothing but opportunity and his hood preventing him from burying his face in it. Watching as you shyly reach for his wrist, guiding his hand where you want it. Extending his fingers and whimpering when your motion for him to rub small circles over your clit sends those to-intense waves of pleasure through your pussy.

“Like that… just like that…” You’re able to praise with a shaky nod of your head.

Rocking your hips in tandem with his movements and nearly crying out in relief when he diligently keeps the same pressure to you despite your little twitches and grinds. Allowing you the freedom to plant your feet on the edge of the couch and simply feel. König’s lost in it. Lost in the sight of you. Your pretty mouth gaping open and your hips chasing the touch he’s providing. His breath catching when you cry out or give a weak praise for his work. Like you’re enjoyingwhat he’s doing.

But god he’s happy to stay right where you want him, how you want him. Feeling his knee dig into the harsh floorboards, and ignoring it with a refreshed feeling of duty he’d long lost as a soldier. Never had he been given such a pretty fucking prize to work for. Nothing as sweet as seeing your cunt drip from his rough fingers rubbing soft, almost too-soft circles over it. Not even realizing that he’d spent almost fifteen minutes just rubbing your clit lazily when your hand reaches back down. Happy to direct him yet again, especially when he doesn’t even need a verbal direction to do exactly what you want.

“Fingers,” You whisper through panting exhales. “Give me your fingers…”

Your little hand grabs his pointer and middle fingers, spreading your own slick over them like a goddamn professional before guiding him down to your aching hole. Letting go just long enough to feel the thick digits press though that first little ring of tightened muscle. Forcing your eyes open to witness his mostly-hidden expression as he sinks knuckle deep inside of you.

“So fucking pretty,” His head shakes a little, lost in the creamy slick gathering at the base of his fingers as he curls him up towards your pelvis just a little. Subconsciously scared to do the wrong thing, but desperate to keep your cunt flex and mold to his touch. “Tell me, sweetheart… show me what she needs.”

You’re too possessed to chase your high to not listen. Readjusting your bent legs on the couch to gently lift your hips and sink them back down. Slowly getting used to the feeling of his thick fingers, already deeper than your no-name partner. Groaning when they bump into your g-spot just hard enough to make your clit burn. Grinding against his hand and keeping one hand wrapped around his wrist just to try and ground yourself to the present situation. Lost in the rhythm of fucking yourself -quite literally- stupid within mere minutes. Beginning to hear that vulgar, sucking sound of your pussy gripping his fingers and utterly drooling over his palms.

König’s helpless to so more than sing your praise. “That’s a good girl… so good for me. Using me like a fucking toy.”

It’s the best he’s felt in a long time. Watching you take from him. Too absorbed to even think about anything other than yourself. Not in enough control to even worry about the true moans and yelps escaping you. Real pleasure wracking your body and burning every nerve ending.

“More… please more…” You cry softly, hips slowing to a painfully sexy grind as you squeeze the tendons in his wrist with your thumb.

König takes a little more initiative than he’s normally comfortably using, but adds a third finger. Slowly pumping them in and out, little by little, to help you adjust. Watching as your eyebrows pinch together in focus. A low growl rumbles in his chest, his mouth practically watering as your cunt sucks him in.

“Let me taste it, baby…” He huffs, head flinching forwards before backing off, repeating the action a couple more times. “Wanna help… just—just let me taste you…”

You clench around his fingers when he rests his cheek against your inner thigh. Big, wide eyes pleading with you so innocently like he isn’t stretching your hole wider than the biggest of your toys can with nothing but a few fingers. Forcing you to slow the roll of your hips, a shaky hand reaching out to cup his face through the mask. Rubbing a thumb over his hidden cheekbone with a little whimpered hum. Pulling his head closer to you, hissing when the hem of his hood merely grazes your clit.

“How’d you want it?” He asks, head down and pulling his mask up so you’re stuck. Forced to merely feel his mouth so close to you, and not see the shape of his mouth.

“Lick-lick my clit… s-soft…” You whine, eye shutting when the hot fan of his exhale his your fevered skin.

Holding his head steady with one hand, you almost coming up off the couch when his tongue makes one, long, lazy, lap between your folds. Gripping at the material of his hood just tight enough that he ends up ripping the whole thing off. Tossing it to the floor with an aggressive snarl that rumbles against your clit. Sparks of pleasure forcing your thighs apart and jerking your hips back up. Chasing his mouth. The rough texture of his tongue, and the slight graze of his teeth against your slicked folds.

Your orgasm approaches fast from there. Between his fingertips stroking you deep, and the new rhythm of his tongue lapping your slick up to massage your clit, it’s hard to even warn König that he can’t stop for risk of ruining your long-awaited release.

“König… K… oh… fuucckk…”

Your back arches tightly, both hands grabbing harshly at his hair with an unintelligible shout as you come. Jerking wildly and one of your feet losing it’s hold on the edge of the couch. Trying to fight through the shocks of pleasure, and groaning curses with a hoarse throat. Feeling König’s free hand latch onto your thigh to keep you from running away too far from his still-working lips and tongue. Sucking up the wet drips of release trying to drip down his hand.

“Slow, slow down.” You whimper, pushing at his forehead just a little. The pressure too much. The stretch of his fingers still satisfying but overstimulating.

Your so fucking grateful that he doesn’t fight you on it, or force you to try for another. And maybe it’s just the mere sight of you. abdominal muscles twitching, forcing your upper body to do baby-curls with each flex of your pulsing cunt. Toes curled and an all-over buzzing sensation making it hard to even make sense of where your limbs are in relation to the rest of your body, much less König or the couch your hardly laying on.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His softened voice almost gives you emotional whiplash, especially when he bends over you forehead resting against yours softly.

Gently removing his fingers with murmured apologies when your little winces mar your pretty features. Both hands sliding up your sides to help lift you back onto the couch, moving to sit himself next to you just long enough to reposition your body on his lap. Pulling that blanket back over your bottom half and maneuvering your cold, tingling feet between his thighs like he can tell they’re freezing. He presses soft kisses all over your forehead and nose. Rocking you softly and squeezing at the muscles in the back of your neck reassuringly.

“You needed that… needed to feel good…” he murmurs almost lovingly.

You nod dumbly, laying your head against his shoulder. Letting out soft nearly unconscious whimpers and a soft repetition of his name in cum-drunk appreciation.

“Told you I could listen… could be good for you,” He adds, almost like he’s reassuring himself of the idea. “Wanted to be better than him. Needed to prove it.”

He holds up your weighty head, stabilizing it with care and a sickeningly sweet look of devotion in his eyes.

“You’re never going to fake it again, sweetheart.”

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