#but I can’t seem to get rid of it either
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ᝰ.ᐟ SERENITY | 015
FANDOM: TWTPTFLOB
WARNINGS: Eyes, blood, implied murder
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Reader tweaks out this chaoter ngl
◄ PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ►
You and Roxana walk side by side, your steps light on the cold marble floors of the Agriche estate. The conversation between you is relaxed, almost mundane in comparison to the constant tension that lingers between you two. It’s rare to find a moment of peace here, so you try to enjoy it while it lasts.
You and Roxana walk side by side, your steps light on the cold marble floors of the Agriche estate. The dim candlelight casts elongated shadows along the hallway, making the atmosphere feel heavier than it already is. The scent of blood and roses lingers faintly in the air, an all-too-familiar reminder of where you are. Despite that, the conversation between you and Roxana is surprisingly light.
“Did you hear?” Roxana muses, her voice smooth and composed. “Apparently during his mission, Dion actually let someone live. Shocking, isn’t it?”
You huff a quiet laugh. “Are you sure he didn’t just change his mind at the last second? Maybe he got bored.”
She tilts her head slightly, considering. “Perhaps. Either way, it’s rare for him to show restraint.”
“Wait, how do you even know that?”
“The guards and servants like to gossip. Apparently one of the guards who accompanied Dion came back to Agriche on father’s orders and told others,”
You shake your head. “This family is full of surprises,” you say dryly.
Roxana hums in agreement, but before she can reply, you suddenly collide into someone.
The impact is sudden, but not enough to send you stumbling. Still, the sharpness of the moment takes you by surprise. You take a step back, glancing at the person you bumped into. The first thing you see is a head of fiery red hair.
Charlotte Agriche.
Your stomach sinks. Even before she opens her mouth, you brace yourself for the inevitable. “Watch where you’re going, idiot!” she shrieks, her young face twisted into a scowl. Her small hands curl into fists at her sides, but her presence is anything but weak.
You straighten yourself, sighing. “Sorry, Charlotte. I wasn’t looking.”
Your apology is immediate, not because you particularly care about her feelings, but because it’s easier to de-escalate things before they spiral. Unfortunately, Charlotte doesn’t seem to accept it.
“Hah?! Do you think that’s enough?” she huffs, voice rising. “You should be more careful! Or do you just not care about getting in my way?” you hold back a groan, forcing yourself to stay calm. Roxana, on the other hand, steps forward.
“Charlotte, be quiet,” she says smoothly, her golden eyes watching her younger sister with a warning glint.
But Charlotte is undeterred. “Shut up! You two are both useless! I hope Father gets rid of you both!”
That makes you stiffen. You had expected insults, but there’s something unsettling about hearing a child wish for your death so casually. It doesn’t help that you remember exactly how this girl turns out in the manhwa - her entitlement, her fury when Cassis was taken from her. Roxana had only managed to shut her up then by using her illusion butterflies to terrify her.
But right now, you and Roxana have nothing to hold over Charlotte. No leverage. No power. She’s just a twelve-year-old girl screaming her frustrations, and all you can do is take it.
You turn to leave, deciding that engaging with her is pointless. But before you can take a step, a sharp tug halts you. Charlotte has grabbed your wrist.
It’s almost laughable how common this is - people grabbing you by the wrist as if they own you. As if they could just yank you back into place whenever they please. Maybe, you think bitterly, you should just chop your own hand off and hand it to them so they don’t have to keep reaching for it.
Your patience shatters.
“Shut up!” you snap, your voice cutting through the air like a whip. Charlotte freezes, wide-eyed. The girl immediately lets go of your wrist. “You can’t keep acting like a spoiled brat just because you’re born privileged!” you continue, words tumbling out faster than you can think to stop them. “I don’t care what you’ve been through - everyone here has suffered in one way or another. You’re not special! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut and stop acting like the world owes you something!”
The silence that follows is deafening. Charlotte stares at you, stunned into speechlessness for the first time since you met her. There’s a lot of words I want to yell out that won’t end well for me. Stupid girl.
You don’t wait for her to recover. Turning on your heel, you walk away, your steps quick and unyielding. Roxana matches your pace, her own expression unreadable. Behind you, a faint, choked whimper reaches your ears.
Guilt pricks at you, but you shove it aside. She deserved it. She had it coming. Right? “I didn’t think you had it in you,” Roxana finally says, her tone almost amused.
You let out a breath, still reeling from your own outburst. “I didn’t think so either.”
The truth is, you’ve never yelled like that before. Not at anyone, let alone a child. But Charlotte had gotten under your skin in a way that no one else had. You wonder if you’ll regret it later, but for now, all you can feel is the dull thrum of lingering anger and something dangerously close to satisfaction.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆
Later in the day, you find yourself walking along the corridor, heading to Griselda’s room. The lessons on mannerisms are long over, but you aren’t seeking her for etiquette. You simply wish to be in her presence, to absorb the rare calmness she exudes in this twisted household. Unlike the rest of the Agriche family, Griselda doesn’t smother you with cruelty. Being around her is like standing in a quiet oasis amidst a burning wasteland. With Roxana, I constantly have to be aware of what I say and how I say it. It’s exhausting. But with Griselda, I can say what I want however I want.
As you approach her door, a sharp voice calls out to you.
“You!”
You turn and see Charlotte again. Her face is twisted in an expression you can’t quite read - anger, defiance, something else lurking beneath. She marches toward you, shoving a small box into your hands.
“What’s this?” you ask cautiously.
“Just take it!” she snaps, eyes gleaming with something almost manic.
You frown but accept the box. Something about this feels wrong, but a small, absurd part of you wonders if this is a gift. An attempt at reconciliation? That thought vanishes as soon as you lift the lid.
Your breath catches in your throat. Inside the box lie a pair of eyeballs, torn and mangled, surrounded by strips of skin still attached to the optic nerves. The flesh is fresh, raw, as if the person it belonged to had only recently lost them.
A shudder runs through you, nausea clawing at your stomach. You snap your gaze back to Charlotte, but she’s already turned away, her small form retreating down the corridor before you can utter a word.
You stand frozen, staring down at the grotesque gift in your hands, your mind racing.
What the hell is she trying to say?
#twtptflob#dion agriche#jeremy agriche#roxana agriche#the way to protect the female lead's older brother#the way to protect the female lead’s older brother#charlotte agriche#x female reader#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere#female x reader#female reader#dion agriche x reader
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~ ~ ~
#I thought I was fine but apparently I’m still struggling with this anger#and it’s not so bad at the moment but it’s there and I’m kind of hurt and I don’t know what to do#I poured my heart to you and you just said you didn’t know what to say#and then we moved past it like it never happened and I feel like I was barely acknowledged at all#I made myself more palatable for you once again because I didn’t know what else to do#so I just get to sit in this and suffer I suppose#because truly what else am I supposed to do? I can’t bring it up to you again because that might start another fight#I have to act like everything is ok because I don’t want to cause problems for you#and I don’t want things to be strained between us#but I’m pretty strained inside myself just trying to keep myself together and be ok and a good friend to you#what am I supposed to do when you’re all I think about? when reading old conversations hurts?#what do I do when I feel like this friendship is hopeless and will end up hurting both of us no matter what I do?#what do I do when I just want you to talk to me about this shit and like actually talk about them so I can see them through?#what do I do when these things just get blown off again and again?#it just feels like this is going to keep affecting me and our friendship and I don’t want that#but I can’t seem to get rid of it either#personal
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sonic and snufkin actually kind of feel like very similar characters to me. holding hands over “my personal sense of freedom and dedication to making decisions based on what I think is right is what matters most, and if you’ve built some idealized version of me in your head then that’s none of my business and it’s not my responsibility if the reality of who i am lets you down in some way”. also the deep connection to nature and all.
#N posts stuff#this is also a little why i am extremely picky about fanfic for these two#bc fic where like. snufkin finally settles down in the valley or lets moonin come along on his winter journey or whatever#they grate because it feels like you’re getting rid of a core of snufkin’s character for convenience.#‘he would not fucking do that’ style. i don’t like it.#like you do you it’s not a big deal it’s just personal opinion#the same for sonic. for him it’s less about being tied down in a literal sense and more to do with. conceptually#like sonic is a character very Unavailable emotionally and i dont think that’s something about himself he’s willing to change#i think that sonic is a very Internal person and his personal sense of freedom is such that like#he doesn’t Care what other people think about him. in sa2 he doesn’t seem to care that he’s been mistakenly labeled a villain bc that’s#none of his business. and in tbk he’s blunt about how he’ll happily become the ‘villain’ in other people’s eyes if he’s making the choice He#thinks is right. i don’t think his aversion to emotional sincerity or openness comes from some Hero Persona#i think he just doesn’t ever want to be put in a position where he has to navigate his friends emotions about his emotions#meaning like. being open about your problems opens you up to people who think they know better than you and want to force you to listen#to them ‘for your own good’ which i think sonic would resent on a lot of levels. so he’s unwilling to make himself vulnerable to that#but also even if someone isn’t Forcing you to listen you can still hurt people by ��refusing’ to take care of yourself the way They think#is best. so their emotions become a coercive force intentionally or otherwise which sonic would also resent#and sonic doesn’t want to resent his friends. so he’s like ‘okay i just won’t put us in that position then’#i also think he doesn’t feel a need to Justify himself to anyone. so explaining his emotions or the Whys of who he is#feels like an attempt at justification that sonic would dislike and avoid on Principle even if he’s the only one seeing it that way#anyway ‘he would not fucking say that’ but it’s sonic having a genuine moment of emotional honesty#i do think that snufkin is more. Open to his own emotions though. and the expression of them#Comet ‘weeping over the sea’ moment my beloved. sonic Wouldn’t do that i think#i do think he closes himself off to his own emotions he doesn’t want to be tied down by Those either#which is why i also think that sonic as a character is informed by repressed/dissociative amnesia#like i Am projecting a little but i also think it makes sense for him. ‘who i used to be is none of my business i only care about#who i am Right Now’ which is another reason why he doesn’t like talking about his honest emotions#bc if he talks about them then He can’t forget them properly bc that moment is now in someone else’s head for them to remember and remind#him of. and he doesn’t want to do that so it’s for the best if he never admits to anything so he’s free to ignore and forget what he wants#In My Opinion. these tags got long i wonder if tumblr is going to delete a bunch lol
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OBSESSED. ☆ SYLUS QIN.
📰 extra, extra! why is your bodyguard so obsessed with you? girl, you wanna know...
warnings. fem! reader, popstar! reader, bodyguard! sylus, established romantic history ( very brief ), pet names, semi-public, fingering, oral ( fem. receiving ), cowgirl, unprotected p in v. wc. 4.6k.
an. reused the header and a bit of the plot from an aaron hotchner fanfic i wrote on wattpad in like… 2021??? tweaked most of the details obvs but ig i was born as a bodyguard au lover
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request
Your bodyguard was such a buzzkill.
Dragging you out of every party you make an appearance at, replacing your shots with water once he believes you’ve had one too many, watching you like a hawk no matter where you are or who you’re with...
You despise those who have an inability to have fun, so as far as you’re concerned, Sylus is the devil reincarnated. You aren’t exactly shy about your opinion of him either, and perhaps in hindsight, that is exactly why he was currently pacing through the party you’re in attendance of to try and ruin your night yet again.
(Ruin your night or… do his job? Hell if you care about the logistics of it all. Two sides of the same coin, you think.)
His protective instinct only grew more intense ever since the two of you shared a kiss before a concert of yours that left your lipstick smeared over your face like there was no tomorrow…
And what did that asshole do? Nothing. It was in his nature to make your life miserable after all. Sylus let you walk out in front of your thousands of fans, makeup messy and appearance disheveled all from his mouth on yours alone.
And boy, did the tabloids have a time with that one… Who was the culprit? A new fling of yours? Fiancé? Possible baby daddy? Each and every news outlet had some uniquely wrong to say. Can’t a girl have a makeout session with her bodyguard in peace?
Unfortunately for you, the paparazzi have been hounding you ever since that day, itching to get the 4-1-1 on your love life.
And ever since, you haven’t given many people the time of day—including Sylus. Tonight, you’ve managed to stay two steps ahead of your dear bodyguard and evade eventual capture for just a bit longer. You’re currently surrounded by a few of your friends, socialites and actors alike.
Your lips seem to flap freely when you have a few drinks in you, but tonight, you’re sober but even more talkative than ever. Your chosen topic of conversation? Your overbearing and stupidly handsome bodyguard, of course.
Too lost in your story, waving your arms around to your theatrical pleasure, you hardly noticed the way your friends’ faces paled to a ghostly shade of white, their eyes nearly bulging out of their heads and their lips parted as if they had something to say but… couldn’t.
All the while, you were too busy blowing off the steam that you’d acquired from your last encounter with the forsaken bodyguard. “…And I was like, why are you so obsessed with me?”
As fate would have it, you hear a throat clear behind you followed by an annoyed sigh that you’ve grown to know like the back of your hand. You spin around, already wearing a scowl.
“Obsessed with you, hm?” Sylus says, his voice low and seemingly dangerous, though your utter distaste for the man rids him of his intimidation. “You’re quite self important. I could never live in a world where I’d fall at the feet of an egotistical popstar.”
You roll your eyes at that. Who does he think he is? Everyone loves you—all except for the disgustingly handsome man standing in front of you.
“Mm… well, you can always die an untimely death and never have to work for me again,” you reply, giving him the most passive aggressive smile known to man. “Hopefully that gives you an ounce of hope.”
“It does,” he replies, returning the same expression that you gave him.
It’s borderline infuriating how undisturbed Sylus was. No, it is infuriating. No matter how many insults you chucked his way, he never cracked. (And the one time he did, it led to the two of you playing tonsil tennis in your dressing room...)
You shake your head, huffing in utter annoyance. You then hold your wrists up for display, cocking your head to the side as you give him a mock puppy dog expression. “Sooo… are you here to take me away, Officer Buzzkill?”
Sylus merely blinks in response to your taunting, taking a firm grasp on one of your wrists before he tugs you through the sea of partygoers. He laces your fingers together, squeezing tight as to not lose hold of you.
“Must you always make things so difficult?” he asks, keeping his eyes ahead.
You shrug your shoulders. “More or less.”
“More or less?” he echoes, glancing over his shoulder to properly look at you. “I suggest you try a different style of communication, sweetness. Your clipped attitude will get you nowhere.”
“Oh? But it’s gotten me so far already…” you trail off, glancing at his lips for a few agonizingly long seconds before a smirk tugs on the corner of your mouth. “In fact, I think it can get me even further.”
Sylus’s jaw tenses, his eyes slipping shut as he tears his gaze away from you. He can’t handle the way you’re looking at him—so unbelievably beautiful with those siren eyes of yours, the mere sight of you already stirring something unwanted within him.
He turns around to continue leading you through the crowd without a reply. You begin to glance around yourself, attempting to plot your brilliant escape.
“Don’t,” he flatly states, his iron grip tightening on your hand.
“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a strong tone of defiance.
Sylus gives your hand one solid tug before you’re standing in front of him, his free hand pressing onto the small of your back as he keeps you pressed to his chest. “If you haven’t noticed, you brat, I will always chase you. I’ll find you just the same.”
You almost deflate under his intense gaze, his deep red eyes piercing through your own. It wasn’t often that Sylus manhandled you, but when he did, it made you feel… different. Intrigued, maybe.
“How touching,” you deadpan, “but you still get on my nerves.”
Sylus clicks his tongue. “Tch. Oh, I’m sorry… when have I ever cared about what you think?”
“Never,” you say with a dramatic sigh. “You know… if you hate me so much, you should just quit on me.”
Sylus rolls his eyes, his red irises drawing you in like no other. “I don’t… hate you. You should be rather thankful that I don’t, because I’m doubtful that anyone else would want this job of mine—you’re quite the handful.”
“Mm, I’m only saying,” you murmur with a shrug, giving his hand a harsh squeeze as if the roughness of your grasp would make him let go, but he, of course, does not. “You don’t need this job, and yet, here you are.”
He raises a brow. “What do you mean by that?”
You smile, the same shit-eating grin that he has grown to be all too familiar with. “Give me your wallet.”
Sylus huffs, his broad shoulders deflating as he fishes his black leather wallet from his back pocket and hands it over to you. You take it with ease, taking your hand from his as you crack it open.
You slip his Black Card from the sleeve, proving that he truly didn’t need the job for any monetary gain. And then, a triumphant smile graces your lips as you pull out none other than a Polaroid photo taken of you—backstage at your concert just before the kiss you two shared.
“Ooh… what’s this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.
Sylus reaches forward to try and snatch the tiny photo from you, but you are far too quick. “What are you revealing exactly? That you were secretly snooping in my wallet prior to now?”
“Yes,” you admit without hesitation, “and that you’re secretly rich and in love with me. Does that make us even?”
His jaw sets, his piercing gaze set on yours. He works to snatch the photo from you, tucking his belongings back into his wallet before he slips it into his pocket. “No. Maybe if you were less of a pain, we could be even.”
You wiggle your eyebrows in suggestion. “You’re not denying being in love with me, dear bodyguard of mine.”
Sylus gives you a deadpan expression. “Must you always be so self righteous? God forbid I am proud of you and your success.”
The genuine nature of his words set you back a step, your brows knitting together and your lips parting. If Sylus noticed the shift of your expression, he didn’t mention it. Thankfully. His cold fingers lace with yours once more, continuing the stride towards the exit of the party.
“Rather than putting on this show of yours, you truly should be thanking me for saving your reputation,” he quietly adds, his hand now curled around your waist as you approach the exit. “There is a swarm of paparazzi outside who are desperate to get their grimy hands on a picture of their beloved popstar doing something remotely scandalous.”
(And if Sylus knows anything about you, it’s that you love scandals. According to you, they ‘make life worth living’. Tch. Diva.)
You chuckle. “Aww, you care!”
“Do I care, or is it my job to look after you?” he asks, plucking his sunglasses from his pocket to place them on your face, shielding your eyes from the rapid camera flashes of the paparazzi. “Public intoxication numerous times a week is not a very good look for you, sweetie. Incredibly frowned upon.”
Your jaw sets as you listen to his words. While they are undeniably true, you don’t have any plans for admitting that—not now or in the near future.
“Making out with my bodyguard is frowned upon as well, but you didn’t seem to be complaining about that bit,” you say under your breath.
Your voice was low enough that your weighted words were almost drowned out by the booming music of the party and by the chatter of the photographers you’re about to be engulfed in. Almost.
Sylus flashes you a glare. “You shouldn’t mumble. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
“You heard me,” you state.
He did hear you, that was exactly the problem. It was no coincidence that the two of you haven’t spoken much since your very intense lip lock. You’ve been avoiding each other, evading the invisible string that connects the two of you like both an electric current and a noose.
The tension between the two of you was tangible, palpable even—you could practically taste it just as well as you could still taste his lips on your own. It was intoxicating, imprinting, searing.
It managed to distract you from the flashing lights of the cameramen who were swarming you, capturing flick after flick of you being led through the crowd.
You chew on the inside of your cheek. “You know, you can help me out with all of this,” you murmur, gesturing towards the paparazzi. “My publicist came up with an idea that will get them off my back for a while. Give them the answers they need and… whatnot.”
“Is that right?” he asks, glancing your way. “Do tell.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, tuning out all of the chattering paparazzi who are currently surrounding you. “Be my impromptu mystery man for the cameras. I’ll give you anything you want in return, I swear it.”
Sylus hums, the sound omitting a deep rumble into the air. “Anything I want? My, my, sweets, you’ve made me an offer I cannot refuse.”
You huff, grasping onto the collar of his jacket as you pull him into you. “Just go with it.”
“Just go with wh— mmph!” Sylus’s words were muffled by your lips slotting against his in a searing kiss, his hands instinctively finding their home on the curve of your hips.
The kiss was… tame. It was supposed to be, after all. It was merely for the cameras, a way for you to put an answer to the questions that have been flooding your inbox and left your name circulating in the news for days on end.
But when Sylus’s tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you slightly pull away, muttering a faint, “Sylus, what’re you…” before he pulls you right back in, his large hand now resting on your cheek.
“If you’re going to use me like a whore at your disposal, I’d suggest you let me enjoy myself and taste you properly,” he sporadically says into your mouth, his hand shifting to tangle in your hair as he tilts you to his liking, your tongues meeting in with gentle swipes. “See? I knew you could do better than that.”
True to his suggestion, you kissed him like there was no tomorrow, your hands fisting his shirt in your palms as your lips moved in tandem with his. Lipstick and paparazzi long forgotten, you find yourself getting lost in the moment, a soft whimper leaving your mouth as his hands give your hips a firm squeeze.
The moment he hears that sweet, impossibly faint sound of your pleasure, he knows that he’s in for it now. That’ll do it for him.
He abruptly pulls away, clasping his hand onto yours as he continues pulling you through the now stunned crowd of paparazzi. Sporting an erection and your lipstick smeared on his lips makes no difference to Sylus—if anything, he enjoys the world knowing that he has the hots for the woman who he has sworn to protect.
Sylus helps you into the passenger seat of your black SUV, closing the door behind you before making his way to the driver’s seat. He peels off, driving with intention through the streets of the city.
It was now evident to you that he was driving the SUV in pursuit of his favorite lookout spot, one that overlooks the bustling city from a distance. Sylus had taken you there once before as per your request to ‘stay out a bit later’. Nothing happened then, but you have an inclination that your luck has changed.
“I know what I want from you,” he states, placing a hand on your thigh.
How did he already manage to figure out what he wants in return for helping you? A raise? A car? The blood of his enemies? You’re intrigued, raising a brow. “You do?”
“I do,” he confirms without missing a beat. “Get into the backseat.”
A gasp leaves your kiss swollen lips as you mull over the utter implications of his words. It didn’t take a genius to understand them, but you were… surprised to say the least. “I think you’re overstepping your boundaries, Mr. Qin.”
In a literal sense, sure he was. But if the two of you were going to judge based on what you two want, he absolutely wasn’t—you both knew that.
He chuckles, the sound low yet infuriatingly sexy. His hand slips beneath your skirt, his middle finger brushing along the damp spot of your panties. “Your body seems to disagree with you, ma’am.”
And if you weren’t already wet before, hearing him call you ma’am was more than enough to do it for you. “Shut up,” you grumble.
“You can make me,” he suggests, setting the vehicle into park before giving your thigh a few pats. He nods his head towards the backseat. “Go on.”
Without hesitation, you kick your heels off and crawl into the back of the vehicle, thumping down on the seat with a sharp sigh. Sylus follows you within the blink of an eye, his knees settling on the spacious floor of the car.
“What’re you…” you ask, though your eyebrows raise as the pieces of the puzzle click together in your mind. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” he repeats, his warm hands rubbing your knees as he spreads your legs apart, his lips finding the tender skin of your inner thigh. “You know… you truly should be resting for your show tomorrow evening.”
“Should I?” You bite on your bottom lip as he leans forward, nosing at your clothed pussy with a muffled moan of his own. He inhales deeply, the scent of your arousal driving him to the brink of insanity.
“You should,” he answers, pressing an open mouthed kiss on your cunt through the fabric of your panties. “You should stop talking too. You need to rest your voice just as much.”
You swallow hard, whimpering ever so softly as his fingers hook beneath the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs to give himself access to your glistening core.
His eyes are set on your heat, his cool hands hiking your thighs over his shoulders. He rests his cheek on the warmth of your inner thigh, glancing up at you. “Because believe me, sweetie, the things that I want to do to you will not be in favor of that beautiful voice of yours.”
“Oh?” you ask, titling your head. “What will they be in favor of?”
He grins, wicked and devilishly handsome. “I’m glad you asked, because there’s someone else I’ve been wanting to hear from.”
Before you have the chance to reply, he’s already got his face delving deep between your legs, the filthy sounds of squelches and slurping filling the otherwise silent car.
“Oh, I— mmh, you didn’t answer my… my question,” you stammer out between breathy moans, your head tilting back on the headrest as your eyes flutter shut.
Sylus smiles into your pussy, pointing his tongue to accentuate the squelching noises that your heat was making, entirely wet and dripping for him.
“Can you not hear her?”
Never in your life did you think that having a man on his knees talking to your cunt would be this arousing, but… you’re fucking soaked.
“I-I can,” you gasp, cracking your eyes open to look down at him. “Fuck, you can talk to her in fifty languages for all I care, holy shit.”
He quietly chuckles, the sound sending a spark of vibrations onto your already sensitive clit. Your thighs tense, aching to close on him, but he keeps them spread with his strong hands on your thighs.
Your lips part as a string of breathy sounds leave you, beautiful moans and needy whimpers alike—all of which play as music to Sylus’s ears. It was nice to know that your mouth was good for more than just singing and bickering at him…
Teeth nibbling into your bottom lip, you glance down at him, only to be met with the most crazed eyes known to mankind. So disheveled, your slick leaking down his chin while his tongue delves into your heat like a man starved. He looks like he’s in his own pussy drunk heaven.
When you feel his pointed tongue begin to curve and lick in ways it hadn’t before, you do your best to follow his movements.
S-Y-L-U-S he spells on your puffy cunt with his writing tool of choice—none other than his stupidly talented tongue.
“You’re so—”
“Shh,” he cuts you off, his voice more like a husky whisper now. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, sucking on your clit before releasing it with a harsh pop.
Filthy sounds fill the air, your own breathy moans spilling from your swollen lips in tandem with the messy sucks of Sylus’s lips on your cunt. Not to mention, your girl truly was loud.
“Singing so beautifully for me,” he rasps, his eyes flitting up to watch your blissful expression. Lidded eyes, parted lips, flushed skin—an absolute wet dream of his come to life.
You bite your lip, hardly focused on the words coming out of his mouth. “Mmh, what…?”
“Quiet, sweets,” he repeats, hooking his hands even tighter around your thighs as he gives your heat a few more harsh licks. “I told you I was talking to her, didn’t I?”
It doesn’t take much longer for your legs to begin to tremble, your body writhing in his grasp as he sets you any way but loose. Your hips buck up, your core grinding against his wet muscle as you chase your release.
Sylus was more than eager to give it to you, redoubling his efforts while locking his hands over your legs to keep you steady enough for him to pleasure you effectively. The warmth pooling in your belly was far too much, far more intense than anything you had ever experienced before.
“Mmh, I… I’m coming,” you warn through an airy whine.
And when you do, Sylus swoops in even more greedily than before, his flat tongue lapping at your honeyed release. There was no way he would ever be able to go without tasting you like this now that he has. Fuck, he’s such a goner.
As you come down from your high, you grin with a few pants. “Look at you, falling at the feet of your ‘egotistical popstar’—mmph!”
Sylus plunges two fingers into your mouth to shut you up, rising to plant himself onto the seat beside you. “That’s hardly an insult to me anymore, my dear. I know what I am.”
He pulls his spit slick fingers from your mouth, bringing them to your pussy as he gently circles your sensitive clit. His free hand guides you through the motion of straddling his lap. With a simple nod of his head, he gestures for you to lift your shirt up, and you do.
“And what’s that?” you ask, watching as he leans forward to mouth at your breasts through the fabric of your bra.
“I’ve already told you,” he murmurs, bringing his free hand to his belt to free his cock from the confines of his pants. “A whore at your disposal.”
“I knew it,” you chuckle, though the sweet sound is interrupted by a breathy moan that he coaxes out of you once he slides his fat cockhead along your folds.
He clicks his tongue, tilting his head to the side. “Are you not going to reciprocate my affection?” he teases, grasping tightly onto your hips. “Or do I have to work a bit harder for it, ma’am?”
Your knees would have certainly buckled if they weren’t firmly planted on the leather seats of the SUV. Who would have thought that you had a thing for white-haired bodyguards who call you ‘ma’am’?
Sylus raises a brow, a cocky smirk tugging on his lips. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”
You feel your face heating up more and more the longer you look him in the eyes, shifting your hips so that the tip of his cock finally meets your entrance. “Just… shut up and put it in.”
“How demanding,” he hums, smirking ever so slightly as he uses his grasp on you to make one sharp snap of his hips, burying balls deep inside of your heat. “But as you wish, pretty.”
You cry out immediately, the burn of the stretch fading into unfolding pleasure. Eyes locked on each other’s, breaths mingling with ease, skin slicked with sweat, it was…
“Perfect,” he whispers, smoothing his hands along your hips before one reaches up to cup your cheek. He pulls you into a deep, searing kiss. “So, so perfect.”
Your movements are timid at first, you were merely testing the waters that had yet to be explored. His cock stuffed you full, his tip kissing your deepest points with ease, earning a muffled whimper from your mouth that his lips swallowed up eagerly.
Sylus begins to help you move a bit quicker, rocking your hips forward in smooth rolls, earning moans from the both of you that seemed to come straight from your guts.
“Give it to me how you like it, baby,” he encourages, both of his hands planting firmly on your waist. “Use my cock however you need it, sweets, it’s yours.”
His words have your clit pulsating around his thick shaft, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you begin to work up a pace of your own that has your heart beating wildly.
“I always… fuck—I always knew you were obsessed with me,” you jest, your grin stretching wide.
Sylus hums, the sound low and deep, his iron grip on your hips helping you maintain the intensity of your movements whenever your muscles beg for a break. “Yeah? Needed me to be buried inside of you to have that bit of confirmation?”
You nod with a smile, hands wrapping around his neck as you plant your forehead against his. He smiles too, a breathy moan leaving his mouth as you circle your hips in a way that has him seeing stars.
“Fuck yeah, I’m obsessed with you,” he admits without a semblance of shame, tilting his head back on the headrest.
Already feeling your second orgasm approaching, you bury your face in his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat that made a musk that was so beautifully Sylus. His hands smooth over your backside, giving your ass a squeeze.
“Tch, let me see that pretty face,” he demands, nudging you with his shoulder so that you were sitting up once more. “You look so beautiful like this.”
You struggle to form a sentence, bouncing unabashedly on his cock, skin slapping together in an erratic pattern that spurred you even further. A string of whimpers and whines leave your puffy lips. Though your reply lacked words, it perfectly communicated what you wanted to say.
“Oh, I know it, baby,” he rasps, tilting his head back again as his eyes slip shut. “Pussy’s addictive—shit, I’m obsessed with her too.”
You begin to lose yourself all together, reduced to nothing more than a blissed out woman riding her bodyguard’s cock. “Sylus, I… mmh, I’m gonna cum.”
He nods in understanding, smoothing his hand through your hair as he brings you in for another kiss. It’s all teeth and tongue, messy and drooling in the most beautiful way possible.
“Gonna come inside you if you keep riding me like this, baby,” he warns, pulling back to look you in the eyes.
You feel his cock twitch inside of you, as if it were confirming his words. You don’t do this often, contrary to popular belief, but you are on the pill. Luckily. “Please do.”
Sylus pants through a smile, licking his lips as he guides you through a few more fleshed out grinds on his lap. “Huh… you really are something special.”
A deep groan leaves his mouth as he dips his head, grip tightening on your waist as you ride him through your shared orgasm. You aren’t sure where yours ended and his began, or if you had gotten the order wrong entirely. All you know is that in that moment, the two of you became one.
Panting, your hand plants on the fogged up window of the vehicle, leaving your handprint in its wake. Sylus lets out a breathy chuckle, raising his own shaking hand to the window.
You watch through lidded eyes as he draws a tiny heart, writing his and your first initials inside of it with a little + in the middle. How cute.
Sylus then turns to face you again, bringing his hand to your cheek. You nuzzle into his palm, placing a kiss on his skin. “I have something to admit.”
He nods his head a single time, beckoning you to continue. “What is it?”
You give him a wry smile. “My publicist never gave me the idea for that publicity stunt.”
“…I figured that much, sweetie.”
note. bodyguard! sylus, my glorious king… ok i lowkey hate this but it holds no purpose saving up space in my drafts so :D pls interact if you enjoyed, rbs are greatly appreciated <3 thank you for readingggg !!!
new note: a part 2 of this fic is in the works! if you want to be tagged, comment or send me an ask ♥︎
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request
#♥︎ tojicide#sylus x y/n#sylus x you#sylus qin#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#sylus smut#sylus x reader#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#sylus#love and deepspace#love & deepsace x reader#love & deepspace#lnds smut#lnds#lnds x reader#au
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Lose My Breath
Pairing: han jisung x reader x lee know
Word count: 5,5k
Summary: for their youtube series where they look for new hobbies, Jisung and Minho come to your studio for a lesson in pole dancing. neither of them expected to find more than a new hobby..
Tags: youtubers!minsung, pole dancer!reader, established minsung, fluff, smut, nsfw, 18+, fingering, oral (f), a bit of m/m kissing, threesome, nipple play, vaginal sex, mirror sex, creampie, pet names -sorry if i forgot anything!-
a/n: happy birthday to the lovely @staylovesmiley this one is for you! <3
‘Good morning lovely people,’ Jisung grins into the vlogging camera he’s holding. ‘Today Minho and I are going to try out a new activity in our quest to find a new hobby.’
You watch in silence as the gorgeous man who walked into your studio about fifteen minutes ago, explains to their audience what they’re about to do. He’s dressed in some loose grey sweatpants and a black tank top that shows off his broad shoulders. His black hair is tousled and he’s wearing black eyeliner that’s making his eyes pop.
‘He’s a stunning little creature, isn’t he?’ a voice whispers next to you and you jump in surprise, bringing up your hand to cover your chest where your heart is beating so fast you can feel it thump against your palm.
‘You scared me,’ you laugh softly, not wanting to interrupt Jisung who’s still babbling to the camera and showing everyone the room.
‘Sorry,’ Minho grins, bumping his shoulder against yours. ‘I have very quiet feet and you were pretty distracted by my man doing what he loves.’
You feel your cheeks heat at being caught staring at someone else’s boyfriend. Jisung and Minho are a very popular Youtube couple and you’ve been following them for years, silently crushing on both men as they made their way through life with their own camera’s following their every move.
‘Oh, look who finally decided to join us!’ Jisung says then, turning the camera to you and Minho. ‘Say hi, baby.’
‘Hi,’ Minho says, waving a peace sign next to his face as his lips turn up in a small smile.
‘And this is y/n, she will be teaching us today,’ Jisung introduces you and you too wave at the camera.
Jisung turns the camera to himself again. ‘Wish us luck,’ he grins and then he lowers his arm and shuts off the camera. ‘Okay I’m all ready now.’
‘Did you bring any shorts like I requested in the email?’ you ask them, eyeing the sweats they’re both wearing. They may look ridiculously good in them, but wearing pants like that did not go well together with pole dancing.
‘Oh yes, we’re wearing some underneath,’ Minho says and then he promptly pushes down his sweatpants, revealing black athletic shorts.
You blink and Jisung giggles.
‘Min, baby, you can’t just start undressing in front of y/n,’ Jisung says, reaching over to help his boyfriend pull his pants over his shoes.
‘I’m wearing shorts? It’s not like I’m naked,’ Minho mumbles, but his ears turn red.
‘It’s fine,’ you smile at them. ‘I’ve seen it all after six years of dancing and teaching.’
Jisung makes a face as he too gets rid of his sweatpants, leaning heavily on Minho as he pushes them off his feet. ‘I can’t even imagine how some people probably show up to pole dance.’
‘Yeah, you don’t want to know,’ you laugh, not missing the curious glint in either of their eyes.
You put on some soft music and start warming up, instructing the man what movements are best to prep their muscles and they easily fall into your warm up routine.
‘Very good,’ you praise them when you’re done. ‘Do you want me to show you the whole routine I’ll be teaching you first or would you rather I’ll take you through it step by step?’
‘Routine,’ Minho says at the same time as Jisung goes; ‘Step by step.’
They look at each other and for a moment they seem to have a whole conversation with just their eyes until Minho raises his eyebrows and licks his lips, causing Jisung to let out a little whine, sagging his shoulders as his cheeks turn red.
‘Routine first,’ Jisung agrees and you let your eyes wander between the two of them.
Sexual tension seemed to roll off of them and you’re pretty sure that if both you and the camera weren’t here, Minho would have had Jisung pressed up against one of the mirrors in a heartbeat.
‘What just happened there,’ you ask with a chuckle as you try to ignore what their interaction just did to you. It shouldn’t have been hot, but it was.
‘Nothing,’ Minho smiles. ‘Please show us the routine.’
Pushing away your feelings, you nod and get in position, winking at Jisung who’s still blushing. You start with the pole in front of you and grab onto the cold metal with one hand, easily maneuvering your body around it until your back is against the pole. You move your hips in a sensual way and reach up with your arms before arching your back as you move to lower your body and spread your legs. It’s a pretty sexy, but easy routine and you let your muscles move on auto pilot.
When you end with your back against the pole again, only slightly out of breath, you can’t help but notice how both men have moved closer. Jisung his mouth is open in a little ‘o’ while Minho has his hands in his pockets, watching you with his head cocked as if he’s trying to figure out how you just did that.
‘You want us to do that?’ Jisung asks. ‘That was–’ he clears his throat. ‘Very sexy.’
‘Agreed,’ Minho nods.
‘Thank you,’ you smile. ‘And yes I will teach you how to do this.’
Jisung frowns, but when Minho pats his butt, he slowly walks towards one of the poles and stands before it like you had.
‘Put all your fingers together, like this,’ you show them your hand. ‘And place it at forehead level on the pole. ‘Then you go ahead and sink under your arms,’ you instruct, moving your body to get in front of the pole with a sexy sway in your hips.
When you look back at Jisung and Minho, they are nodding to themselves and get in position, placing their fingers against the metal. Both men follow your instructions and move smoothly to the front of the pole, just like you showed them.
‘Very good!’ you grin at them, clapping your hands.
You show them the next move and once again they execute it perfectly.
Jisung beams at you with sparkling eyes and you can’t help but compliment them again. ‘You have great form! I told you, you could do it!’
Jisung giggles and moves on the ball of his feet in excitement. ‘Show us the next move!’
You go through the next few moves with them, correcting their postures here and there, but overall they take to the routine like a duck to water.
‘There you go, very nice!’ you compliment the both of them with a little cheer when they finish going through the entire routine for the first time.
You give them a few more pointers and at Jisung’s request you join them for the entire routine one more time before he goes to the camera’s to shut them off.
‘That was way more fun than I thought it would be, easier as well,’ Minho admits, sitting down next to you on the floor as you start your cool down stretches.
‘I haven’t heard someone say it was easier than expected in a long time,’ you chuckle, leaning forward to touch your toes.
‘Oh,’ Minho frowns. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you.’
You sit up and shake your head with a smile. ‘You didn’t, don’t worry. It’s also been a while since I’ve seen someone take to it so easily, but I guess it makes sense with your dance background.’
‘Did I just hear you say we’re naturals?’ Jisung pipes up, letting his body fall to the floor on Minho’s other side, his head resting on his boyfriend's thigh.
‘Yes,’ you laugh. ‘You have lots to learn, but if you commit to it, I am very sure you’ll be upside down in that pole and spinning around in no time.’
‘I’d rather focus on the fact that you know I have dance experience. You watch our videos?’ Minho asks, watching you carefully.
‘I do,’ you nod, your cheeks heating up until you’re sure you’re as red as a beet. ‘I’ve been following you guys pretty much since the beginning.’
'Awww, really?' Jisung coos, sitting up again to also start stretching. ‘That’s so sweet.’
‘Why didn’t you say so sooner?’ Minho asks.
You shrug and lift your arms above your head to stretch your back and shoulders. ‘You didn’t ask and I was being professional I guess.’
They both smile at you and the three of you chat about their channel for a while as you lead them through a cool down.
‘Do you have any more lessons after this?’ Jisung asks when the three of you get up again and you offer them a bottle of water from your mini fridge.
You look at your watch. ‘I do, but not for a few hours.’
Jisung shares a look with Minho. ‘Would you want to join us for lunch?’
‘Oh, uhm sure,’ you nod. ‘Why not!’
*******
In the next few weeks Minho and Jisung come back about twice a week for more lessons from you. Sometimes they film, sometimes they don’t and you love watching them grow each week, picking up on the movements quicker than any of your other students. They often bring you coffee or homemade treats that Minho made and you can comfortably say that the three of you have developed a bit of a friendship.
There’s lingering touches sometimes and heated gazes when they watch you do your thing on the pole, but not once have they been inappropriate. They make you feel seen, sexy and safe.
‘I have a question,’ Jisung says on a Thursday evening when you’ve just finished your lesson.
‘Mhm,’ you hum, moving into your stretch.
‘What do you think about us? I mean, how do you feel about us?’
‘What do you mean?’ you ask, sitting up so you can look at him. ‘Are you asking if I like you? Because of course I do. I’m very happy the two of you came into my life and I’d like to think we’re friends.’
‘Friends,’ Jisung mumbles and his brows furrow. ‘Right.’
You tilt your head in question. ‘Was that not what you wanted to hear? You don’t think we’re friends?’
Jisung’s eyes widen and he crawls closer to you, already having finished his stretches. ‘No, no I didn’t mean it like that! I love that you consider us friends, I just..’ he bites his lip nervously and glances at his boyfriend.
Minho chuckles from your other side. ‘What he was meant to ask was, are you attracted to us?’
You nearly choke on your own spit at the unexpected question and you start coughing violently. Minho gently pats your back and Jisung hands you a bottle of water, his cheeks are red, but his eyes are hopeful.
‘Sorry,’ you mumble when you finally feel like you can breathe again. ‘Did you just ask me if I think you’re hot?’
Minho lets out a laugh and Jisung giggles.
‘Basically,’ Minho nods.
‘Wow, okay,’ you mumble, taking another sip of water. ‘I mean, how can I not? Have you seen yourselves?’
The two of them share another look and Jisung scoots even closer to you until his knee touches your thigh.
‘So you are attracted to us?’ Jisung repeats Minho’s question.
Nervous butterflies swirl in your stomach and you suddenly feel hot all over by the way they both stare at you with the same heated gaze you’ve seen before.
‘I- yes,’ you admit, licking your lips. ‘I am.’
Jisung smiles and beams at Minho, causing the older to chuckle at his boyfriend and lean closer to you to reach out and pinch Jisung his chin. ‘Patience, baby.’
‘I’m not patient and you know it,’ Jisung pouts and both Minho and you laugh at his sad face.
Minho lets go of Jisung and places his hand on your thigh. His touch immediately heats up your entire leg and when you look down to see his long fingers against your bare leg, you nearly groan out loud.
‘We have a question for you, pretty,’ Minho says, his voice sounds lower than usual and it makes you shiver. ‘And I need you to answer honestly, can you do that?’
You nod and look up at him, meeting his eyes. ‘I can.’
‘Good,’ he smiles. ‘If you say no, I promise there will be no hard feelings between us and we can still be friends.’
Your mouth suddenly feels dry and you wish you were still holding onto that bottle of water, but you nod again anyway.
‘You see,’ Jisung starts, placing his hand on your other thigh. ‘We’ve had this fantasy for a while now, but never found the right person.’
‘But now we did,’ Minho continues. ‘You fit with us perfectly and we both like you very much.’
Jisung nods enthusiastically, his fingers tightening on your thigh a bit. ‘We’re kind of hoping that you feel the same way about us.’
You blink at them, your head moving left to right to look at them both. ‘I’m flattered, but I’m not sure what you’re asking of me? Is it sex? A one night stand? A relationship?’
‘For now it’s sex,’ Minho grins. ‘But we’re open to more if it leads to that.’
‘Alright,’ you say, nodding slowly, your thoughts racing about as loud as your heartbeat. ‘And you want it now?’
Jisung lets out a little whine and leans in to press a sweet kiss to your shoulder. ‘We wanted it yesterday, last week, hell the day we met actually, but now works.’
You laugh at his ridiculous babbling and place your hand on top of his own. ‘Now works for me as well, but one of you will have to get up to lock the door.’
You’ve barely finished the sentence when Jisung jumps up and jogs towards the little hallway where the entrance for your studio is. You giggle at his eagerness before turning towards Minho who’s already looking at you.
‘You’re sure?’ he asks.
You nod and feeling bold, you move and crawl into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. ‘Oh, I’m sure.’
Minho’s hands immediately clasp your hips to pull you even closer, pressing your clothed chores against each other. You bite your lip when you feel how hard he is already and without a second thought you crash your mouth against his. He responds right away, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you in place against his body while the other moves so he can grab onto the back of your neck.
‘Hey, you started without me,’ you hear Jisung’s voice say faintly behind you before you feel a strong warmth pressing against your back.
A hand moves your hair to the side, freeing your neck and a heartbeat later lips are pressed against your skin. Minho slips his tongue inside your mouth when you gasp and a moan escapes your throat as he tangles it with yours while Jisung leaves open mouthed kisses on your neck.
‘Hmm if I'd known you wanted this, I would have asked earlier,’ Jisung says against your skin while gliding his hands from your sides to your bare thighs and then back upward towards your breasts.
You can only moan again in response, too busy kissing Minho, which he is obviously very good at. It’s messy, wet and hot and you love every second of it.
‘Hmm you make such pretty noises,’ Jisung whispers against your neck, his fingers slipping underneath the sports bra you’re wearing. ‘I can’t wait to make you scream when I eat you out.’
You arch your back for as far as you’re able to and a violent shiver goes through your body when Jisung teases your nipples, twirling his fingers around the sensitive buds. Minho breaks the kiss and leans back a little so he can look down at where Jisung’s hands disappear underneath your sports bra.
‘Take it off,’ he says to his boyfriend.
Jisung does as he says and frees your breasts in one quick motion, slipping the top over your head and throwing it behind him on the floor.
‘Hmm beautiful,’ Minho mutters, moving his hands to caress your stomach and up towards the underside of your breasts before cupping them. ‘So perfect.’
You claw at Minho’s shirt, trying to take it off and make it even. He chuckles at your efforts and leans in to capture your lips again, successfully distracting you from your task. Behind you, you hear the rustling of clothes and when Minho lets go of your lips again, he turns you around and basically drops you in Jisungs lap.
‘Hello baby,’ Jisung grins, eying your naked breasts that heave with every pant that leaves your mouth.
He has taken off everything but his boxers and you take a moment to appreciate his lean form, smooth skin and the tattoos that cover his chest. He’s absolutely mouthwatering.
‘Hi yourself,’ you purr, reaching out to trace the large tattoo on his side. ‘I like your tattoos.’
Jisung preens under the compliment and pulls you closer. ‘How much?’
Giggling you lean forward to press your lips against the black compass on the left side of his chest. Your tongue sneaks out to trail a wet line all over the ink and Jisung lets out a surprised grunt at the feeling. He grabs onto your neck and pulls you up to kiss you.
His lips are even softer than Minho’s and you melt into him, moving your hands to his strong shoulders and then to his hair to tangle your fingers in the soft black strands.
It should surprise you how fast you adapted to this situation with the two men you only met a few weeks ago, but seeing as you’ve been crushing on them for years, it probably wasn’t that hard for your brain to accept.
A naked chest presses against your back then and hands move from your hips to the front of your black yoga shorts, cupping your clothed pussy. Liquid heat spreads through your entire body and you let out an embarrassing whine against Jisung’s lips when Minho pulls his hand away again to tug at the waistband.
‘Can I take it off?’ he asks, pressing a small kiss on your shoulder.
You pull back from Jisung’s mouth and giggle when he pouts at you. His lips are swollen and red and his pupils are elated, he looks even prettier than usual like this.
‘Stand up, baby,’ Minho says and you’re not sure if it's to you or Jisung, but the both of you get up with his help. ‘Good, now take it off.’
Minho smirks as once again, both you and Jisung follow his demand. Jisung pulls off his boxers, his dick springing free against his toned stomach, a drop of pre cum already drips down his length and your mouth waters at the sight. You quickly follow his lead and take off your shorts, shedding your underwear as well.
‘Look at that, I’ve got two lovely stunning creatures now,’ Minho hums, licking his lips as his eyes devour every inch of naked skin in front of him. ‘Ji, baby, why don’t you get on your knees for y/n.’
Jisung drops to his knees right away, his hot breath tickling against your pelvis bone as he scoots closer to you. The sight of his mouth only inches away from your pussy makes your legs feel weak and you look at Minho with pleading eyes, hoping he’ll understand you’ll need his support if his boyfriend is going to make a meal out of you.
Minho grins, drops his own boxers to the floor and strides over to you with three big steps. He pulls you against his chest, his arm hooking around your waist underneath your breast to hold you steady.
‘Feast away, baby,’ he tells Jisung.
One of your legs is placed over Jisung’s shoulder and then he licks a fat stripe between your already slick lips, all the way from your hole to your clit. If it wasn't for Minho’s hold on you, you would have collapsed.
‘Fuccckk,’ you moan, your head falling back against Minho’s shoulder.
Jisung hums and dives in again, this time putting even more pressure with his tongue. Your hips buck on their own accord and Jisung reaches up to hold you in place against Minho.
‘Hmm you taste delicious, baby,’ he murmurs against your folds, nipping at them with his teeth.
‘Unnghh,’ is all you are able to let out, your brain feeling hazy with lust and pleasure.
Minho starts placing wet open mouthed kisses against your neck as his free hand plays with your nipple, while Jisung keeps lapping at your clit with his skillful tongue. Heat curls in your stomach and when he adds a finger and curls it just right, you cry out so loud that it startles you a bit. You’ve never been this loud before. The thought immediately leaves your brain when another finger is added to your heat and your legs are starting to shake.
‘Please, Sungie,’ you moan, trying to buck your hips again.
Jisung picks up the pace, moving his tongue and his finger in tandem.
‘That’s it, kitten, let go for us,’ Minho whispers in your ear as his fingers twist and pull your already sensitive nipple.
‘So close,’ you whine, the coil in your belly getting tighter and tighter.
When it snaps your eyes roll back and you moan Jisung’s name. Your legs give out, but Minho’s hold keeps you up as Jisungs keeps moving his fingers until he’s sure you’ve ridden out your orgasm.
‘Hmm so sexy,’ he says against the inside of your thigh, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your skin there.
Your legs shake and Minho gently lowers himself and therefore you to the floor. He sits you down in his lap and moves your limbs around like you're a doll.
‘Look at that,’ he hums, leaning his chin on your shoulder.
‘Hmm?’ you hum, still a bit hazy from your release.
‘Look in the mirror,’ Jisung says, moving to sit behind Minho.
You do as he says and gasp at the sight that greets you. You barely recognize yourself, naked, flushed skin, big eyes and wild hair. Your feet are on either side of Minho’s thighs, causing your legs to stay open and displaying your glistering pussy for all of you to see in the mirror.
Minho moves his hands from your breasts towards your core and when his finger gently dips into your soaking folds, you shiver.
‘Mhhgh, sensitive,’ you mutter, but you don’t slap his hand away.
‘You can take it,’ Minho whispers, biting the skin between your shoulder and neck.
Jisung moves to your side and lays down onto his stomach, his chin resting on your thigh as he stares at your pussy with big hungry eyes like he hadn’t just eaten you out already. His tongue is peeking out of his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was drunk or at least a little tipsy.
‘Can I go again?’ he asks, looking up at Minho.
‘No,’ Minho growls. ‘It’s my turn to play.’
Jisung huffs, but stays where he is, pressing a soft kiss on your thigh. You reach out to pat his hair and he smiles up at you.
‘You ready, kitten?’ Minho asks, his free hand coming up to circle your throat lightly. ‘I want you to keep looking in the mirror the entire time, okay?’
All you can do is nod, your gaze connecting with his through the mirror.
‘Good girl, now watch how easily you’ll take my finger.’
Minho slips his finger inside and your mouth falls open at the sensation. It’s only one finger, but it still feels so unbelievably good. Your head falls back against Minho’s shoulder, but you make sure to keep your eyes on the mirror, watching as he starts pumping his finger in and out of you. Wet slopping sounds fill the studio and soon your moans echo off the walls as well.
‘More, Minho, please,’ you beg, the sensitivity from before completely gone.
Minho’s fingers leave your throat to play with one of your nipples again, pinching the bud between his thumb and forefinger. Jisung sits up beside you and takes the other nipple in his mouth, sucking and twirling his tongue around it until you’re a shivering mess. A second finger is added to your core and your eyes fall close as the pleasure nearly overwhelms you.
‘Eyes open,’ Minho growls in your ear, pinching your nipple so hard a yelp leaves your mouth.
It’s a good type of pain and when your eyes lock with Minho’s once more and his thumb brushes over your swollen clit, you fall over the edge for the second time. Your legs are shaking violently and it takes everything in you to keep your eyes from rolling back inside your head.
‘Such a good girl,’ Minho murmurs, kissing your neck as he fingers you through your orgasm. ‘So tight and responsive.’
‘She’s perfect,’ Jisung says, his mouth still attached to your breast.
‘God,’ you groan, coming down from your high. ‘You guys are.. fuck.’
Jisung laughs and pulls back to look at you, his hand coming up to push a sweaty piece of hair behind your ear. ‘We’re just Minsung, baby.’
You smile at hearing their nickname and reach out to touch his chest. ‘That’s enough for me.’
‘Good, because we’re not done with you yet,’ Jisung smirks. ‘How’d you feel about riding my di–’
You don’t let him finish and push yourself up against Minho’s thighs to basically launch yourself against him. Your legs still feel like jelly, but Minho’s hands on your hips help you straddle Jisung who laughs in pleasant surprise at your attack.
‘I guess that’s one way to answer,’ he grins. ‘You’re that desperate for me, huh?’
‘Oh shut up,’ you laugh, lining yourself up with Minho’s help.
‘You can just say you want to be fu–’ Jisung’s mouth falls open when you sink down, your walls clenching around him. ‘Fuck, fuck fuck,’ he groans, throwing his head back and exposing his long neck.
You waste no time to lick a fat stripe from his collarbone all the way to just behind his ear and he shivers beneath you. Minho moves to sit beside you and grabs onto the back of Jisung’s neck, pulling his head back up.
‘How does she feel, Jagi?’ he asks Jisung when you roll your hips forward before bouncing up and down.
‘So good,’ Jisung whines. ‘So tight and warm.’
Minho groans and leans forward to catch Jisungs lips with his own, kissing him feverishly. The sight of their tongues tangling is breathtaking and you can’t help but slow your movements to enjoy the view.
Jisung moans and grabs onto your hips, his tongue still battling Minho’s, but the instruction is clear and you slowly increase your speed again before leaning in to press open mouthed kisses against Jisung’s neck.
When Minho pulls back and Jisung whines at the loss, you tilt your head up and press your lips against his instead. The kiss is messy and wet and your rhythm fails again as you’re too focused on both the kiss and the noises Jisung makes.
‘Such pretty noises, right?’ Minho murmurs, burying his face into your neck and biting down on your skin again.
You hum against Jisung’s lips and arch your back when Minho’s fingers twirl around your hard and abused nipples. They're so sensitive that it sends a shock through your body and you moan into Jisungs mouth, your hips faltering. Both their hands find their way to your hips and help you move.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room and the feeling of being sandwiched between two hot bodies makes the coil in your stomach tighten once more, heat spreading through your veins as your third orgasm approaches.
Jisung comes first, his hips rutting up with little shocks as he moans into your mouth. Minho quickly moves his hand down to your folds to circle and pinch your clit. You’re a withering mess in seconds and when he bites down on your shoulder you actually come with a scream this time.
Your body sags against Jisung and for a moment the three of you just sit there, hugging each other and catching your breath.
‘Do you think you’d have one more in you?’ Minho asks when the sweat on your skin is starting to cool down enough for you to shiver in their arms.
Never in your life have you come more than three times in a row, but the thought of saying no doesn’t even cross your mind, especially when you feel his cock twitch against your ass.
‘Only if you take me against the mirror,’ you tease, looking over your shoulder to wink at him.
You’re only partly joking, but Minho just grins at you and stands up. He gently pulls you off of Jisung, chuckling softly when the both of you shiver when his softening cock slides out of you, before he easily hauls you up in his arms and wraps your legs around his waist.
‘I’ve had a dream about this,’ Minho mumbles as he approaches the mirrored wall and presses your naked back against the cold glass.
‘I’ve thought about this too,’ you admit, blushing. ‘But it was actually you fucking Jisung against the mirror.’
‘I want that!’ Jisung squeals behind you.
Minho laughs and repositions you in his arms so his cock is teasing your soaking entrance. ‘I’m sure we can make that fantasy come through as well.’
Your eyes widen and that’s when he sinks home, pushing all the way into you with one smooth movement.
‘Oh, fuck,’ you moan, his cock stretching you deliciously.
‘How are you still so tight,’ Minho pants, his hands squeezing your ass. ‘Fuck.’ A droplet of sweat drips down from his hairline to his chin and you follow it with hazy eyes before focussing on his lips where his teeth are biting into his bottom lip.
‘She feels amazing, doesn’t she?’ Jisung has gotten up from the floor and is now pressed up against Minho’s back, his chin leaning on his shoulder.
‘So good,’ Minho agrees, squeezing his eyes shut as he ruts his hip upwards.
‘Mhmh,’ you moan, pleasure is already building in your belly again and your eyes flutter shut as your head falls back against the mirror.
This time Minho doesn’t scold you to keep your eyes open, he just buries his face in your neck and attacks your skin with his tongue and teeth. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about him today, it’s that he likes to bite and leave marks.
The sensation of his cock pounding into you, the cold mirror at your back and the warmth of his tongue against your neck is almost too much. Your muscles tremble and when Jisung reaches around Minho to let his hands travel all over your body, you start to feel dizzy.
‘Please,’ you murmur, clenching your walls around Minho. ‘Please, Minho.’
You’re not sure if you’re begging for him to come or to go faster, you just know that it’s all getting too much. Tears start to leak from your eyes as your body doesn’t know what to do with the overload of sensations.
‘I’m close, Jagi,’ Minho murmurs against your neck, nipping at your collarbone. ‘Let go for me, yeah?’
You sob and dig your fingers into his shoulders as the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had takes over your body. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, your limbs are spasming and your vision turns black for a second or two.
A grunt leaves Minho’s throat as he comes inside you, his hands holding you close as he presses soft kisses all over your shoulders, neck and face while Jisung runs his fingers through your hair and whispers sweet praises in your ear.
When your body goes lax in Minho’s arms he sinks to the floor and cuddles you close. Jisung curls his body around your back and once more the three of you just sit there and cuddle into each other's warmth for a while.
‘Next time we’re doing this, we need to pick a more comfortable place than the floor of your studio or against the mirror,’ Jisung says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. ‘As hot as it is.’
‘But the mirrors,’ Minho pouts.
You and Jisung both giggle and you reach out to tap his bottom lip with your finger. ‘So you want to do this again?’ you ask, smiling up at him.
Minho raises his eyebrows at you and tightens his arms around your waist. ‘Don’t you?’
Oh fuck yes.
a/n: i'm still pretty new to writing smut so uhm I hope that was good lmao. (it was a lot of fun to write hehe) If you enjoyed reading, please consider leaving a comment and/or reblog <3
shoutout to @staybabblingbaby for helping me brainstorm, u rock <3
general taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @girl-in-love-with-kpop @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @corgilover20 @littlelostdemonofthelight @stephanieeeyang @zulie-and-cats @chanshugsaretherapy @pizzalove5000 @dazzlingjade @milie-com @thequibbie @channiesrightasscheek @strawbrriz @delulustardust
#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#minsung x reader#jisung x reader#lee know x reader#skz smut#skz fluff#stray kids smut#minsung smut#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#skz x y/n#skz x you#lee know smut#han jisung smut#chancloud8 writes
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THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE TO THE BOOTHILL COMMUNITY I'm eating very well this week salute for your contribution 🫡🫡🫡 I also like the idea of sappy boothill he's the type to say "my girlfriend hates me I hope I die" and the Jessica and Roger rabbit dynamic is so!!!
he’s your ride or die. it’s most definitely a case of somebody asking “what do you see in him?” to which you reply “he makes me laugh.”
he’s so whipped to the point he’ll be in a serious debacle with somebody, guns drawn, throwing threats, but as soon as he hears the custom ringtone he’s set up that indicates that it’s you calling, he holds up a finger to his opponent and answers the call.
example: “oh, keep talking.” his gun is aimed directly in the centre of his opponent’s forehead. “one more word and i’ll blow a nice hole through yo–”
his pocket vibrates and chimes a ridiculous tune.
gun disappears back in its holster, the red targets in his irides fade and he turns his body away to answer the phone. “hey sweetie!”
his opponent is stunned. “wh–”
boothill holds up a finger. “of course i can buy dinner on the way home! what do you want to eat?” his opponent just barely hears a voice speaking on the other side of the phone. “mhm… i can get that… no problem… hey, you’re not working on friday, right? i’ll take ya out for dinner. there’s a nice little restaurant on the xianzhou luofu i think you’d like… sound good? i’ll see you tonight… love ya lots.”
probably makes kissy noises before he hangs up.
“seriously? are you–”
whoops. trigger finger’s a bit too itchy today.
adding onto what you said, he’s so sad when you’re upset with him. to me, he seems very disorganised and more of a risk taker. he’s got a body of steel; lots of risks won’t even leave a dent on him. he’s constantly running late to things, constantly leaving tasks unfinished to start something he finds more interesting. he’s in for the thrill of the ride.
one time, he forgot a date he himself had set up.
not only did he come home to find you clearly upset over it, but he was absolutely fuming at himself. apologised one million times to you, two million kisses, probably got on his knees, and he can’t ever forgive himself.
even if you’ve already forgiven him, you’re laughing and trying to get him to stand up because “you’re a grown man acting like this.” he latches onto you like a koala bear.
it’s not even that deep either. it’s just a lunch. it’s not like it was a special occasion. speaking of which, he’d never forget a birthday, valentine’s day, whatever traditional holidays you celebrate. never ever.
he’s actually such a sappy gooey loser it’s so sweet. his favourite thing to do is bury his face in your neck or your chest or your lap. he’s all over you like sticky sweet honey, and you can’t get rid of him that easily.
#boothill x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#boothill#boothill x you#hsr boothill x reader#boothill hsr#✦ ( love mail. )#✦ ( anon. )#✦ ( scribbles. )
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rain, rain, (don't) go away
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: you put your trust in a handsome stranger in the midst of a bit of bizarre wet weather. what could go wrong? (4.6k)
warnings: minimal swearing
a/n: not quite the summer lando series i've been working on but the idea for this came to me in a dream a while ago lmao
It doesn’t often rain in Monaco. Especially not during the summer.
So when you feel a drop splash against your forehead, then another, you’re wildly unprepared. You squint up at the rapidly darkening sky like it's personally wronged you, and you’re met with another raindrop, this time in your eye.
Part of you wonders if you could try and make it home before it starts to pour. The other part knows it would be an impossible feat given your lack of a car and how far you’d have to run in such a short amount of time. Even as you ponder the thought, the occasional drops turn into a heavy drizzle.
You barely make it under the nearest awning before it really starts to come down. All around you are people scrambling to get out of the rain and somewhere dry, caught off guard by the unexpected downpour like you are.
“Crazy rain, huh?” You startle at the sound of a voice from next to you, gaze snapping to your left to see a man huddled under the same awning, most likely having come up with the same idea you did. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologizes, holding his hands up in surrender. “I take it you weren’t expecting rain when you left the house today either?”
You scoff, chuckling. “Was anybody?”
You tear your eyes away from the sky to look at him once more, and to say you’re pleasantly surprised is an understatement.
Your awning buddy is awfully attractive, and looks to be around your age too. A form-fitting black sweater stretches across broad shoulders, paired with baggy blue jeans that might not have worked for everyone, but definitely suits him well. He’s smiling at you too, a lopsided grin that has you intrigued by him. “The one time I didn't check my weather app before I headed out.”
“You actually check the weather app?” He chuckles, tilting his head.
“You don’t?”
“Can’t say that I do. Usually I just trust the vibes when I look out the window. Didn’t really work out today, though.” He holds his palm out from under the makeshift shelter, letting the rain pool in his hand before dumping it on the ground, flicking his fingers to rid them of the excess drops with a scrunched nose. “Is this your first time in Monaco?”
You shook your head, smiling softly. “I live here. You?” He bobs his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s never rained like this though, especially this time of year.”
“If it’s any consolation, I reckon it’ll stop soon. It’s usually pretty quick—”
A bolt of lightning flashes through the sky right at that moment, followed by a clap of thunder not five seconds later. If it continues on like this, you might be stuck here forever.
“Huh! Maybe not.” The man sounds amused, aiming a sympathetic smile at you. You can’t help but chuckle, and you notice it makes him perk up a bit, looking pleased with himself. “Hope you don’t have anywhere to be.”
“Honestly? I don’t. But I’d rather not be standing under this awning til the storm lets up. Could be ages, by the looks of it.”
A stream rushes its way down the street, carrying a sad swirl of leaves down the storm drain at the corner along with it. It seems everyone else has come to their senses and found somewhere warm and dry to wait out the sudden storm because when you look around, the two of you are the only ones still outside.
As if the man can sense what you’re thinking, he speaks. He’s smiling hopefully at you, head tilted invitingly. “There’s a cafe down the block that was open before it started to rain. Care to join me?”
Normally, you’d be wary about a handsome stranger inviting you to an unknown location. This seems like one of those situations you’ve been warned about, but right now you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s about time you put yourself out there, take a chance for once. You’re pretty sure he won’t try to kidnap you.
“I’d love to.” You reply. You peer out at the dreary grey sky again, lips twisting into a grimace. “Is it just me or does it seem to be raining harder?”
“I say we make a break for it. Run like hell on three.” He says firmly. You nod and he does the same, holding out his hand. You slip your fingers through his without a second thought. “One, two, three—go, go, go!”
You both take off in a wild sprint down the sidewalk, splashing through puddles on your way. He giggles the whole time, peals of laughter bouncing off the cobbled street that sound gleeful. You’re laughing too, because who would’ve ever thought you’d be running through the rain hand in hand with a guy you’ve only just met?
He tugs you along, leading the way to your destination confidently. Well, as confident as one can while being half-blinded by a torrential downpour.
You nearly slip as you make a poor attempt at a sudden stop when he finally slows, and you probably would’ve ended up flat on your ass if he hadn’t grabbed you by your forearms, steadying you with an infectious grin that you can’t help but return.
The bell above the door rings when the two of you stumble inside, soaked to the bone even in the very short time it took to get down the road. But you know what they say, when it rains, it pours.
He shakes the rainwater from his hair not unlike a dog would shake out its fur, and in the process splatters you with the droplets. Normally you wouldn’t be too happy about it, but you’re already drenched and he’s very cute, so you don’t mind.
The place is pretty much empty when you look around, save for a handful of other patrons doing their own things. It’s cute though—cozy and warm, the smell of coffee beans and something sweet floating through the air. You never noticed it before, but it’s exactly the kind of cafe that you love.
The man seems to notice that you’re still holding hands, because his cheeks turn pink and he drops it, smiling rather bashfully.
“Sorry. I’m Lando, by the way.” He introduces himself softly, rubbing the back of his neck. You tell him your name and he repeats it, testing it out on his tongue. You’re not ashamed to admit you like the way it sounds when he’s the one saying it. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
“I’m gonna go order something so they don’t think we’re loitering. Preferably something hot, because I’ve got water in places water definitely shouldn’t be.” He shudders, pulling his soggy sweater away from his torso as proof. “Do you want anything?”
You ponder for a moment before responding. “A latte sounds amazing right now. I’ll pay you back, of course.”
Lando shakes his head, backpedaling towards the counter. “My treat. You just sit there and look pretty.” You roll your eyes playfully at him, but smile nonetheless. “Oh look, you’re doing great already!”
That makes your cheeks grow hot. You’ve just met Lando and he’s flirting with you, and you don't mind at all. In fact, you have half a mind to flirt back.
He finds you at a table soon after, balancing two cups and a concerningly large paper bag. You pop to your feet, carefully grabbing the bag to ease the load, and peer into it. There’s at least five different pastries inside, all of them looking absolutely mouthwatering.
“I hope you’re hungry. Got convinced to buy a few things by the lovely old lady at the counter.” Lando says sheepishly, sliding into the seat opposite you. “Very persuasive, she is.”
You shrug. “I could eat.”
You’re not sure how long you sit there, chatting with each other like you're the only two in the world. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to him too. He’s funny and quick-witted and he talks very animatedly with his hands, you notice. You find it cute.
Lando tells you about himself, asks about you and your life story, and you find yourself settling in nicely with his friendly nature. This isn’t a date by any means, but he makes it feel like one by the way he truly pays attention to you and what you're saying, nodding along closely with rapt attention. As far as listeners go, he's a fantastic one.
You’ve also learned a lot about him. He was born and raised in the UK, but moved here a few years ago for work. What exactly did for work, he wasn’t too forthcoming with, but you don’t pay it any mind. You’ve just met, after all. You’re not expecting him to tell you his whole life story.
But it also doesn’t feel like you’ve just met. You aren’t sure why, but Lando has this way of making you feel like you’ve known each other for ages, of making you feel comfortable and at ease with every word out of his mouth.
Your clothes and hair have just started to dry out a bit, and you’re having a great time. Such a nice time, you don’t even notice the girl approaching your table. Lando sees her before you do, and he smiles politely.
“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but are you Lando Norris?” She asks hopefully. She looks young, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Her eyes flick to you, and you can tell she’s nervous, so you smile back. You’re confused to say the least, but you remember what you were like at her age. She reminds you a bit of yourself.
Lando nods. “I am, yeah. What’s your name?”
“Valeria. But everyone here just calls me Val. I’m the owner’s granddaughter, so I work here all the time.”
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Val.”
She looks positively starstruck now, hands trembling as she holds up her phone. “Would you mind if I got a photo with you? You can totally say no if I’m interrupting something, I—”
“You’re alright, love, don’t worry.” Lando stands, moving into selfie position next to her. The poor girl’s arm shakes so much you’re positive the photo won’t turn out clear at all, so you slide out of your seat too.
“Here, let me.” You take the phone gently, motioning the two of them to scoot closer to get them in frame with each other.
Val looks a combination of relieved and grateful, while Lando gives off nothing but a cool, albeit reserved, confidence. The same kind of confidence a celebrity might have when approached by a fan of theirs. But certainly Lando couldn’t be famous…right?
You shake away the idea, snapping a handful of photos before passing it back to her, figuring there can never be too many to choose from. She beams bright, hugging him quickly, then to your surprise, gives you a hug as well.
“Thank you so much! I’ll get out of your hair now. Enjoy your food!” With that, she hurries away with a bounce in her step, disappearing into the kitchen.
You turn to Lando with arched brows. “That was interesting.”
“So interesting.” He echoes, but his tone makes it sound like he doesn’t quite agree.
“What are you, famous or something?” You mean it as a light jest, but Lando looks guilty for some reason. He beckons for you to take your seat again, sliding back into his own before offering you a sheepish smile.
“Um, there might be something I haven’t told you yet.”
“Shit, are you actually famous?”
“...Yeah, kinda.” You arch a curious brow, and he sighs, but not in exasperation. “I’m a Formula One racing driver. For McLaren.”
Formula One…racing…it all sounds slightly familiar, but you can’t quite place it. Then it dawns on you.
Lando isn’t just a local celebrity—he’s literally world famous.
You’ve heard your friends talk about the races before, a few of your relatives who keep up with the sport, but you’d never paid it any mind. It just wasn’t something you could see yourself being interested in. That really famous race that takes place here in the streets every year that makes traffic an absolute fucking nightmare the whole week, Lando drives in that race, and countless others around the world, if you recall your limited knowledge correctly.
He’s…cool. And he’s sitting right here with you in a tiny cafe, and you had no idea who he was.
“Oh my god, you must think I live under a rock or something! This is so embarrassing, I—”
“No, no! I’m not—I don’t go around expecting everyone to know who I am, I swear. It’s just that most people usually do recognize me, and it saves me the whole ‘having to tell them I’m famous’ thing, which always just makes things really awkward, and…yeah.”
“Things don’t have to be awkward.”
“No?”
“No. We don’t even have to talk about it.”
“We don’t?” He sounds a tad wary, but when you nod, the tension in his posture melts away. Relief floods his features at once. “Thank you. It’s actually quite nice to meet someone who has no idea what I do. Makes me feel normal for once.”
“Glad my lack of sports knowledge makes you feel like a regular guy,” You joke, nudging his foot with yours under the table. He gives you a light kick in return, infectious smile back in full bloom once again. You quite like it when he smiles.
You’ve just moved on to a new topic that has nothing to do with Lando’s job when his phone buzzes, making him jolt in surprise. He digs it out of his pocket, and when he sees the name flash across the screen, his eyes go wide.
“Sorry, hang on. I’ve gotta get this.” He says, hitting the answer button. It’s a quick phone call, and you try your best not to eavesdrop, but whoever is on the other line has Lando worked up when he hangs up.
“Everything okay?” You ask lightly. Lando bobs his head quickly.
“Yeah, it’s—I, uh, I’ve gotta go. I forgot about a work event, apparently. That was my press officer, wondering where the hell I am and how fast I can get there.” He sounds disappointed, smiling almost sadly. “So much for feeling normal.”
You try your best not to let your face fall when you nod. “I should get going too. Get home before the next freak summer rainstorm.”
It’s nice when you step outside. You tilt your face up towards the sky, feeling the sun warm your face. This is the Monaco you know and love. Though if it hadn’t rained, you would’ve never met Lando.
He turns to face you, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Thanks for the nice afternoon. I had a good time.”
“Me too.”
“Maybe I’ll see you around?”
“Maybe you will.”
“I certainly hope so.” He says softly. You shift slightly on the balls of your feet, suddenly feeling awkward. You’re not sure how to leave things with him, and it looks like he feels the same by the way he mirrors your actions. “Um, I really should leave, so…goodbye, I guess?” The look on his face tells you that leaving is the last thing he wants to do, but he has to.
“Bye, Lando.”
“Bye.” He echoes, one more time before turning away from you to head down the street.
You can only bring yourself to wait a few seconds before you call his name again. He turns around instantly despite his hurry, meeting your gaze. You want to say something to him that’ll make him remember you, because chances are you’ll never cross paths again. If you were brave enough, maybe you'd even ask him for his number. But you’re not, so you don’t. Instead, you just smile at him.
“Thanks for the latte.”
If he’s disappointed, he hides it well. He smiles back at you, warm and bright like the sun beginning to peek out from behind the clouds. “Of course.”
You watch him walk away, fighting that pesky little feeling in your gut telling you that you’re making a mistake by letting him go. It’ll go away soon, and you’ll go on with your life like you’re meant to.
-------
You find yourself going back to the same cafe often, whenever you're out and want a little treat before you go home. The pastries are always still as delicious as the first time you had them, and you’ve become well acquainted with the staff as the time goes on.
Oh, and that feeling you had when you let Lando leave without a word?
It never went away. It’s still here, worming its way into your thoughts every chance it can get.
You’re a little embarrassed to admit that every time you walk into the cafe, you hope you’ll see Lando. It’s wishful thinking more than anything, hoping he’ll be there when you go. He’s probably busy doing his thing anywhere but here, busy racing around in the world to the tune of thousands of screaming fans. You’re not sure if he even remembers you, or the afternoon you’d spent together.
Why would he? In the world of Lando Norris, world famous Formula One driver, you’re probably just a speck of dirt in his rearview mirror.
The thought gets pushed to the back of your mind as you step up to the counter to order. Val beams at you from behind the register.
“Hey, Val,” You greet the young girl warmly, returning her smile. You’ve become quite fond of her and her youthful energy, and she always brightens your day. “How’s business going?”
“Oh you know, same old.” Val waves an absentminded hand in the air as she keys in your usual order with the other. Her smile turns mischievous at the same time, like she knows something you don’t, and you narrow your eyes at her, already knowing what she's going to ask. “Have you heard from Lando?”
“No, I haven’t. How’s summer school going?”
She makes a funky face at you, rolling her eyes. “Boring. Way to change the subject though.” Before she can press any more about Lando, someone calls her name from the kitchen. “Ugh, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfy, wait for your order, you know the drill!”
You chuckle to yourself, heading straight for your usual table by the window to wait for your name to be called.
You like to sit while you enjoy your food and drink, watching the people and cars go by outside. The streets of Monaco are always busy and bustling, but being in here feels like a pocket of peace.
“Is this seat taken?”
Your brow crinkles at the sudden voice, because you know for a fact there are at least four or five other empty tables available other than the one you’re currently sitting at, but this person chose to to ask you.
Pocket of peace…disrupted.
You let out a short sigh through your nose, turning your head from the window to politely tell them to find another seat, preferably at a table that isn’t yours, and that’s when you see him.
Lando is grinning at you when you look over, lopsided and endearing just like the first time you met him.
“Oh fuck!” You can’t help the expletive that falls from your mouth at the sight of him, even though there’s a thousand other things you’d told yourself you’d say to Lando if you ever saw him again. He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, and he’s rocking on the balls of his feet slightly like he’s nervous as he waits for you to do something other than curse at him. “Lando! I—you—hi.”
“Hi,” He echoes, shoulders creeping up towards his ears. All you can do is stare at him, wide eyed in disbelief. “Mind if I sit?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, yes, you can sit.” You fumble over your words like you’re not used to speaking, feeling your cheeks flame embarrassingly hot. Lando just chuckles, sliding into the chair across from you. “Um, so how’ve you been?”
He rubs at the back of his neck, bobbing his head. “Good! Bit busy. We had a triple header the last three weeks, so it’s just nice to be home again.”
“Oh, I bet. I don’t think I’d be very good company if I couldn’t sleep in my own bed for three straight weeks.”
“That’s fair. Though to be honest, I’ve gotten scarily good at falling asleep anywhere. If it’s a flat surface, I can nap.”
“I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.”
“Impressed would be mint. Otherwise I just sound like a dumbass.”
You laugh at that, and in this moment, you realize just how much you’ve missed Lando. No matter how many times you’ve tried to convince yourself to forget about him, to convince yourself that there was no point in pining after someone you’d only spent a few hours with, it all came back to this. You missed him because you like him.
“I need to tell you something.” He blurts suddenly, bracing his elbows on the table.
You nod, expression turning thoughtful. Whatever thoughts you’re having about liking Lando can wait. “Sure, go ahead.”
“This is gonna sound unbelievably weird and maybe even a little bit creepy, but I need to get it off my chest or else I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Lando looked nervous. The bouncing of his leg you can feel under the table and the way he plays with his fingers supports your theory.
You cock your head at him, reaching across the surface to steady his fidgeting with a hand over both of his. His gaze snaps down to your touching hands, and you can see him visibly gulp.
“What’s going on? Are you okay, is something wrong?”
He shakes his head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. Everything is…the opposite, really. Everything is right. Meeting you, finding my way back to you—here of all places. I don’t believe in fate or anything like that, but this sure feels like something along those lines.”
“Lando, I—”
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that afternoon. I tried everything. Nothing worked. I couldn’t get you out of my head.” He confesses. His fingers curl around yours gently, thumb stroking over the ridges of your knuckles. “If I’m being completely with myself, I think it’s because I didn’t want to get you out of my head. And I just got off the plane an hour ago, but instead of going home and passing out like I usually do, I came here, hoping that somehow, you’d be here too.”
“Can I say something now?” You ask lightly, stifling a giggle.
His cheeks flush an embarrassed pink, and he motions for you to go ahead. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. I talk too much when I get nervous. I’m working on it, I—fuck, sorry again. You go. I’ll shut up.”
“I still think it’s cute.”
“Is that the only thing about me you still think is cute, or…?”
That gets another laugh out of you. You chuckle, giving his hand a squeeze. “Not at all. I still think all of you is cute, and…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either. We haven’t known each other long, but I really like you, Lando.”
“I could kiss you right now.”
“What’s stopping you?”
You don’t have time to second guess your newfound confidence before he’s leaning across the table, sliding a large hand over your jaw and pressing his lips against yours. Lando kisses you softly—gentle, like he’s worried you’ll pull away if he’s too forward with it.
You’re fully aware that you’re smiling like a madman against his lips, but in your defense, he is too. His eyes open slowly when you pull away, almost tentatively as if he’s not quite sure what just happened actually happened.
He leans back just enough to study you, letting his gaze flit around your face, taking in every detail he possibly can. All while he grins larger than Cheshire cat, like he’s a kid whose parents just told them they could get whatever they wanted at the candy shop, instead of kissing you for the first time.
“I was gonna be nice and bring you your order, but it looks like you’ve already got something sweet.” Val’s voice cuts through the moment, and when you look over at her, she looks over the moon.
“Lando, you remember Val, right?”
“Uh huh,” Lando hums, holding out his hand for a fist bump that she happily gives him. “Thanks again for the heads up.”
“Hold on, what? What heads up?”
The two of them share a look, like they’re debating whether or not to tell you their secret. Then Lando sighs, giving her a go ahead nod, and she squeals, setting your food down.
“Okay, so you know how you come in here all the time after work? Well me, being the keenly observant, brilliant young mind I am, noticed a pattern. You come on the same days, at the same time, and you never stray.” She explains excitedly, all but bouncing on the balls of her feet. You aim a questioning glance over at Lando, who just gives another amused nod.
Val continues excitedly, “So I’m expecting you today, right? But then the door opens and guess who walks in? Lando! He asks me if you’ve ever come back here after that one day and I’m like oh my god, you have no idea! So I tell him to wait a half hour for you, and now you’re both here and my matchmaking skills can be put to rest.”
“Are you being serious right now? Really, I can’t tell.”
She tilts her head, popping a hand on her hip. For the same girl who’d been so nervous to meet Lando just weeks ago, she’s got a surprising amount of sass in his presence today. “Why would I not be serious? I’m basically a genius, and I expect to be invited to the wedding. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Alright, that’s enough, cheers, Val!” Lando blurts, shooting her a pointed look.
“Can I get paddock passes for making this whole thing happen? Preferably Monaco but I could probably make it to Monza too. Imola is a little far.”
Lando blinks at her for a few moments, probably seeing if she actually means it. When all she does is raise her eyebrows, he concedes. “Maybe. I’ll make some calls, see what I can do.”
“Fantastic. Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone!”
You both watch as she all but skips happily off, then turn back to each other.
“She’s…definitely something,” You sigh, shaking your head. Secretly, you owe her everything.
“Eh, I dunno. Kid’s growing on me.” He reaches across the table, lacing his fingers through yours with a fond twinkle in those pretty eyes of his.
“How serious are you about those paddock passes?”
“I mean…she did help me out massively. I’d have missed you if it weren’t for her.” Lando shrugs, rubbing an absentminded thumb over yours. “I hope you know I would’ve come back until I found you again. Everyday, if I had to.”
“Me too.”
If you’d told your past self that a bizarre summer rainstorm in sunny Monaco would’ve led you to where you are right now, you wouldn’t have believed it. But now, as you sit here with Lando, smiling at each other like complete and total idiots, you’ve never been more grateful for a bit of unexpected rain.
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#lando norris#lando norris x reader#ln4 x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x fem!reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris fic#lando norris one shot
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cw: it’s just angst
“i’m not mad.”
satoru closes and locks the front door, trailing after you into the kitchen, apprehension rising in the space kept between you. “really? because you seem kind of mad…”
“it’s fine, gojo.” you snap. “i’m fine.”
he watches you, quiet as the two of you go about your evening routine. leftovers from meals brought to the infirmary stowed away. week-old laundry tossed into the basket. you don’t say a word to him, emotions you don’t know how to make sense of still simmering.
“i’m sorry,” he says plainly as you’re both putting away the dishes.
you wipe your hands on the tea towel, glancing over at him. “do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”
he shifts, unsure. “no…”
“of course you don’t,” you sigh.
“then tell me,” he insists, exasperated. “i don’t want to fight.”
“i don’t want to either,” you snap. “but you’re doing it again.”
“doing what?”
“you just spent a week in the infirmary. you were hurt.”
“c’mon,” he laughs weakly. “there was no real chance of me dying.”
“that’s not the—” you voice rises, then immediately quiets when you realize the kids are asleep. “that’s not the point. you’re losing yourself in it again. soon you’re going to drift away from us— from me,” you tell him, bleeding into the pain you’ve felt the last few days. “like you did when we were in school.”
because for as long as you’d known gojo, his drive was to constantly do more. be more. the period of time after the failure that was the star plasma vessel mission was the first time you’d witnessed it. gojo satoru doesn’t do anything halfway. he won’t permit himself to.
that’s what really scares you. he doesn’t know when to stop.
“i’m sorry that i worried you,” he apologizes, sincerity etched into his expression. you know him, know that he’s scared to say the wrong thing, that he’ll mess this up or somehow make it worse. “i had to. the higher ups—”
“satoru,” you interrupt, walls crumbling right in front of him. “i’ve always liked that you care about the jujutsu world. i just don’t want you to only care about it. not with where we are in our lives right now.”
“i don’t—”
“you do! you always have, and i get it. i know the world needs you…but things are getting worse, and we need to start thinking about the future—”
“everything i’m doing is for the future. for the future generation of sorcerers all over the world—”
“i don’t care about the world! i just care about you, and that’s the problem. one person always cares more in a relationship and that’s always been me.”
“that’s not true,” he insists, a desperate edge in his voice. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve never needed is you—”
“i need you too! maybe that sounds selfish or needy, but i don’t want there to be a day where i have to tell the kids that you’re not coming home. if you can’t understand that—”
he doesn’t think you realize you’re crying, frustrated tears gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill over. satoru reaches for you out of instinct, your argument the furthest thing from both your minds at this moment. you let him pull you into his arms, let him hold you.
but you’re exhausted.
this is fight you’ve been having since the moment you’d met him, and you don’t think he’ll understand the impact of it until you walk away.
“if you don’t understand that,” you continue softly, “then maybe we need to take a break.”
_____
outside the apartment door, nanami and shoko sit side by side, sharing a bottle of "welcome home" wine.
"guess they forgot we were coming over," the doctor mutters, pressing her ear against the door to see if jujutsu tech's favourite couple was still fighting. “it’s way too quiet in there. you think she killed him?”
nanami sighs, loosening his tie. “it’s quite possible.”
“i’ll be the alibi and you’ll get rid of the body?”
“of course.”
#fushigojo breakup fic part one#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#keeping up with the fushigojos#jjk angst
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♡︎ 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙖 ♡︎
characters: priest!sub!blade x demon lord!nb!dom!reader
warnings: breeding, creampie, eating out, fingering, squirting, monsterfucking, non-verbal ask of consent, dirty talk, feminization (like literally), lactating, nipple stimulation, overstimulation, dacryphilia, size kink, belly bulge, cervix kissing, blade is a demon hunting priest, reader is a demon lord so they can choose whether to have a cock or pussy so basically genderfluid reader???? also reader changes blade’s anatomy to have a pussy and womb — it’s so messy okay😭😭
word count: 4.4K
notes: you KNOW shit is getting real when nobu starts word count. never thought i would be writing a bit of a dark-ish content yet here we are. the power of the horny😔 also inspired by my chat with one of ririshizu’s bots
special thank you to @theblades and @yenaakwyl for proofreading a whole damn 14 pages of filth
being a priest is no laughing matter. especially when you’re the type of priest that hunts and gets rid of demons who somehow ended up with a demon lord clinging to you, who’s constantly at your side, asking you questions about the human realm.
what was up with you, anyways? a literal demon lord, one of the lords of a deadly sin and yet here you were, dragging him around the streets, pointing at random things, wanting to sample every street food there were. sure, your human form was incredibly deceiving. a short, sweet human, clinging to his arm, excitedly pointing at the many different things that caught your attention. it would be hard for anyone to think of you as a demon lord in disguise.
except for blade. he’s been in this field of work for such a long time. constantly vanquishing demons who either were too annoying or possessed a poor, curious soul. the sharp edge of his shard sword is no laughing matter.
but you didn’t seem to mind. this demon lord, acting like a curious puppy, pulling him to each sides of the streets — ignoring the loud angry shouts of the car drivers and the constantly thinning of his wallet of course. not that blade had much to worry when it came to financial freedom. putting his life on the line and vanquishing demons from the human realm pays a generous amount.
it felt wrong to allow you to cling to him. you, a demon lord, no matter what your disguises meant or whatever pathetic excuse you came up with of wanting to sample human food. he should have gotten rid of you sooner yet no matter how much his hands twitch to unsheathe his shard sword, he just can’t seem to do it. no matter what his threats may seem or be heard of, the priest just can’t bring himself to harm you. if anything, he finds himself doing the absolute opposite, to his blatant horror.
“wait, no, don’t do that. the water just boiled so it’s hot, it could burn your tongue”
“you do realize that ice isn’t meant to be eaten, right? no, i don’t care how much of a pretty shape it’s in or if it still has the aftertaste of the coffee”
“if you eat too much raw red pepper, you could have a heart stroke. 14 is enough on one sitting. give it here”
yes, you get the point. a priest vanquishing demon, living together with a demon lord and even protecting them. hypocritical, right?
one night, as you two were cuddling on the couch and absentmindedly watching cliche horror movies that has demons with red skin and horns and a tail, that reminded something to blade. demons have unique demon forms depending on their sins and ‘birth’. but you never once showed an ounce of your demon form. not even a single slip-up.
“hmm? why do you ask? curious?” you hum softly, taking another fistful of the popcorn in the bowl. not that blade minded. if anything, he unconsciously pushed the bowl of popcorn closer to you.
“i guess so. you never even spoke of your demon form whether it has a tail or not” the priest mumbles, his husky voice turning softer just for a moment. or maybe he was just sleepy, judging by his dark eye-bags and little yawns.
oh right, you never did. but then again, blade never asked of your demon form before so, it’s to be expected after all.
just as blade had shrugged off your silence and turned his attention back to the tv, he felt something slithering around his waist. swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he briefly looks down at what was wrapping around his waist. there, snug around his hips was a long, pale white, scaled, snake-like tail. it seemed incredibly long, judging by how it easily wrapped around his hips few times and the rest was just dangling off of the side of the couch.
was this…?
he could feel his hand twitch. itching, something under his skin itching of wanting to reach down and run his hand over the smooth looking scales of the tail.
pat! pat pat!
before blade could even make sense of what the fuck he just did, his hand had unconsciously unraveled from it’s former crossed position. one hand going down, flattening his palm over the smooth, large tail before giving it a few pats. at the same time, he could hear another low pat pat! sounds coming from the side of the couch. must be your tail ends flicking and hitting against the couch, he deducted.
briefly, blade steals a glance at your face. still watching the movie on the TV, seemingly paying no mind to the feeling of his human hand resting over your tail. it was oddly warm to the touch. from the look of it resembling a snake like tail, he expected it to be cold.
slowly, he runs his hand over the scales. soft, smooth and easily gliding over them as if it was nothing. sure, some bumps are felt on the palm of his hand but other than the occasional little ridges, it was completely smooth. how… soothing.
blade doesn’t know how or when but over the course of time you spent at his apartment, these little moments of playing with your tail had become a normal occurrence. little moments of “affection” if you will. fridays had become the weekly movie nights. blade would put on some random horror movie that you chose to be the most interesting based on the summary of the movie. half an hour or so into the movie and blade would feel the familiar scales of your tail wrap around his hips.
the priest would sometimes toy with your tail in hopes of getting you to show your true color of being a demon lord. to make you angry. to make you snap and finally show your true colors. if anything, it had the complete opposite effect as your tail only tightened around him. low, deep rumbling sounds akin to a purr coming from the depths of your chest.
briefly, the priest would catch himself wondering how it would feel to lay his head on your chest as you purr. cats have de-stressing and soothing qualities to their purrs. would demons be the same? sometimes, he would even catch himself thinking of… sacrilegious things. like how your tail would feel wrapped around his legs, opening him up for you. how your form could shapeshift and could have a human male’s anatomy. would you purposefully make it big? would you force it past his twitching rim, uncaring of his whines and pleads to wait?
ah, but that sounded so unlike you. despite being a demon lord, you have been nothing but calm and peaceful with blade. soft hums, nods of agreement, always needing his help and inquiring him of his thoughts on something.
then, would you coax him? whispering soft reassurances in the shell of his ear as you softly push your cock inch by inch inside him. a large, clawed, inhuman hand running over his stomach, talking about all sorts of things, promising to breed him full of your seeds as he cries. opening his legs wide with your tail wrapped around his thighs, wiping away his tears as he cries so prettily?
“f-fuck…” unknowingly, blade found himself with a little problem. another movie night, another time spent together ‘cuddling’. yet due to his own thoughts, blade finds himself embarrassingly hard. shit, he needed to find a way to leave the room and take care of his problem. but your tail way starting to curl around him in loops, just like how a snake would wrap itself around it’s prey.
did you know? know of his raging hard on and was just teasing him now? no. taking a brief glance at your face caused blade to come to a conclusion that you didn’t know. yet. that was the biggest part. or maybe you did considering just how your tail was moving around his waist. slipping under the hem of his shirt, slipping up, curling around his body under his shirt. scale coming in contact with skin. blade almost let out a moan at the feeling if it weren’t for him biting down on his lips.
“[n-name], get your tail off. i need to use the bathroom” internally cursing himself out for stuttering, blade can only hope that you would oblige. gods, just the way you let out a soft “hmm?” while playing innocent, smiling at him and blinking like nothing happened while your tail curls around his skin.
fuck, he was done for. you knew. you fucking knew.
“are you sure? your body seems to react positively from the amount of human interaction that i’ve had until now, blade” the end of your tail circles around his peck. slowly trailing the end as if you were going to squeeze—
“n-ngaah?!” a surprised noise comes from the priest’s mouth before he clenches his jaws shut, brows furrowing together as he tries to ignore the feeling on his chest. soft and slow circles. the end of your tail was wrapped around his nipple, pulling and rolling it between as if it was nothing. shit, when did his chest get so sensitive?
“oh that was a cute sound. do it again” you hum, turning away from the TV and looking at him now. curse you for looking so damn interested and curious as your tail fondles his nubs. blade can feel his pants starting to form a wet patch as his breathing becomes more labored.
“t-take… your goddamn tail off. i swear, i’ll ghh—! chop it into pieces…!” despite his best efforts, his words had no bite. just weak mumblings of a pathetic excuse of a priest being turned on as a literal demon lord tugs at his nipple. he was even starting to quietly whine in place as he tries to swallow down his moans.
“say, blade. i read from somewhere that human chest can lactate when stimulated enough. can you lactate?” blade almost shrieked at your words. lactating? him? while it was true that human women can lactate if they gave birth, he was unsure about men being able to lactate.
“n-no! can’t! i’m a man, it’s impossible for my chest to produce mi—ungh!” his words die quickly in his throat when your tail clenched around his nipple tightly. pulling on it, familiar to a pinching motion. since when did his body get so sensitive like this? or was this all your doing? did you secretly put a spell on him to make him sensitive?
“stop..! [n-name] stop ooungh! please, stop! i’m telling you, i’m a man. i can’t lactate like a woman!” his pleads fall on deaf ears as you slip his shirt off over his head. instead this time, using your hands to knead and fondle his pecks. squeezing, rolling his sensitive nubs between your fingers, even tugging on them. it all got blade letting out uncharacteristic high pitched noises like a cat in heat.
“p-please… stop this, [name]..” blade trails off, red in the face, shame, embarrassment and arousal swirling in his stomach like a hot bubbling lava as he admits defeat and whines helplessly.
“then wriggle yourself out of my tail. it’s loose around you, bladie” you briefly retort as you suckle on his nipple. mouth latched to his chest, biting and planting wet kisses all around his soft pink areola. as weak as his whimpers and pathetic his begging were, he really wasn’t making a single attempt to pull back. you have given him enough chances even now as your tail stays loose around him. yet he still tries to act like he hates it.
switching between giving attention to his two nipples with blade not even thinking of pulling himself out of your tail, the movie plays in the background, long forgotten. you were determined to make this weird human of yours lactate. you can make him!
it didn’t took much longer until blade let out a yelp as a warm liquid drops in your mouth. the taste oddly sweet and a bit thick in texture. realizing that his chest was feeling much more heavier and nipples felt more wetter than before, the priest’s eyes widen in horror and arousal. did you really managed to stimulate him enough to make him lactate?
“oh? so, i was right! humans can lactate regardless of their gender” you let out a soft giggle, internally cheering as a bright smile comes across your face. the sheer amount of exuberance you showed in his lactation had caused blade to feebly attempt to cover his chest.
“don’t! don’t look… it’s embarrassing…” the man whines, shaking hands covering up his leaking nubs. but that proves to be futile as his hands covering his chest had caused him to twitch. everything felt so much and so little at the same time. his poor cock was neglected and weeping, staining his pants as you stimulate his nipples as he whines.
this wasn’t supposed to happen! he wasn’t supposed to be this sensitive to your touches.
but the leaking of his milk had seemed to cause something to stir in your chest. an odd sense of possessiveness and need to claim him growing in your heart, tugging at it. laying your palm flat against his stomach, you rub slow circles onto it. somehow, it had helped to lessen blade’s embarrassment.
“bladie, how would you feel if i were to make you my baby momma?” your voice cuts him out of the trance like state he was in. blinking his eyes a few times with a weak “huh?” as if he hadn’t heard you. with a quiet chuckle, you ask again. repeating the question to him slowly in case he was too pleasure driven.
baby momma? but that’s something that people refer to when women get pregnant right? were you referring to making him pregnant? but that was impossible! he was a man and men had different anatomy compared to women’s!
“i can use a few spells. you would have a female anatomy. but only if you wish to be my baby momma. i would take good care of you and the kids, we’d be together as a cute family. don’t you think we’d be a cute family, blade?” he could briefly hear you hum. but the rest of your words flew over his head since the female anatomy part.
a female anatomy. blade would have a pussy, a womb, cervix the perfect anatomy to get pregnant. he would be a cute baby momma. your baby momma. and he would carry your kids. a child who was half you and half him, a cute bundle of sunshine.
“please… please do. make me your baby momma. i wanna be your b-baby momma..!” blade nods frantically, not even bothering to think over the consequences too deeply. but the prospect of having your kids, of having you inside him got blade rubbing his thighs together, head spinning with all sorts of thoughts as his breathing becomes labored. you said you would take good care of him and the kids! he’ll be in good hands.
although a part of his brain was screaming at him, telling him to withdraw from the touch of your palm running over his stomach, changing his insides, blade could only sit there dumbly. a baby. a cute baby that you two made together. it would be so sweet, so cute. blade couldn’t wait any longer as he silences the logical part of his brain. all he wanted was you now. just you and nothing else.
the process didn’t take long. a few strokes of your hand and soothing whispers to his ear and it was done. or at least, from what you said. and oh fuck, was it true. when you tugged his pants and boxers off, what greeted both of your eyes was a slick pussy, dripping with arousal. seeing how you had successfully changed him, the priest lets out a weak whine, closing his legs to hide himself.
you didn’t seem to like that. clicking your teeth as your tail wraps around his leg, pulling his legs apart and allowing your hungry eyes to feast on his dripping cunt. blade couldn’t help his whine as the feeling of being so empty took place in his head. or was it inside his womb that he felt so empty?
“so sweet. you would look so cute with my cum dripping out of you” you mutter, running a finger up his wet pussy. the action got his hips twitching, trying to make you push your finger inside himself. tutting softly, reminding him to be patient, you slowly ease a finger in. oh gods, the stretch felt so good. so full and filled already despite it being just a single finger that was now slowly massaging his plush walls.
the soft whines and gasps coming out of blade turns into a moan as he throws his head back on the couch. long, navy hair spreading over the mattress as your fingers scissor him open. you would have expected him to be more… reclusive considering his usual act. perhaps you were wrong. the way that blade was throwing his head back, moaning without shame as his warm walls suck your fingers in greedily caused you to almost mistaken him for a virgin. or maybe he was just touch starved. poor thing.
cooing words of how he was doing good, how his gushy cunt was sucking in your fingers so prettily, you lean down to pepper kisses on his clit. long, forked tongue coming out momentarily to slip inside him with your fingers, constantly flicking his clit. the action caused to have made him oversensitive. strong, scarred thighs coming up to wrap around your head, a hand fisting at your locks as loud, pathetic whines of “c-can’t! feelss sho weird! [n-name], can’t—gyuuck! aanh aah♡︎!!” trails off into a high pitched whines as his hips jerk. legs clamping around your head in a vice grip, fisting at your locks tightly as his back arches off of the couch so prettily as he squirts in your mouth. ah right, in your own haze, you’ve forgotten and accidentally pushed your tongue in too far, hitting his g-spot.
well, that was fine. the cold priest sounded so cute and tasted delicious as he twitches under you. it would be fine to fuck him open with your tongue and prepare him thoroughly.
blade doesn’t know what to think anymore. was he even able to think? all he could do was to moan and shriek, trashing about on the bed as something deep and long slithers inside him. his cunt was being fucked open, wet sounds coming out as he gushes all over your mouth, tongue and chin. fluids dribbling down to your chin as you continue to force his legs open with your tail, arms wrapped around his waist and pulling him back into your mouth and fingers.
by the time you thought of him as prepped enough and pull your tongue and fingers out, blade could only weakly whine at the feeling of something pulling out of his warm insides. legs shaking, face flushed as dried tear stains cover his cheeks. his pretty red eyes looked so hazy, mind filled with cotton and statics. you haven’t even gotten to the main part yet!
blade feels something wrap around him. something bigger, warmer and gentle. clawed hands wrapping around his slender waist, pulling him against a massive frame. was this… was he on your real form right now?
tilting his head back to look at you, his hunch proves to be correct. no longer were you in your small human disguise. large, pale white figure with horns, tail and claw holding him in a safe cocoon in it’s embrace. despite having deep hatred against your kin, the priest couldn’t bring himself to hate you. instead, he oddly found your real form beautiful.
“huh…?” his thought gets cut off short when he feels something poke at his entrance. looking down, a sharp gasp escapes him. by the gods were you huge. girthy and long, thick with need and ready to fill him to the brim with your seeds. blade wasn’t sure if he could take such a large thing inside himself as he instinctively shut his legs close.
almost as if sensing his inner worries, you place a hand over his stomach, other hand spreading his legs wider to make it easier for you to slip in.
“don’t worry, pet. i’ll make sure it fits” your deeper, almost inhuman voice hums right beside his ear, sending shivers down his spine. although your words were soothing, the large tip of your cock pushing past his walls, opening his cunt wider was definitely not comforting. fuck, just the tip inside and blade was already thrashing about, shaking his head and stuttering out how he can’t fit it inside him.
“w-wait! w-won’t hhgh fit! ish too big! too bigtoobigtoobig—! m-my lo—oough! aanh! ish t-too fu-uck! big♡︎♡︎” the human squeals, cries, sobs and moans. loud lecherous noises coming from both his mouth and cunt. wet noises flooding the room alongside the low grunts and deep growls. you sounded inhumane, you felt inhumane but blade loved it all the more. the priest loved being spread open by your large cock, pushing past his hole, feeling his plushy walls and insides. ah, he could die happily filled to the brim like this.
finally, after long minutes of slowly easing yourself inside, you managed to fit your cock inside him. snug to the brim, tip kissing his cervix and making blade squeal. legs shaking and twitching, he came on your cock again at the feeling of your tip kissing his cervix. he saw that you were big but not this big! gods, he felt so damn full.
“so pretty, my mate. so full of me and i haven’t even fucked you properly yet” you grunt, deep, inhumane voice breathing by his ear and making him shake and twitch in your grasp like a sweet fawn. blade wouldn’t mind being a sacrificial lamb to you.
through tear stained eyes and blurry vision, he could make out the faint outline of your cock in his stomach. you were too big to the point your were causing a bulge inside him by just slipping your cock inside. how full would he feel after you have properly made him a baby momma? cunt weeping out a mixture of your cum, belly bulging so cutely. just the imagination of such action made blade buck his hips weakly. too fucked out to even utter a word.
feeling the pathetic excuse of movement of your cock, you let out a low laugh. tail wrapped around one of his legs, the other held open by your hand as you finally bounce him on your cock. slowly, slipping yourself in and out and yet the priest in your hand was sobbing as he blabbers deliriously about being fucked dumb on your cock. of having your babies inside his own womb. of being your sweet mate.
blade was a big guy. in human terms and physique wise, he was big. and yet in your lap, held open by your hands, back to your chest as he allows himself to be dumbed down on your girth made blade realize just how damn small he was compared to you. sure, he was big in human terms but compared to you, he was absolutely nothing. just a small hole for you to use. a fleshlight to be filled with your cum until you were satisfied. your baby momma to have his chest fondled and squeezed until his chest grows sore and heavy. milk leaking out it small globs from his sensitive pink nipples.
“my pet. my cute mate. my sweet other half. my adorable breeding bitch uhng… so fucking tight. so warm and tight like the cute little thing you are” blade could briefly hear you groan, heavy breaths falling on his neck, making him shiver at each breaths. making him cry and moan in a shrill voice like a girl each time your cock slid inside him. plunging deeper into parts he never knew before, grazing that one soft spot that made him shriek, tip hitting his cervix at each thrust. blade was so sure that it was bruised now. not that he minded it, the pain felt good to him.
“y-yours—! yours yours yours! your c-cute ma—aaanhg! aaanh haagh gyaaamf♡︎ y-your mate. your oouungh other half. y-your adorable♡︎ breeding bitch—!” blade’s mouth fell open in a silent scream, head throwing back to your shoulder when he felt your hand press on the bulge in his stomach. it felt good. so good that he immediately squirted on your cock again at the sheer pleasure the pressure brought.
but of course you wouldn’t stop. you would keep going, forcing his small body to bounce on your cock, occasionally tweaking his nipples, rolling his clit between your fingers. you were damn adamant on making him pregnant, breed him until you were damn sure he was knocked up.
he was yours. your human. your mate. your fated other half. your cute breeding bitch and you would be damned all over again if he ends up not getting pregnant by the time you’re done. blade was yours. no one else would ever take him away from you. no one. no one no one no one, no one else—
“AAANGH! M-MY LORD♡︎ c-cock giick! sho full…” the human shrieks and twitches in your grasp, legs weakly thrashing around as you finally cum deep inside him. the warmth of your seed spurting inside his gummy walls, painting his insides white causing blade to cum again. blade felt so full, the skin of his stomach stretching a bit to accommodate to the great amount of cum that was inside him. it felt so warm and sticky. messy, as it dribbles down your shaft, his small human body unfit to keep it all inside himself.
“my cute mate…” you purr softly, arms wrapping around your mate as he twitches and shakes. cheeks stained with old and new tears, jaws slack with drool dribbling down with his face as red as his eyes. he was yours now. blade was your human now. the weird priest was yours and no one would ever take him away from you.
“mine” with that final declaration, you placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head. he seemed to relax at the kiss, sinking against your chest as he black out. that was fine. you’ll make sure to breed him again once he wakes up.
#nobu.writes#sub hsr#sub honkai star rail#sub!hsr#sub blade#sub!blade#sub character#sub!character#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail smut#hsr smut#hsr x reader#hsr x you#hsr x y/n#blade x reader smut#blade x y/n#blade smut#blade x reader#dark content#dom gn reader#x dom reader#dom!reader#dom reader
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The Harkonnen's Claim
Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader
Summary: Your brother, Paul, took you from Feyd in a vulnerable moment, and if he wants the woman he loves back, he will have to give your brother something in return.
Notes/Warnings: this is part 2 of 2. Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Mention of pregnancy (present) and miscarriage (past). Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Smutty-ish (18+) and fluffy stuff, tidbit of angst. I'm sure there are spelling mistakes. I read it twenty times, but you know how it is. I think that’s it.
Words: 3300
Feyd Masterlist Part 1
You can’t see him—your eyelids are too heavy—but he’s shouting. Cursing. With each of his grunts glass shatters and metal clangs against the walls. Feminine voices are shrieking in sync with the rageful sounds coming from your lover and his actions. He is scaring them. He shouldn’t be scaring them. It isn’t their fault.
“Get out!” he yells.
More shrieks. Multiple pairs of feet rapidly shuffle about. The door slams and then Feyd is sitting beside you on the bed, one hand brushing your hair back from your forehead, the other rubbing up and down your forearm and pulling it onto his lap.
“My love…” he says, “It’s ok. You’re ok.”
You swallow hard and peel open your eyelids to see his face hovering above you. A sigh leaves his lips when his eyes connect with yours.
“They were only here to help,” you mutter.
Feyd bites down hard, sharpening the line of his jaw. He has much to say, you know, but he struggles to release his frustration in any manner other than shouting or fighting in the arena. Right now, he can’t do either.
“They did nothing to help,” he softly snaps.
But he’s wrong. The women he brought in to examine you did exactly as they were told. It’s just that their conclusion upon taking a look at you was not what he, nor you, expected to hear.
“Considering the excessive bleeding, she seems to have—” the woman paused; you could hear the tremble in her voice “—lost the baby, my Na-Baron. I’m very sorry.”
Neither of you has spoken about heirs or lineage or combining the genetics of Great Houses. You hadn’t even known of your pregnancy until you heard them tell Feyd that you are no longer carrying the child, and yet, you feel a tremendous loss. You instantly wonder what that child would have been. A boy? A girl? Would they have been a warrior like their father? Or more level-headed like their mother? Maybe a combination of both—that would probably be best for everyone.
“We’ll try again when you feel better,” Feyd tells you, leaning down and pressing his forehead into yours.
Slowly closing your eyes, you reach a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, your thumb caressing between his ear and the curve of his jaw. “Feyd, we weren’t trying to begin with.”
“Does that mean we shouldn’t?” he asks. “You are meant to be the mother of my heir.”
You sigh. “Feyd–”
“You are,” he demands, but you can detect his hidden plea. “You will be.”
—
They are scared of him—your son—or, at least, she is.
With your ear pressed against the door, you can hear them in the halls. Mother and son arguing over your value.
“Get rid of them, Paul, while you still can,” Lady Jessica implores him. “It’s in our best interest. You have no idea the kind of man she will raise that baby to be.”
But Paul has embraced his new role. There’s no hesitation in how he speaks to her anymore. His words are firm, but well-chosen. He truly was born to be a leader, just not the leader the Universe agreed on.
“The boy will one day be the Baron, and by then, he will have grown stronger than most, his father included,” Paul confirms. “But we only benefit from having that on our side. From Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s need for my sister, an alliance will be formed that could last decades, maybe centuries. But if you harm her, he will come at us in a way his House never has before. And if he finds out you also took his child from him then he’ll spend the rest of his life hunting you, me, Alia…Chani…your future grandchildren—he won’t stop.”
Paul sighs. You can picture him running his hand through his curly locks. He’s done that ever since he was a child. From the moment his little hand could reach above his head, his fingers would be playing with that hair. His mother scolded him wherever he did it in front of the other families of great Houses. ‘Makes you appear anxious,’ she would say, and no son of hers was permitted to come off as anything but respectable in front of their equals. She knew of the man he would one day become. But her nagging didn’t help him in the end.
“Paul, listen to m–”
“QUIET,” he commands in the Voice that seems to ripple through the halls. “You act as if I won that duel without effort. As if I could do it again in my sleep. But not only did he survive what should have killed him, he almost killed me,” he reminds her. “So do not let your hatred for my sister lead us down a vulnerable path.”
You pull your ear away from the door. How strange that you always knew she hated you and yet never heard it from anyone’s lips until now. You can’t say it hurts, but it does affirm that the only thing keeping you alive is the one thing you didn’t want to be: Feyd’s weakness. He’s saving you even though you’re out of reach. You and the baby he put inside of you.
You run your hand over your clothed stomach. There’s no physical evidence of your pregnancy, but now that you know he’s there you can feel him…somehow. You feel his strength. You feel his grit. You feel what Lady Jessica fears, and you love it. You hope she lives in fear for many years, always keeping one eye on the half-Harkonnen child that her son commanded her to spare.
The doorknob twists and you quickly back away as Paul steps into your bedroom. His brows pinch when he sees how you’re standing in the middle of the room. You’re not resting, you’re not admiring the scenery outside your window, there’s no book in your hand—you look suspicious. You can practically hear his thoughts. What were you doing, sister?
“It’s time to go,” he tells you, stepping closer. You don’t have a chance to reply before the command “SLEEP” weaves into your brain. Your eyes close. Your body goes limp into your brother’s arms. Your mind shuts down. You’re gone.
—
It’s bright. The inside of your eyelids are glowing the same orange shade as the flower your father traditionally gifted you on your birthday. It’s brighter than Caladan and Arrakis. A brightness you know only comes from Giedi Prime’s midday sun.
You're moving but not by your own feet. Your eyelids flutter to adjust to your surroundings, and when they open, you find yourself tucked against a chest. An Atreides soldier, once your father’s, now sworn to serve your brother.
“Put me down,” you mumble, but he doesn’t. “Put me down!”
“Put her down if she wants to be put down,” Paul says. “She won’t go anywhere. This is exactly where she wants to be.”
You’re set on your feet, but the soldier’s hand wraps around your bicep as the group comes to a halt. You do a quick glance around. Sixteen soldiers, suitably armed and shields activated. More on the ship likely, ready to attack if necessary. One Bene Gesserit bitch. One intended emperor with the skin of your brother. And you, anxiously awaiting him.
“Atreides!”
Feyd steps out of the Harkonnen fortress alone. He walks down the lengthy walkway alone. He has a blade at his hip, a shield, but no soldiers. You know they are somewhere, though, hiding, waiting for his call if needed.
As the distance between you lessens, tears attempt to blur your vision, but you blink them away. Your legs quiver, and you would collapse to your knees if not for the vice grip on your arm. He’s alive. He’s so beautifully alive. He’s broad, and strong, and he’s stomping toward your brother like a predator honing in on its prey. You didn't know for sure what he would look like after near death, and the last two weeks gave your mind the will to run wild, but he's perfect. Like it never happened.
“Paul, you must reconsider,” Lady Jessica whispers from behind him. “We do not need him.”
“I decide who and what we need,” he says. “My sister, my negotiations.”
She tips her head and steps back into place before shooting you a glare that you refuse to acknowledge.
Feyd is closing in, but his next step is deemed too close for Paul. Weapons are drawn. A blade presses into your neck. Feyd pauses.
“Give me what's mine, Atreides!” he snaps.
He’s seething and makes no attempt to hide it as he paces along the invisible line your brother has drawn. His brow is low, a shadow over the blue eyes piercing through Paul’s head. He hasn’t looked at you, but you know he won’t. Not directly. He already knows what your brother has over him and there’s no need to remind him by giving in to the internal panic he’s fighting.
“Yours?” Paul returns. “She’s not yours yet, Harkonnen, so it would be wise of you to cooperate.”
Feyd practically growls, pale lips splitting to reveal black teeth as Paul gestures for you to stand beside him. The soldier shoves you forward and you turn to smack at his wrist.
“I know how to walk,” you grumble. “Bastard.”
Paul clasps his hands behind his back. “You want her; that is understandable. She wants to be with you, too. You should have seen how she fell apart when she thought you were dead,” your brother taunts. His tongue clicks to make a tsking sound.
Feyd’s fingers twitch at his side, itching to grab the hilt of his knife. You know a layer of red bleeds across his vision. His thoughts are a jumble of demands bouncing around his skull. Kill. Maim. Destroy. Take what’s yours. But he can’t. And, excluding his uncle, Feyd hasn’t ever faced a situation where he can’t do as he pleases with whatever stands in front of him.
“Do not push him too far, Paul,” you mutter in warning. “He's not alone, either.”
Your brother ignores you, voice raising as he says, “And your son? You would like to have him as well, yes?”
The pacing stops. Feyd’s lips softly part. His eyes widen ever so slightly and he finally looks at you. When you lightly nod, his jaw clenches.
Paul doesn’t miss the silent communication. “So,” he says, lifting his chin a half-inch, “are we calm now?”
Feyd inhales a deep breath and huffs it out through his nose. He does it again and again, chest puffing out then deflating like an animal desperate to strike. ‘Calm’ isn't exactly how you would describe him—good, you expect nothing less—but he’s not displaying the same heightened level of fury.
“What do you want, Atreides?” Feyd grunts.
“Loyalty,” Paul doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You are my cousin. You love my half-sister and the two of you will share a child, assuming you can behave yourself. Family should inherently be loyal to family, I believe. That’s a fair place to start.”
“To start?” Feyd spits. “Do not play with me, cousin. Tell me all that you want from me now.”
Paul’s lips curve in a slight smile. The same modest smile he used when greeting guests of your father’s. You have your own version of that smile. They are smiles capable of hiding secrets. Like the smiles you would give Lady Jessica in front of your father, and the smile Paul gave Princess Irulan when he formally claimed her hand days after the duel.
However, there are no secrets behind the smile this time. He knows exactly what he wants from your lover and takes pleasure in revealing the totality of it.
“This war is just beginning,” Paul tells Feyd. “The other Houses reject my leadership. You will not. You will make a public declaration that the Harkonnens will fight for me, alongside the Fremen,” he says. “If you refuse to fulfill this, I will return with every fighter I have. My sister will be our primary target and you will fail to protect her…again.”
The disrespect lingers in the air. To force a Harkonnen to kneel to an Atreides is a power Feyd once told you only you possess. But it appears Paul has forced an unexpected exception.
“There's nothing for you to debate, I imagine,” Paul says. “Not when it comes to the woman you love and your child.”
Paul gives a winning smirk at your lover’s silence—Feyd’s glare is answer enough.
With a hand firmly on the center of your back, your brother guides you forward. “Go on,” he instructs. “There's no reason to keep him waiting.”
You turn your head back to Paul, expecting a trick, but when he nods in encouragement you rush over to Feyd in a light jog so as not to get tangled up in the skirts you can’t wait to tear off your body. A pale hand reaches out for you and curls around your waist when you’re close enough to be pulled against his chest. A kiss lands on your hairline before his forehead falls to rest on yours.
“You're not hurt?” he asks.
“I'm fine,” you promise him.
“This will never have to become complex, Harkonnen,” Paul calls from his side. Your heads raise to look at him. “Your House now fights for mine. If loyalty is upheld, personal lines will not be crossed. In other words, your child and woman are safe from me as long as my empress, concubine, and children are safe from you.”
Feyd’s Adam’s apple bobs harshly with his hard swallow; another practice in tamping down his rage.
“I’m glad we can all walk away from this satisfied,” Paul continues, grinning ear to ear. “Except for my mother, of course. Were she given her way, my sister would be cut open on the floor and her womb ripped out of her. She doesn’t believe a Harkonnen can exercise restraint and respect agreements. I’m sure you’ll prove her wrong.”
Your dress tightens at your waist from Feyd’s fingers fisting into the material. “Keep your head,” you gently whisper. “Let him go.”
“You have three days to officially announce your allegiance,” Paul tells the two of you before turning to his ship. He enters first, followed by his mother who gives you a final look of disapproval, and then, two-by-two, his soldiers. Not until they’re a speck in the sky does Feyd place a hand on your cheek, guide your face to his, and seal his lips to yours.
—
He intends to burn the dress to ash in the built-in incinerator that the Harkonnens consider a fireplace. Before now, you haven’t seen it demonstrate its purpose. Feyd refused. “We do not need that,” he would tell you, somewhat offended when you would request a bit more warmth in the middle of the night while he was next to you. He’d strip himself of any clothing he might’ve been wearing and tuck you into his side. “See? You’re fine now.”
Tonight, however, he’s quick to turn the thing on and let it heat up as he takes his knife to the back of your gown, slicing through the buttons that trace along your spine until the material slips off your body. He helps you out of the ring of destroyed fabric at your feet before wadding it into a ball and tossing it into the flames.
Feyd hums, satisfied, then piece by piece the armor falls from his form until he’s bare with his body to yours, his lips sucking and nibbling, fingers kneading and exploring, cock easing in and out of your core. You cry as he bites into your neck, and soak in the moment for what it is compared to what it could have been had he not survived. How alone you would be. How distraught over what would become of you.
But he did survive. He’s here. You have him. His lips and teeth and touch and cock and heart—all yours. You have the warmth of his breath that brushes your face and neck and shoulders. You have his groans and moans; the perfect sounds he makes when he first enters you and when he cums. Everything you thought you’d lost is wrapped tightly in your arms. Safe. Protected.
He finishes inside of you twice, and as he begs for one more, the ache between your thighs tempts you to remind him he already got you pregnant. But when you study the tenderness in his eyes, your desire refreshes, the pain washes away, and you can’t get enough. You take until he can no longer give—when all he has the energy for is holding and kissing.
Feyd leans over you in the bed, your legs intertwined under the sheets and his hand at the back of your head as his mouth moves with yours.
“W-Wait,” you say between kisses. He hums against your lips and when you tilt your head back, he makes a noise of protest before joining them again. “I-I’m ser-ious.”
With his brow pinched, he pulls back to stare into your eyes. “What’s wrong?”
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you search for a delicate way to question the effectiveness of his new authority. “Feyd, what’s going to happen? What will everyone think?” you ask. “Your people? Your soldiers?”
“That’s what bothers you right now while in this bed with me?” You nod. He sighs. “I observed my uncle in his time as Baron. I’m capable of explaining these changes in a manner that will have them think nothing of it. Should an outlier take issue, they will face the known consequences. The rest will do as I command,” he says, emphasizing his words with another kiss. “Just as they will do as you command and as our son will one day command.”
You shake your head. “Don’t be silly. No one on Giedi Prime will listen to me,” you tell him. “My voice doesn’t mean anything to them.”
“They'll respect the voice of their Baroness.”
Your brows raise. “Your wife?”
Feyd smirks and dips his head into the curve of your neck to lick and suck at sensitive skin. “Do you have objections, my love?”
It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined being Feyd’s wife. It didn’t occupy your every thought, but it crossed your mind. Like when he would pluck out the eyes of the men who leered at you or remove the tongues of those who scoffed when you spoke. Or when you would watch him sleep and his face was unable to maintain the hard, stony stare that he brought back with him after dealing with his uncle. He’d be serene, the epitome of peace, and it was so lovely that sometimes you couldn’t help yourself. You would kiss his puffy lips until he woke to reciprocate, which led to him spreading your legs wide and stuffing his hard column of flesh between your folds. His ability to be gentle in his cruel world was how you knew he would be a good husband—to you, anyway. You have no idea the fate of his marriage were there a different bride.
His tongue runs over the bite mark and you gasp. “N-No.”
Lips trail along your jawline as his hand slides from the base of your neck between the valley of your breasts to settle on your stomach.
“He'll be strong,” Feyd says, looking at you. “Our boy.”
You chuckle. “Stronger than you, I heard.”
Feyd swallows, then nods in acceptance. “Good. He’ll need to be,” he says, thumb stroking just above your navel. “The only Atreides my son will answer to is his mother.”
A/N: i'd be open to doing future fics for them if anyone is interested. you can send in requests if you want, no pressure. I have a different feyd fic in the works atm as well
@unicoreads @haehwasworld @moonsoulk @lothiriel9 @landlockedmermaid77 @vintageroses10 @mamawiggers1980 @mrsjobarnes @aoi-targaryen @buckysteveloki-me @pao-prazz @skel-skell @barnes70stark @pekusofixus @vanilla88 @niragiswhore @benwishaw
#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you#feyd rautha#dune part 2#austin butler#feyd x reader#dune#feyd rautha harkonnen#dune movie
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A bunch of supernatural bullshit invades Wayne Manor. Alfred promptly puts an end to that with a bunch of guns he got from Fentonworks.
Bruce struggled against the ghost, trying and failing to push it away using a chair but it just phased through again. It shrieked in his face and Bruce winced from the screeching sound. “Tim! Any solutions?!”
“Jason’s swords are working on them! But he can only handle a few at a time and they’re avoiding him!” Tim shouted from across the hall. He was pressed back to back with Stephanie, who looked pissed, both of them futilely trying to slap away the ghosts that approached closer and closer.
“Can’t I just have one normal evening?! I just came back from a physiology exam!”
Damian gave a loud battle cry and tried to stab one of the ghosts, but it did nothing, only seeming to irritate the green creature. Jason was successfully killing them, but like Tim said, the ghosts seemed to get the memo and avoid him, which only frustrated him even more.
“Dammit! How are we going to get rid of them?!”
“Duck,” a calm voice with a British accent said, and everyone ducked just as several gunshots rang through the air.
Ghost after ghost were vaporized in an instant, and the ones that were spared shrieked and then ran away hurriedly. Alfred, who was standing atop of the banister, sighed and began to snipe the ghosts that lagged behind. Bruce stared, baffled at the appearance of the strange, bulky looking gun he had never seen before, while his kids all cheered and celebrated loudly.
“Alfred?” He asked. “What’s that?”
“This? Oh, it’s a gift given to me by Fentonworks, who asked me to test out their weaponry and write back suggestions. They told me that it was supposed to hunt down ghosts, but I hadn’t believed them until now. I must write them a letter and tell them how effective it is…” Alfred muttered to himself.
Jason perked up, his swords disappearing and then he ran up the stairs to give Alfred a wide, glowing smile that was brimming with innocence. “Alfie! That looks so cool! Can I give it a go too?”
Alfred looked amused, but he softened at Jason’s eager look.
“Hmm… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have two opinions. If those creatures come back, I shall let you have a turn, Young Master Jason.”
“Thanks, Alfie!” Jason beamed.
Tim coughed behind a fist. “Suck up.” Jason gave him the middle finger from behind his back.
“Jason!” Bruce scolded lightly, but turned to Alfred nervously. “Alfred, how much more of those Fentonworks weapons do you have? Where are you keeping them?”
“I will give you no information about them,” Alfred said in a bored tone, adjusting the gun in a lazy, elegant manner. “You’ll never find them either.”
Bruce sighed as his children all snickered. Drats. Now even more guns were going to be in his manor.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#anon ask#alfred pennyworth#jason todd#stephanie brown#damian wayne#tim drake#ty for the ask!
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christmas blues- n. romanoff
pairing: natasha romanoff x r
summary: while attending a christmas party with natasha, she reveals her feelings towards you
a/n: hi! hope u are all enjoying the holidays if you celebrate! i wrote this last month and wanted to hand it over to you guys! enjoy!
minors do not interact
after natasha got out of a three year long relationship, she was fully convinced that she would never get into another again. she was absolutely heartbroken after maria broke up with her. she promised herself that her career would stay her main priority and wouldn’t entertain a love life again.
the breakup was messy, the whole company knew about it and everyone saw how natasha wanted to hide. she found herself laying in bed past ten in the morning— avoiding all responsibility for months.
natasha often stared at the ceiling at night, replaying the last fight that led to their breakup. maria’s voice would be sharp and cold. even months later, natasha still couldn’t couldn’t get rid of the hollow ache her ex-girlfriend had left. the alarm clock would blare, but she wouldn’t bother to turn it off— what was the point?
that was until you.
you caught her off guard, like a golden-pink sunrise after a harsh long night. somehow you’d brought life back into her eyes, you’d given her purpose again.
the first time natasha had a genuine laugh after maria was because of you. you’d spilled iced coffee all over your white blouse, but instead of getting angry— you made a joke out of it. she laughed hard enough that she snorted, something that surprised the both of you.
she’d forgotten what it felt like to have a genuine smile grace her face.
shortly after that, she found herself constantly in your orbit. not that you had an issue with it.
natasha couldn’t stop glancing at you in meetings, her fingers would graze yours under the table when she knew no one was looking. the way her eyes and voice softened when she spoke to you— natasha romanoff was in love, everyone could see that.
you two have been dating for almost two years now and it seemed like the honeymoon stage was never ending.
sure, you two had your arguments but the idea of either of you being mad at each other for over an hour seemed silly— so every problem was solved as soon as it even happened.
you two had been just colleagues before you two started dating. you’d nursed her back to life after the breakup and somewhere in the midst of all of that, you two became something more than colleagues and way beyond friends.
the fleeting glances in the hallway turned into knowing looks in meetings. the shared lunch break turned into dinner after work. you two had moved past being just colleagues and eventually became girlfriends.
you met her family seven months after you two started officially dating.
you even go out with her younger sister alone, you see her as your own sister now. when there’s a romanoff family event, there’s no doubt about whether or not you’ll be there.
you two were the epitome of lovebirds and everyone either cheered you two on or envied you.
“you and the mrs. coming to the christmas party this weekend?” tony asks as he walks into the kitchen where natasha is brewing a fresh cup of coffee.
looking over her shoulder at him with a slight eye roll at his teasing tone, “yes, tony, my girlfriend and i will be there.”
she lets out a gentle smile at the way that rolls of her tongue. she’s called you her girlfriend numerous times in the past two years but can’t help but feel like a schoolgirl every time. something about having someone to call her own is a feeling she’d never get over.
tony watches her with a glint in his eyes, his teasing demeanor gone and instead filled with pride.
although he can be rough around the edges sometimes, he cares deeply for his friends. beyond the smart quips and teases, he only wants the best for his people.
which is why he was beyond the moon when you two started dating. he’d tried to set natasha up with suitors numerous times before you came along but couldn’t quite get it right.
until you caught her by storm.
leaning against the countertop on the other side of the kitchen, he beams at natasha, “i’m really happy for you, you know that? you’ve come a long way, and i think your girl’s got a reason to do with it.”
natasha smiles at his words, knowing he doesn’t say that stuff often so she takes it to heart.
“thank you, tony. i think so too. after the break up with maria, i thought id give up on the whole dating thing. i’m so glad i didn’t.”
arriving home from work, natasha’s greeted with the smell of dinner and a james bond movie playing in the living room.
you’d always been attentive to natasha and have always known how to take care of her, something she’s always appreciated and voiced. she’d grown up always being perceptive and aware of others, so now that she’s the one being watched and listened to, her heart swells with adoration and affection.
coming up behind you as you cook, she wraps her arms around your waist and leans into you, her chin resting on your shoulder.
“smells amazing, my love. what’re you making?”
you smile and lean back into natasha’s hold, “remember when you took me to italy for my birthday earlier this year and i fell in love with that one plate? i found online and wanted to try it tonight.”
natasha had surprised you with tickets to italy, somewhere she knew you’d always wanted to visit.
before you two started dating, you’d spend a lot of time walking around the park and talking about your bucket list— you only told her about wanting to go to italy once.
natasha smiles and nods, remembering your vacation and how she wished she wasn’t such an over thinker. she would’ve proposed to you then and there at lake como.
as you finish cooking, natasha helps you plate the food and takes it to the kitchen table.
you two eat and talk about how your week has gone and how youre excited for tony’s party.
you’d gone out to buy a new dress, one that’s more on the holiday theme. the dark wine color is one you know natasha loves on you, which is why is hung up behind your bedroom door.
“we don’t have to be there for long. i know after a while it can get rowdy and i don’t know if you’ll be up for that,” natasha says as she brings a fork up to her mouth.
she avoids your gaze as she focuses on cutting her food. odd.
furrowing your brows and shaking your head at her statement, “nonsense, we’ll stay. don’t worry about it, we can just find a quiet place with our friends if anything. we usually do that anyway.”
the afternoon of the party, you two find yourselves in a familiar routine.
while you do your hair, natasha does her makeup. natasha usually asks you to ‘help’ her with her hair even though she really doesn’t need it— she just loves how you look when you’re focused.
especially when it’s her you’re focused on.
“you know, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” natasha says as she puts on her dangling pearl earrings. she’s said something along the lines of not going at least five times since last night’s dinner.
turning to look at her with your eyebrows raised, “do you not want to go? you’ve said that a few times already and it sounds like you don’t want to go.”
natasha looks over at you and sighs softly, “i do, i just wanted to do something today the both of us since christmas falls during the week this week. we could’ve had a personal christmas, you know, just the two of us.”
letting out an exhale of a laugh, you walk over to her as she sits on the bed watching you and place a soft kiss on her cheek.
“we don’t have to stay too long, okay?” you fix her hair so that it’s laying nice in place, “we can just show face.”
natasha nods softly and leans into your hand while you hold her face as you speak to her, “okay.”
you watch her through the mirror as you do your makeup and can see by the small furrow in her brow and the way she keeps fiddling with her watch, something is off with her.
you don’t acknowledge it, but want to get through tonight as quickly as possible to make sure you two can have the rest of the christmas weekend to yourselves.
the room is decorated beautifully in a festive atmosphere. warm christmas lights are all along the ceiling and the christmas tree is adorned with gold ornaments all around. you can even smell gingerbread in the air.
tony went above and beyond this year.
natasha led you in with a hand on your lower back and you can’t help but smile at the contact. she’s felt the need to always have a hand on you in some way. when you two sat down, she would rub your thigh in a soothing matter or would play with your hair as she stood behind you while you sat.
wanda waltzes up through the crowd with champagne in her hand, “you guys made it!”
she hugs you tightly and greets you with a friendly smile, then moving onto greeting natasha, “you guys missed it! tony got sam to sing karaoke and the whole place turned into a concert,” she beams.
the energy of the party sweeps you off your feet and it isn’t long before both you and natasha find yourselves engrossed in conversations with your friends. her hand never leaves the small of your back, it comforts both you and her. you and wanda share stories about your previous holiday traditions and natasha lets out a soft chuckle, warming the space between you two.
natasha apologizes to tony as you finally get to him almost an hour after you first walk in, “sorry we’re seeing you so late. we would’ve been here earlier if someone would’ve been ready sooner.” she subtly gestures to you with a tilt of her head,
you give natasha a playful glare as she says this, “i see how it is.”
natasha gives your waist a light squeeze, a gesture to show she’s joking with you. her green eyes dripping in adoration as she leans in closer to you, her voice dropping just enough for only you to hear it, “you look stunning, my love. always worth the wait.”
a blush creeps up your neck and you roll your eyes playfully, and tony laughs just before he’s pulled off into host duties.
the two of you walk around the party, exchanging pleasantries with colleagues and joking around with friends. sharing a drink, you two clink your champagne glasses in celebration, “to another stark christmas and to surviving the never ending hors d’oeuvres.”
the night is perfect and you find yourself feeling at home with natasha. you love the company— that the party has died down so now it’s just you two and your closest friends at the end of the night.
you all sit at the coffee table, nursing cups of coffee and sharing pastries that tony had hidden just to bring out for this time of the night. you’re leaned into natasha, her thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles against your thigh as she rests her hand on your leg.
you all are playing a friendly game of truth or dare and it was finally natasha’s turn.
she was dared by wanda to dance with you in front of everyone. simple.
“that’s your dare? easy,” natasha stands up and reaches out for your hand with a smile on her face, “milady.”
you giggle softly, shaking your head in disbelief and letting her pull you up, “you’re so corny.”
“but you love me,” natasha replies, matter-of-factly. she places a hand on your waist and holds your other in the air. your checks hurt from smiling widely and laughing all night.
natasha spins you around dramatically as you laugh heartily. she whispers softly in your ear that she loves you— you blush so noticeably that the group begins to whistle and cheer.
you two sit back on your side of the couch as the rest of the group continues, your head resting on natasha’s shoulder.
tony is in the middle of doing his dare when the elevator doors open up to a late guest. somehow, the door opening leads to the air feeling a bit tense. is it only you feeling that way?
“is that maria?” wanda whispers, it falling from her lips so quickly that she didn’t have the chance to hold it in before it came out.
natasha’s smile falters just a small amount before her face goes to a neutral expression in record timing. the hand that was just on your thigh a second ago is nowhere near your body, and she’s subtly moved in a way that made you pull your face away from her shoulder.
it’s like her warm and loving demeanor switched off in an instant, but then she catches your eye and gives you a half smile— is that guilt you see in her eyes?
before you can even ask her if she’s okay, you’re interrupted.
“sorry i’m late, i had to finish some last minute paperwork but i didn’t want to not show up at all.”
maria walks in commanding attention and respect. she doesn’t consciously do it, it’s just how she is— always has been. it’s not like you hated her, she never gave you a reason to.
she and natasha haven’t made eye contact, but you can feel natasha’s body go rigid right next to you, like shes expecting something to happen. the shift in natasha’s energy is unmistakable, one that leaves you uneasy as you sit next to her.
your heart sinks slowly as you realize that maria’s presence has dampened your girlfriend’s mood and part of you is worried about it. your heart sinks heavily, your body now feels ten times heavier.
the room didn’t go quiet, but natasha did. the hand that was always on you was now fiddling with her necklace, a tell you knew all too well. she was trying to anchor herself back down to earth.
maria finds a seat opposite on the couch, away from you and your girlfriend. you can see how natasha is averting her eyes from that area of the room and keeping her hands away from you.
you exchange worried glances with wanda who’s next to you, silently asking her what happened. wanda gives you a solemn look that you can’t quite place.
you sigh softly and try to place your hand in top of natasha’s, but just as you get close enough, she moves her hand away from you. it was so subtle that it couldve been mistaken as an honest mistake, but you know better.
you try to hide your frown as you look down, the stray piece of lint on your dress now looking a lot more interesting all of a sudden. you steady your breathing as much as possible, your emotions now getting close to boiling over.
the game continues and it’s finally natasha’s turn, she chooses truth.
clint smirks softly as he brings the beer bottle up to his lips, taking a swig before asking, “okay, let’s make this interesting. do you see yourself getting married?”
clint loves the two of you, matter of fact— everyone in the room has constantly rooted for the two of you. it took you two a while before you even officially started dating, so now that you two are together, the team loves how you bring the best in natasha.
the group laughs a little, almost like they already know natasha will, without hesitation, say that she does— with you.
natasha’s silence silences the group and you can see maria smirking subtly through the corner of your eye.
does she have something to do with why natasha’s hesitating to answer the question?
i mean, you and nat have both spoken about marriage in the past. she told you she couldn’t wait to get married and build a house an hour away from the city with you. why is she silent?
the group is now uncomfortably quiet at natasha’s red face and her lack of eye contact with anyone.
you glance over at nat, your heart heavy at the lack of response, apprehensive about her answer.
after a beat, natasha clears her throat and fiddles with the beer bottle cap in her fingers, “marriage? i.. i don’t know about that. maybe if i find the right person in the future.”
maybe if i find the right person?
your heart drops and you swear you could fall over any second. you try to mask your hurt by looking down at the ground. natasha had always reassured you about her feelings and intentions towards you. what happened?
“that’s understandable,” maria hums softly, her tone light, “you don’t want to vow your life to someone you don’t see a forever with.”
tony turns the attention away from the two of you quickly and finds another game to play, one that won’t lead to the potential demise of a relationship.
even though truth or dare is now over, you can feel some of your friends casting glances over in your direction to make sure you’re okay. you try to focus your attention on the jenga game that’s going on, but all you can think about is how natasha said she doesn’t see marriage with you.
is it because maria’s here?
you try to convince yourself maybe she’s having an off day, or maybe she’s just tired and wants to leave. after all, she didn’t want to come to the party in the first place.
the party slowly calms down and everyone is talking amongst themselves, but you find yourself growing quieter as the night progresses. natasha’s words echo in your head as you try to distract yourself by paying attention to whatever it is tony is talking about animatedly from across the couch.
natasha’s arm rests on the back of the couch, and you notice that ever since maria entered, she hasn’t reached for you.
maria is across the room talking to steve and sam about a past mission she went on and you can’t help but watch her. it’s not that you’re mad at her— why would you be? she didn’t force natasha to say what she said. you hate that you’re watching her every move now— especially because you can see that natasha is glancing in her direction every few minutes. it’s subtle and quick, but you notice it.
you get up and walk to the bar across the room. your girlfriend doesn’t follow.
you try your best to steady yourself as you make a quick drink. you watch from the other side, alone, as you see natasha talking to the group and laughing with them like nothing happened. you can see her gaze lands on maria for a few seconds longer than you were comfortable with.
you sigh softly and rub your temples as you try to bring yourself back to earth. maybe you’re overthinking and natasha will talk about it later with you at home.
the drive home is eerily quiet. you stare out the window and press your fingernails into your palms, an old habit that’s resurfacing. one that natasha helped you break at the beginning of your relationship.
“you’ve been quiet,” natasha says softly, almost hesitantly. maybe she knows what’s next. she’s treading with caution.
“i’m just tired”
“right,” natasha says as she pulls into the driveway and parks the car, “tired.”
you hold in a breath and exit the car, not even waiting to see if natasha will open the door for you. you know she won’t.
you try to gather the courage to say something as the two of you walk in and hang up your coats. you can feel your stomach heavy, your limbs feel like they could fall off at any second— you could break down at any second.
“what a par-“
“we need to talk”
you two speak at the same time and natasha immediately grimaces. it’s like she was hoping you’d forget what happened.
natasha tries to act busy as she takes off her shoes, her voice low, “about what?”
you scoff, “about what? natasha, you basically said you don’t see a future with me. we’ve talked about marriage before, about how it was what we both wanted— with each other..” you trail off, your voice wavers, but you press on. “is this temporary?”
natasha exhales harshly, making your heart drop, “that’s not what i meant by it.”
“really? because we seemed on the same page, but tonight when maria walked in, all of a sudden it was like our relationship didn’t exist.” you were letting your emotions out, no longer holding back your hurt.
natasha rubs her face and you look at her eyes. you see guilt and remorse, something that you rarely see with her— you feel sick.
exhaling sharply and looking at you with a guilt ridden expression, “she was my first serious relationship, the one i thought i would marry. after we broke up, i convinced myself i would never do that again— she broke me.”
you furrow your eyebrows and cross your arms, expression sharp, “and what does she have to do with me?”
“everything! she has everything to do with this!” natasha exclaims, her voice cracking, “when maria walked in, i realized i can’t give you the future you deserve. i can’t do it! i have so much baggage and you-“ her voice softens, “you don’t deserve to be with someone who’s going to throw that on you.”
you stand there, the weight of her words suffocating you, “so you’re going to push me away because you’re afraid?”
natasha looks at you with tears in her eyes and you can’t help but want to reach out to her, comfort her.
but this isn’t the natasha you fell in love with.
“i don’t know how to fix this,” she says, taking a few steps away from you, like she’s afraid for be near you.
you take a steadying breath and close your eyes, something about tonight has a sense of finality— one you didn’t ask for but can’t avoid, “natasha, i love you— so much, but i can’t be with someone and see a future with them when all they’re doing is looking over their shoulder at their past. it’s unfair to me.”
natasha’s lip quivers so subtly that if you didn’t know her so well, you’d have missed it, “are you leaving me?”
she places a hand on her chest, rubbing her collarbone in an nervous habit you can’t help but recognize. you can see how this is hurting her, but you know it’s unfair to continue being with someone who became unsure in such a short amount of time.
“i don’t want to, nat, but i think the fact that you saw maria for just an hour and this happened.. it means you need to figure out what you really want. seeing her one time shouldn’t have led you to being unsure.”
natasha watches you with tears in her eyes, fiddling with the ring on her finger. she nods softly, she knows it’s unfair to you how she switched up in such a short amount of time.
“i love you,” she tries to sound confident, but you can hear how defeated she sounds.
you smile sadly and place a gentle hand on her cheek, “you need to prove that to yourself, natasha. figure out what you want, without maria lingering in the back of your mind. it’s not good for you, us. maybe we can try again in the future when it’s past you.”
you pull your hand away reluctantly, the loss of her warmth hitting you immediately. natasha doesn’t stop you, not even as you pack your bags and leave.
#noe writes#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x r#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff#christmas blues#natasha romanov#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n
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Jason “my family doesn’t know im alive” Todd and Danny “my family doesn’t know I’m dead” Fenton going alongside each of their plans my beloved. like Danny will absolutely go head-to-head with all of Gotham to support his new best friend on all his crime lord endeavors while he drags Jason to also attend collage with him. They are roommates and there never seems to a mention of family from either side. It’s an unspoken understanding they have. They met because Crime alley as a ghost lair thrummed with so much loneliness, it was at first the perfect place for Danny to hide his ecto signature in. But then he saw the dumbass whose lair it was lean his motorcycle just a tad too much when making a sharp turn to an alley, he sweeped the floor through a lifted chain link that passed his body but not his helmet. Yep that’s right the red thing got stuck. Danny who at the moment happened to be watching through his window snorted. Much to his horror because if not a ghost that dude could’ve gotten his head flung off.
Still, the scene was ridiculous.
On a whim he irrationally sees the police closing in on the guy and panicked at the thought of the guy using intangibility to free himself so Danny phased them both through his apartment wall and left the guy sprawled in his couch. Jason didn’t freak out but that’s normal when one’s got a concussion, one the guy immediately denied having as Danny laid out the medical supplies. The idiot proceeded to almost flatten four steps to the door with his stubbornness. He also said “I’m asexual” in the most deadpan voice as Danny dropped him back in the couch.
Danny sighed. Clearly though, he’d done so too early in the night because the guy kept trying to go, kept trying to knock Danny out, kept trying to slash him with knifes Danny didn’t know he had stashed. He’d only disarmed the guy from his guns. The visible ones apparently, cause at one point the guy did take out a gun and shoot until the ammo ran out and then teetered the thing like it was an art prop and hit his moon lamp.
Danny "yeah you aren’t officially my friend until you’ve tried to kill me" fenton my guys.
Anyways both keep having the same argument over if Danny technically kidnapped Jason or not. Danny holds the fact that the police at least didn’t see the guy make the ridicule. Jason argued that happened cause he was sporting a concussion. Danny argued he got that after.
Jason at first thinks the guy's a meta, but no. Danny introduces himself, sheepily now that he recognizes this is who the lair he invaded is from. He bandages him and tries to cook for him. If Danny didn’t have ice powers he most certainly would’ve burned the apartment. Jason then proceeds to kick him out of his own kitchen and make them both enchiladas. It’s the most normal both had in a while with another person and the air seems oddly settled. From then on, Jason constantly invited himself over, under the pretense that this was his territory and therefore he could drop in unannounced. Danny who has actual powers says he only allows this because Jason cooks very well.
Danny stays away from the crime fighting business unless his buddy is in deep shit he can’t get himself out. Also it’s Danny’s turn to cover for his vigilante friend which Sam and Tucker give him so much shit for. (but also advice)
And they were roommates. (omg) Danny effectively derails Jason’s big comeback plans by casually dropping ghost lore every two days. Like,
Jason, talking about how he doesn’t want Bats snooping on his territory:
Danny: Just don’t let them in
Jason: ??
Danny: yeah!! Hasn’t Batman died and got revived??? You can totally kick out death touched people you don’t want entering on your lair.
Jason: …I can?
Danny: Yep dude, your lair’s supposed to feel safe.
Jason: wait does that mean I can kick you out?
Danny: First this is my apartment. Second, im dead, not dead touched. Third, it’s too late to get rid of me. bitch.
Anyways Jason is super excited. You mean to tell him he can actually deny people over to his territory haunt?? (Yes it’s only to people who have died and came back but still!! The sample size is exactly the type of people he doesn’t want to see—!)
Joker my beloathed can’t step foot in Crime Alley.
(Jason’d feel a lot safer if the clown was dead but the possibility of his murderer turning into a ghost and their little loophole not applying on the clown is too scary to contemplate.)
Anyways, Jason loves experimenting with the power. It can go from simply making people shudder and not want to enter crime Alley to straight up not letting them enter like there’s an invisible wall blocking the way.
Jason because he’s hurt that Bruce never even patrols Crime Alley and also because he’s petty put B under the category of “invisible wall” blacklist. His reasoning is that the man doesn’t even attempt to enter Crime Alley. To him it’s surely just a place shadowed in tragedy. (anyways that’s it’s the place he met Jason)
Ironically, Jason totally forgets that Batman does venture into Crime Alley one day in the whole year. The day he met Jason.
Okay. He didn’t forget at first. The first year Jason remembers cause it was only a few months till then but then the next— Jason forgets that today’s the anniversary of the day’s Bruce’s parents died. He forgets to allow B in when he feels a slight tug and dismiss the feeling that prompts Bruce to investigate because he literally can’t enter Crime Alley. He starts the trialsTM, he scouts on the very edge and sees people the whole day enter and get out and cross with no problem but Bruce can’t.
It’s literally just Bruce.
Time to call Constantine, i guess.
#bat shenanigans ensue#JSJSJS okay so i dont have a well versed timeline of events but two years after utrh who HASNT died of the batfam#cause those are the ones who are gonna go undercover to find what shady shit is this: )#im going with timmy cass and duke#sorry steph i KNOW you have died#the others have plausible deniability from my part#the trio is gonna come down hard on this unsuspecting pair#let's just say constantine just had one spare magical rune for each of them so they'll be able to identify who was powerful enough to do it#and duke found civvie jason. cass found civvie danny and tim also found jason a la squared. in his red hood get up later that night#the only useful photos are from tim's side but anyways since they got three suspects (one suspected to be the other. so really-- two)#they decide to split each other up and tag one each (whoever doesn't get the correct guy loses)#tim calls dibs on the twink. cass rolls her eyes and narrows her eyes at the red hood and duke smirks when he gets to keep his guy#he's not cheating if he didn't protest to getting to have the guy he already saw the aura of. he's sure he is IT#coincidentally duke happens to be the only bat jason doesn't recognize (and vice versa)#meanwhile cass is gonna be the one shadowing red hood which at this point he doesn't kill that much since he has his rules verymuch enforce#he does kill tho#so at some point they're gonna clash but at the start of the investigation no#let them be siblings your honor#big sis cass and her little brother 6'4 jay#and tim finally is gonna be the one to smoothly get himself in the conversation with cryptid roommate civilian danny fenton#genius dumbasses protection club#their first meeting is of course arranged but no less meet cute coffee shop au#anyways jason wants to know why the fuck hes got a bat tagging along with him so out of the blue and also why can't he fucking chase her of#cass is curious about how the red hood's mood constantly changes within her range yet he never attacks her despite his hurt-longing-anger#the boy who doesn't make noise fucking screeches when she sneaks up to him#and duke fucking brings his hands to block the chernobyl reject glow stick sun that's stands next to tim#while tim looks like his whole system is rebooting cause that's jason todd#dp x dc#danny phantom#jason todd
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mdni. req by anon: pleaseeeeeee more innocent Jungwon with a dom Heeseung or Jake that gets jealous and ruins everything for him..like imagine Jungwon is finally going to lose his virginity to Y/N and Heeseung/Jake finds them in the act then decides to make him sit and watch how to do it correctly..
wc: 1.4k
tags: virginity loss, jungwon is jake's brother and jake is ur ex bf, reader is a whore we love her, voyeurism, exhibitionism
It’s not that he’s doing it wrong, it’s just that he doesn’t have the confidence to own the way he moves his body.
Jungwon, your favorite person in the world. Your ex boyfriend’s brother, who you simply couldn’t leave behind after the break up. Yeah, probably not an ideal situation you’re in right now but it’s still a situation that feels right.
Sure, hanging out at your ex boyfriend’s house was weird at first but all three of you just kind of got used to it after Jake realized there’s no getting rid of you for as long as he lives there with his brother. Exhausting? Yes. Annoying? So fucking annoying.
It’s not that Jake minds you being around. After all, he’s not the one who wanted to break up. You broke up with him. Imagine how he felt just four days after the break up, walking into his house and seeing you lounging on the couch as if he was still allowed to pounce on you. He couldn’t do that, of course. For one, because you’re not his girlfriend anymore, and secondly, because his bitch-ass little brother was always crowded up next to you on the couch.
You guys weren’t that close he originally thought. At least throughout your relationship with him, Jungwon was never clinging to you like this. So, really, Jake doesn’t mind being able to still see you. What he minds is the fact that you’re here to see his little brother, and it’s a bit…
Well…
It doesn’t sit very well with him when it comes to the way you now interact. Like, really? You’re gonna break up with him over some shitty excuse of “we just aren’t on the same path in life” only to run and cling to his little brother? As if Jungwon knows what path he’s on either? Hell, the guy only just chose his major after a full semester at your college.
Exhausting. That’s what the two of you are. And Jake tries his fucking hardest to not witness you when you’re over.
That is, until it becomes far too difficult. Until that pit in his stomach bubbles up with envy so draining that he can’t help but barge into the room.
“Like this?” Jake had heard his brother’s broken voice through the door that he should not have been listening through.
Hearing Jungwon sound like that isn’t exactly new. After all, he always sounds embarrassing when a girl is around. Jake really would have just rolled his eyes and went back to his room if it weren’t for what he heard next.
“Does it feel good when I do this?” Jake heard this time, Jungwon’s voice coming out in more of a breathy moan.
“Yeah, so good–” You responded with your own moan.
“Ah–it’s so warm–”
And for a split second, Jake wondered if maybe you guys were doing massages or something. Trying to make sense of why the fuck you’re in there moaning alongside his brother. Surely you’re not fucking him. Jungwon is a virgin as far as Jake’s concerned and…if he’s really about to lose it to you, that’s beyond crossing a boundary.
Both of you should know better.
So, naturally, Jake doesn’t even knock.
The door swings open with the force of a thousand suns as Jake stands there and connects the dots. Nope, no massages. Yep, that’s your legs spread around his brother. Oh, yeah. Okay. Wow.
Jungwon is no longer a virgin it seems, considering his cock is clearly nestled inside of you. All the way. He saw the jerky movements of his hips just before the two of you snapped your heads to him. He saw the way you cling to Jungwon harder.
And the three of you just stare at each other, you frozen with your piercing gaze on Jake, Jungwon’s cock plunged into you as deep as he can go, with little pants because he can still feel you clenching around him and he’s really, really trying not to moan right now.
“Are you fucking joking?” Jake finally lets out, furrowing his brows and zeroing in on Jungwon. “You decided to lose it to her of all people?”
There’s silence for a long while as Jungwon tries not to moan out an answer, feeling both awkward and entirely aroused because you’re still so wet, you’re still holding onto him, you’re still clenching.
“And you’re not even making her feel good?!” Jake continues as his gaze falls to you.
It’s not that you look bored, or even that you were bored. It’s just, Jake knows how you are in bed. He knows you very well, and seeing you be more in control, guiding someone else is definitely not something he thought you were into. In fact, no matter how many times the two of you would fuck, you always acted like a fucking virgin. Like his cock hurt you every single time, like you couldn’t help but moan. You couldn’t help but babble incoherently. You couldn’t help but orgasm within the first five minutes.
It’s the fact that he never saw this side of you, and you’re giving it to his fucking brother while taking something away from him.
“Jake–” You manage to get out, so turned on beyond belief that you barely recognize how awful you look in this situation. Then again, you’re no longer dating Jake. It’s not like you cling to Jungwon because you want him instead.
Jungwon is just…really cute and needy. Jungwon just needs some love. Jungwon was just nervous about this girl he’s supposed to meet this weekend and wanted to get some experience in.
Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for Jungwon, Jake could probably give less of a shit as to why you’re in here letting Jungwon fumble between your legs. If you’re gonna fuck anyone in this house, it’s gonna be him. You guys can fucking go outside otherwise.
“Move.” Jake says, now making his way toward the bed and practically shoving Jungwon out of you.
There’s a wet sound when he does that, Jungwon letting out both a pornographic and frustrated moan when he falls back. Jake spares no glance at him though, all he does is shove him further, all the way until he topples off of the bed.
You don’t really care whose hands are on you though. While you wanted to be this person for Jungwon and while you feel bad that he barely got to even start, you really, really don’t mind the familiar grasp of Jake. With the way he puts his hands on your knees and spreads your legs wide.
You blink up at him, seeing Jungwon peek at you from the edge of the bed as he keeps himself on the floor. Probably both intimated and embarrassed at what’s happening.
“I can’t believe you.” Jake announces now, leaning his face in between your legs and inspecting how stretched Jungwon managed to get you. “I can’t believe you got this wet for him.”
You roll your eyes, clenching hard just so Jake can see that you’re still just as needy as you’ve always been.
Jake sees it and squeezes his eyes shut with a frustrated sigh. Of course you’d do this. Of course you still want him, sexually, at least. And then he snaps around to look at Jungwon.
“If you ever try to fuck her again, at least make it count.”
Jungwon looks away and avoids eye contact. He knows Jake is pissed, not that he cares or anything. It’s not like he’s not allowed to be pissed off too. Jake really just walked into the room thirty seconds after he officially lost his virginity. Of course he’s not gonna be good at fucking yet.
And Just as Jake turns back to you, whipping his cock out and sliding his fingers down the length of it to stiffen up, Jungwon tries to get up and leave quietly.
No, no, no.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jake asks through a seething breath, sliding into you with ease and a slight moan. “You’re going to sit right there and watch.”
Jungwon doesn’t know why he listens, but he does. He finds himself right back on the floor. His hands that were covering his cock slowly begin to palm when he keeps his eyes on you and the way you moan out for your ex boyfriend.
He’s not happy right now, but you. You turn him on. He wishes so much that it isn’t Jake here doing this, that’s his brother, after all. Still, he watches. And somehow, he learns.
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The birthday gift
A Halsin x reader fanfiction | Explicit, 18+ | 7k words A/N: Okay since the Halsin brainrot has had its hold on me for ages, I started this fic on my birthday in december, not expecting to ever finish it because I have literally never finished anything I've started writing before- until now. I got inspired to write this by this post (for the birthday part, the smut part is my own horny imagination) and well, this is the final product. Since it's my first time publishing any of my writing and writing smut at all, please be kind with me XD Summary: Your companions prepare a surprise birthday party for you, Halsin sees you in your new dress, you two dancing leads to him confessing his feelings for you and a very happy ending... CW: halsin x f!reader, virgin reader, halsin eating pussy, fingering, p in v sex, breeding, rough sex i guess, halsin being the man he is, all that stuff idk what to write here really
I hope you enjoy it, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3
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You and your companions had finally reached Baldur’s Gate. It’s still morning when you enter Rivington that day and the streets are busy with all kinds of people, many seemingly refugees from Elturel and farther away, here to find shelter in the city. As you continue down the road to the village in front of the city gates, you are stopped by a little red-headed girl.
“Erm. ‘Scuse me, I can’t find my mum.” She looks worn out and as if she has recently been crying.
“Where did you last see her?” you ask as you bend down to her, smiling to show you want to help.
“She went to go get some herbs - for her spots” she gestures towards her face. “She was sick. And she was supposed to come back the same day.” She pauses before adding, “That was last tenday though.”
“Let’s go find a guard. They’ll be able to help you”, you propose.
The girl shakes her head. “Guards blow like petards. They don’t help us.”
Your heart sinks at these words. It seems all these people were here because the city wouldn’t take them in. And the guards are no help either, apparently. You wonder what happened to your city, where once everyone was welcome.
Halsin sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. “This city is a poor place to be in need of help. Even the guards can’t be trusted to protect the most vulnerable.”
You silently agree and think of how you could help that girl. You decide to spare a few coins, so she can buy herself some food.
“I don’t know where your mum is, but here - take a few coins”, you offer her, not able to tell her that her mother is most likely dead. Halsin smiles at you warmly as you shoot him a quick glance, the sight making your heart skip a beat.
“Oh - erm. Thank you so much! I don’t have anything and you can’t do anything without any coin”, the little girl exclaims, bobbing on her toes and suddenly looking a little less tired. “I’ll pay you back. When I find my mum.” She turns around and bolts. “No need, it’s a gift!” you call after her but she has already vanished in the crowd.
You finally arrive at Wyrm’s Rock Crossing in the evening, after you had snuck past one of the new city guards - the so-called Steel Watch - and promised to investigate the murder of the local Ilmater priest. Another incident that seems to fuel the hate towards the refugees.
And that isn’t even all. The city is closed, even for you as a Baldurian, and to get in you’d need an Admission Pass - or wings. You sigh. You just want to get into the city, rent a room in the Elfsong and think about what to do next, now that the Absolute’s army must soon be upon the city.
It’s all too much and too little time. And you can’t just turn away from the people you met in Rivington either, they need help just as much as you need to find out how to beat the Absolute’s Chosen and get rid of the tadpoles.
When you make your way around camp that evening, checking up on your companions, Halsin notices your exhaustion, the way you slump your shoulders and how your usually impeccable stance falters. He wants to relieve you of at least a bit of the tension, so when you walk over to him, he offers you a massage. The things he wants to say to you can wait until tomorrow.
“Thank you, Halsin”, you accept, his hands turning you around and gently pushing you down to sit on your knees before him. You sigh as his broad hands knead the tension from your back and by the time he is finished, you feel like a sleepy, boneless lump of flesh, muscles completely relaxed. You thank Halsin again before you retire to your bedroll, the hopeful thought that the offer might’ve been more than Halsin’s usual kindness crossing your mind before you drift off to sleep.
The next evening, you were finally inside the city walls. You consider the new information of the day. How you got your hands on an invitation to the celebration at Wyrm’s rock fortress, your disbelief to see that it was Lord Gortash’s coronation as Arch Duke, how he made the tadpoled Duke Ravengard give up his power and how Bane’s Chosen then proposed an alliance against Orin, the shapeshifter that had already approached you in Rivington. You had agreed to kill her, but you definitely wouldn’t leave Gortash his Netherstone. But that is a problem for another day. You had managed to get a room in the Elfsong Tavern and as usual you make your way through it to hear what your companions think of all that had happened today. Most approve of your decision. Halsin is the last person you speak to and as always, he has just the right words to ease your worries. For now, at least.
“Wait-”, he grabs your arm before you can leave. “I didn’t thank you yet.” His large hand is warm and makes your skin tingle where it touches you.
“Thank me? For what?” He chuckles at your puzzled look. “For all that you did in Rivington yesterday. You have so many worries and yet you still go out of your way to help those in need. The way you made that little girl smile, or how you didn’t hesitate to investigate what happened to that Ilmater priest.” A blush creeps up your cheeks as he continues. “I’m afraid Nature’s balance can never be restored in a city like this, but seeing what you do every day without expecting anything in return gives me hope. And for that I thank you.” You smile up at him, lost for words with your heart beating fast.
“I appreciate you saying this. I wish I could to more, to help everyone, but if I can at least do a little good, it’s worth the exhaustion at the end of the day”, you eventually admit with a smile. Halsin grins. “You’re too modest. I wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are.” Your cheeks blush an even deeper red at those words and only when you retire to bed for the evening does your heart resume its normal pace again. But the warm feeling Halsin’s presence gave you remained for the night.
After you had the first proper breakfast since your crash with the Nautiloid, you feel ready to explore the city and find out how to best deal with all your problems. You hadn’t particularly missed the bustle and noise of your old home, but you can’t help feeling safer now that you were in familiar surroundings again.
Gale proposed to go to Sorcerous Sundries, both to find out more about the Elderbrain’s crown and to see what the wizard there wants with your companion Nightsong. Since you don’t have an idea where to find Orin yet, you figure that this is as good as any other thing you could be doing.
The way from Elfsong to the magic shop isn’t far and you still have some time before it opens, so you decide to stop by the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette to update yourself on any news you had missed in your absence and struggle with the Absolute.
Scanning the title page, you notice the date in the corner and your brows shoot up in surprise. Noticing this, Gale asks if you found anything important in the newspaper.
“No, it’s just that I realised today is my birthday and I've completely forgotten about it. That means we have been on the road for more than two months already”, you wonder aloud before you add, “It doesn’t feel that long.”
“Well, then we have to celebrate of course!” Gale exclaims happily. You smile at his enthusiasm but shake your head. “We have bigger problems for now. Let’s see what this Lorroakan wants with Dame Aylin and then get on with our business. Besides,” you shrug, “we didn’t celebrate birthdays in my monastery anyways so I won’t miss anything.”
“If you say so,” Gale replies and you turn your attention back towards the page you were studying before.
You had already forgotten about the conversation as you come into your chamber in the Elfsong, grateful for the few minutes alone during the bath you had taken and the respite for your tired body.
But the moment you enter the room, Karlach and Shadowheart drag you to a set dinner table, laden with the most delicious food you could imagine. There aren’t your ordinary fish heads and the mouldy bread you usually have to call supper, instead delicious smelling pork roasts, pies, glazed carrots and potatoes, deep red apples and more pile atop the table, all lovingly placed around a huge flower bouquet in the middle of it.
You are so overwhelmed by the amount of work your friends must’ve put into this, that you can only stutter a ‘thank you’ before Karlach announces, “Happy birthday soldier! Halsin, Gale and Shadowheart here told us that today is your birthday and you never had a proper party before, so we decided to prepare you a little something!” With a grin she gestures from the table to one of the unoccupied beds, where a few packages are placed.
“You brought me presents too? You really didn’t have to!” you exclaim in surprise. You are so touched that your friends -among all the trouble- still found time to prepare the presents and this party for you that you feel tears well up in your eyes.
“Darling, no need to cry,” Astarion laughs as he pushes you onto your designated chair. “This is a party and not a funeral! Go ahead and enjoy yourself, it’s your special day after all!”
With a sniff and a small chuckle at Astarion’s words you sit down properly. He is right, of course, and you all clearly enjoy having a small break from the worries you faced at the moment.
Smiling hesitantly, you grab some meat and vegetables and start to eat - it really is delicious. You revel in the laughter and conversations with your friends, your weariness from todays fight forgotten for the moment.
When all of you can’t possibly eat any more, Karlach drags you over to the bed with the presents. You can tell she is excited to see if you like the few things your companions managed to get you in the time they had for preparing, so you start unpacking.
The first present contains a book on the monastery you were raised in, with a handwritten note from Gale:
“I’m sure you already know most information this book has to offer, but I thought it might still bring you comfort and remind you of home.” You thank him with a tight hug and carefully place the book into your bag.
The next package is a bottle of the finest liquor of the Elfsong Tavern, plus a sparkler for every one of your companions which Karlach sets of immediately.
Laughing at her shenanigans, you reach for the last and biggest present. It is wrapped in red paper and decorated with a little white bow. You wonder where your companions had managed to find all those things while you carefully pull the paper open. Soon a dress falls out of the packaging and you gaze at it in awe. Your fingers trace the deep forest green fabric, intricate silver and gold patterns weaved into it.
“This is beautiful, thank you, truly!” you say earnestly. You still can’t quite believe that all this should be for you. “I thought you would like it”, smiles Shadowheart. “And I’m certain it will suit you beautifully. Go now - try it on!” she urges you.
You walk to the bathroom which still smells of the quince-scented soap you had used for your bath a few hours before. While changing, you bask in that warm feeling in your chest these moments among your friends always grant you. Whatever problems you had encountered, in your opinion they have all been worth it just for the people you found and let into your heart along the way. As cheesy as that sounds.
You regard yourself in the mirror. The dress is cut low and close-fitting, capturing your cleavage in a very flattering way. Maybe too flattering, if you think about it too much. This isn’t something you’d usually wear, but you have to admit that you like the way the dress looks on you. A bit insecure you go back into your room, where you are greeted with approving cheers and whistles from your friends.
“You look absolutely stunning”, Shadowheart admires. “I knew it would look good on you! Turn around please”, she commands. You do what you are told, with red cheeks at the compliment.
When you face Shadowheart again, you notice Halsin gazing at you with pure admiration - and something else you can’t quite place. You think you notice a golden shimmer in his eyes, but that could be a trick of the light considering all the candles in the room.
“I must admit, your neck looks very tempting in that dress but I know someone who is a lot hungrier for you than me right now”, Astarion remarks with a wicked grin and a sideward glance. You frown at him, though you can’t help your heart skipping a beat at these words. Could he possibly mean Halsin?
“Now, what would a party be without some music and dance?” Wyll interrupts your thoughts and as if these words have summoned her, the bard the party had met in the druid grove appears in the doorway.
“Alfira!” you exclaim happily and immediately rush over to hug her. “I’m so glad you got to Baldur’s Gate alright!”
Alfira grins at you. “Yes, thanks to you and your friends here. When they reached out to me today and told me it was your birthday, I just had to come! Wyll organised everything.” You nod to him in thanks. “Now, I don’t have anything to give you but just tell me what you want to hear and I will play it for you!”
“Thanks, Alfira, that’s more than enough for me”, you beam and lead her into the room towards your group. “Wyll, now is your chance to show me your dancing!” You say as you take his hand and pull him into the middle of the room, then you grab Karlach and Gale and start to move to the tune Alfira started to play. Karlach swirls you around and Wyll shows you the dance moves from court, which -to be honest- remind you a bit of the mating dances you had seen with a few bird species.
Out of breath from all the dancing and laughing, you request a slower tune from the tiefling bard. You manage to persuade Shadowheart to put away her wine for a moment and start to waltz around the room with her. She is quite the good dancer and you wonder where she had learned it, with her being raised in a Sharran temple and everything.
At the next tune, you approach Halsin. With your head light from the wine, you have finally gathered the courage to ask him for what you have secretly thought about the whole time.
Still, you can feel your heart beating in your throat. “Erm…Halsin, w-would you honour me with a dance?” you eventually manage to mumble out shyly.
“Of course, little flower. Whatever your heart desires.” That particular heart skips a beat at his intimate tone. “Although you might wish you hadn’t asked me that once you’ve seen my dancing”, he adds with a chuckle as he takes your hand.
He leads you into the room and starts to swirl you around to the melody of Alfira’s lute. He definitely isn’t as graceful as Shadowheart but certainly not as bad as he has made it sound. But even if he’d had the dancing skills of a bugbear, you wouldn’t have noticed. His large and warm hand around your waist and the smile with which he regards you sends your pulse through the ceiling. His smell of pine and honey and fresh air intoxicates you and it is hard to keep your feet from getting tangled in your dress.
When he leans down to you, you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. “Before you go and mingle again, I still have a present for you. I wasn’t sure if you would even like it”, he admits, “but I have decided to give it to you anyways.” When the tune ends, he leads you to the space in your room where his bed stands and bends down to search his pack.
You think about how long it took you to realise how attracted you are to the druid as you admire his strong back before you. Of course, you have noticed his kindness and compassion and you have always marvelled at the way he drew strength from nature. But only since you had some kind of break these last days have you begun to understand the depth of your affection for the man before you. It runs deeper than mere friendship and the echo of his hands on your back have awoken a hunger inside you that only grows stronger the more you look at Halsin. How desperately you hope that he feels the same way about you…
When he stands up to turn around, you quickly brush away the thought that has sent the heat into your cheeks again.
“You’re the only one who knows of my secret passion”, he begins jokingly, “so I thought you might accept this as my present for your special day.” He hands you a small whittled duck he has apparently made in the hours you were away from camp. You can’t help but tear up at the thought of how much effort he has put into all the details he has carved. There are even small webbed feet on the underside of the little duck.
“Thank you Halsin, this is an amazing gift!” You smile down at the little duck. “You are amazing”, you add quietly.
“With all that you have done for me, I should be the one thanking you night and day.” As you look into his eyes again you see that his gaze is now very solemn. “There was another reason for wanting to speak to you privately. I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now.” Your heart flutters in recognition of his words, the confession sending sparks across your skin.
“I want more than to fight at your side, or to sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine.” Halsin’s gaze on you is intense, filling your chest with a burning heat that slowly spreads lower into your belly, as if the wine you have been drinking suddenly caught on fire inside of you.
Halsin continues, “I think you feel the same way - but tell me I’m wrong and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more.”
You stare at him for a moment before you realise that he waits for your answer.
“Y-you’re not wrong, far from it”, you whisper. “I would like that very much.” You smile up at him and he takes your hand in his.
“May I kiss you?” he breathes out, relieved. You nod and he bends down to gently press his lips on yours.
His hand slides up your arm and to your back while he places his other behind your head, gently pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.
You feel his tongue prodding at your lips, demanding entrance and you happily oblige. The feeling of his soft lips on yours sends you spiralling and you can’t stifle the small moan that escapes you. Halsin sends out a silent prayer to Silvanus - if that is all it takes to make you moan, what sounds do you make when he finally gets to taste you? Groaning, his hand on your back slowly wanders lower, a silent question of permission in his eyes. You press your body against his as an answer, feeling the heat radiating off his chest … and lower.
Halsins hand grips your ass firmly, making you gasp, the other joining in and hoisting you up on his hips, turning you both around and pressing your back to the wall. You cannot stop the surprised squeak that escapes your lips at the sudden movement and Halsin presses his mouth on yours to stifle it.
The feeling of the growing bulge in his pants between your legs and the low moan Halsin utters before kissing you even more vigorously sends a shiver down your spine, pressure starting to build between your thighs.
In a desperate attempt to pull him closer, your hands grip Halsin’s hair, arms, everything you can reach. But before you can lose yourself in him, Halsin releases your lips, panting, and rests his forehead against yours.
“I would very much like to continue”, he whispers, his breathing ragged and voice hoarse with desire, “but the others will expect us back and I think you would probably like a bit more privacy.” He sighs and softly kisses your hair. “I will come to your bed when the party has ended, little flower. But don’t expect much sleep”, he adds with a wicked grin. You can only nod as he gently props you back on your feet.
With your head spinning, you get back to the others, averting your eyes from the knowing smirks of Astarion and Shadowheart noticing your ruffled hair and flushed cheeks. You ignore them, trying to engage in some more conversation and one or two dances while the thought of what awaits you won’t leave your head.
When the last of the party finally bids you goodnight, you hurry to bed, awaiting Halsin. You can’t get away from the echoes of his hands on your body, heart already racing again and warmth blooming in your belly. Even if he hadn’t promised you he’d come tonight, you would’ve been unable to sleep.
A soft rustle next to your ear startles you from your thoughts and as you turn your head, you could make out Halsin’s large figure in the dark, crouching beside your bed.
He cuts you off from what you wanted to say by placing a finger on your mouth, his other hand sliding under your back and pulling you into an upright position. With your heart beating into your throat, you take the hand Halsin offers as he gently beckons you to follow him into the corridor outside of the room the party shares, then further into a small but cosy bedroom on the next floor.
The door closes with a click and before you can say anything, Halsin sweeps you up into his arms, pressing you flat against the door and capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like it burns you from the inside.
Halsin’s fresh, earthy scent floods your senses as your tongues intertwine and your hands find their way into his hair, tugging at his braids. You whine when Halsin lets go of your lips, only to gasp as he starts nibbling and placing searing kisses on your jaw while his hands squeeze your ass firmly, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.
You moan at the growing ache between your thighs but plant your small fists against his shoulders anyway, gently pushing him away a bit. Halsin’s eyes, pupils wide and dark with desire, find yours.
“What is it my heart?” he asks, voice hoarse. “Do you want me to stop?” You see no disappointment in his gaze, only worry and your heart swells at how selfless your lover is. You avert your eyes, suddenly embarrassed to tell what troubles you.
“I- I j-just wanted t-to say that … um … well, I- I have never been with someone before”, you mumble eventually, averting your gaze as you blush furiously.
“Silvanus, preserve me”, Halsin groans out before almost dropping you and stumbling backwards, trying to steady himself on the small desk opposite the bed. With wide eyes you regard what is happening before you. Halsin drops to his knees, a deep animalistic growl coming from his lips as his eyes fill with golden light and he transforms into his huge bear form.
You gasp and nearly trip over your feet in an attempt to make room for the bear before you, but the animal fills almost the entire chamber. After finally regaining his composure, Halsin manages to change back into his elf form, with a snarl and a ragged breath coming from his lips.
“Forgive me. I- lost the run of myself.” He shakes his head in disgust at his outbreak, terrified that he has ruined this precious moment with you before it could properly begin, and slowly gets back to his feet. “Sometimes, when blood runs hot enough, it’s difficult to tame the beast. And the thought of you trusting me enough to share your first time with me … well, you saw what happened”, he smiles tentatively, slowly approaching you again with hesitation in his eyes.
“Don’t apologise”, you assure him with a shy smile. “I like it.” If possible, you blush even harder now. “Maybe for another time…?” you add, fidgeting nervously with the front of your dress.
A relieved grin spreads over Halsin’s face. “You like it..?”, he chuckles. “You are full of surprises, little flower.” As he steps forward, he bends down to gently plant a kiss on your cheek, only to proceed to bite at your earlobe which elicits a delicious moan from you.
“I’m glad you think so, but now you’ve made it even harder for me not to outright devour you”, his low voice whispers in your ear. “Nevertheless, I will be gentle. Or at least I’ll try to be.” You swallow hard, arousal sending shivers down your spine.
Halsin’s arms wrap around your waist again as he kisses your jaw, your forehead and nose, until eventually his lips find yours again, his tongue ravaging you like a man starving. His hands, this time directly shoving under your dress, firmly grip your thighs. He ruts against you, growling, his now rock-hard cock pressing against the confinements of his clothing.
His fingers trail higher up, kneading your ass, then stroking the soft skin of your back before slowly wandering even higher. His touch sends jolts through your body and you can feel the heat between your legs, already nearly too much to bear.
His eyes hold an unspoken question and when you nod, Halsin lifts your dress off and brings his mouth down on one of your breasts, the hand that’s not on your back now gently kneading the other, massaging the hardened nipple between his fingers. You mewl at the sensation, impossibly more pressure building between your thighs. Halsin gently bites down at your breast, only to run his tongue over it afterwards to soothe the mark he made. You moan and arch your back, desperately trying to press closer against Halsin’s still overly clothed erection, wanting to feel everything of him.
He growls and his mouth begins to place kisses down your front, between your breasts, on the soft flesh of your belly until he is on his knees before you, his warm breath fanning over you and flooding you with heat.
“More?” he asks, his pupils blown wide with lust, as his thumbs brush the soft skin between your legs. “Please”, you whine, knees almost too weak to stand and your underwear already embarrassingly soaked.
Halsin wastes no time, pressing kisses on the insides of your thighs, his one hand holding you in place and his other slowly -too slowly- sliding your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare and dripping with need before him almost makes him lose control again, makes him want to take you, devour you, fuck you, mark you and then fill you to the brim with his cum but with a groan he wills himself to calm down and be gentle with you. He won’t hurt you. He won’t.
He exhales deeply, lifting one of your legs up and slowly swiping his tongue through your wet folds, which earns him a choked gasp. His nose nudges your clit as his tongue starts stroking, slowly at first, then faster and with more pressure. You can’t help the way each expert swipe of his tongue makes your hips buck into his mouth as countless moans and sighs fall out of your mouth. Halsin growls in response, the vibrations around your sensitive bud making your legs shake. You can barely keep up and the coil in your belly is tightening ever faster with Halsin’s mouth sucking your clit and his tongue inside you.
“You are sweeter than honey, my heart”, he groans as his tongue presses flat against you. “Let me taste you as you come undone on my tongue.” With your mind clouded with lust, all you can do is moan out Halsin’s name and press yourself further against your lover’s mouth.
He understands anyway, now slowly dragging a thick finger through your dripping folds until he stops, teasingly pressing against your entrance. You whine, begging him to fill you, to do anything to release the overwhelming pressure between your thighs. When he finally thrusts into you, you can’t stifle the cry of pleasure that escapes your mouth. With Halsin’s finger now working your cunt open, his mouth continues its ministrations, licking and sucking your clit, soaking your legs with your slick.
With a wicked grin, Halsin inserts a second finger into your quivering hole, pushing inside over and over again, holding you firmly in place as you try to writhe away from the intense pleasure. His fingers coil upwards in response, hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars.
“Please Halsin…”, you beg, toes curling and legs shaking, “I’m close- I- Oh!“
Moaning into your cunt, Halsin picks up his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue swipes over your clit again and again, bringing you closer to your end.
One more thrust with his fingers and a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive bud between your legs is all it needs to send you spiralling over the edge. “Ha- Halsin!” you cry out, hips jerking violently and fingers digging into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you with the force of a lightning bolt. He moans at the sensations of your walls contracting around his fingers, the urge to take you and feel you squeeze his cock with your needy cunt almost overwhelming him.
You whine when he pulls his fingers out and stands up, bringing you in for a passionate kiss as you still struggle to regain your breath. Tasting yourself on Halsin’s tongue pulls a small moan from you and an embarrassed heat creeps up your back at the thought of how aroused you already are again.
With a smile, Halsin pulls away. “You are amazing, little flower”, he whispers breathlessly as he picks you up and gently places you on the bed, admiring your flushed body.
If Halsin’s tongue hadn’t just turned your mind to goo, you might have been able to return that compliment, but alas-
“May I go further?” Halsin asks and when you nod he swiftly discards of his clothes, you licking your lips at the sight of the elf naked before you. Your eyes take in his form, from his muscled arms down to the soft curve of his belly and- oh gods. Your eyes widen. You didn’t think he would be that big and the thought of him filling you makes you gulp down a mixture of fear and arousal.
Attentive as always, Halsin notices your insecurity and bends down to press gentle kisses against your ear. “We don’t have to do this, my heart…”, he whispers while he rubs soothing circles into your hips. He looks at you, his expression earnest. You bite your lip, thinking for a moment before answering. “N-no, I want this”, you assure him, your voice still weak but pleading now. The way you look so sweet with your little fangs on your lips makes Halsin feral and he kisses you again, desperate and more passionate this time. He groans into the kiss as he gently spreads your legs for him, lining up his tip with your dripping slit and sliding through your soft folds before stopping just at your entrance. The sensation of his hard length so close to entering you is enough to make your head fall back, eyes squeezed shut. “If it’s getting too much, tell me and I will stop immediately”, he whispers soothingly. “Now relax for me, little flower.”
All thoughts leave your head as Halsin slides in, agonizingly slow. The stretch would be painful if your lover hadn’t prepared you so thoroughly beforehand, but now you only feel pure bliss. Raising your head, you can see that he isn’t even halfway in but gods, you feel so full already that you can’t stifle the choked gasp that escapes your throat.
“You’re doing so well, my heart. Just a little bit more- mngh-!“ Halsin’s growl sends jolts through your spine as he finally bottoms out. You can see just how much effort it takes him to hold back by the way his jaw tenses and his chest is heaving.
“By Silvanus, you’re so tight-!“ A shiver crawls down his back, carrying a wave of soft golden light with it, as Halsin’s eyes light up with his magic for a moment. The thought of how you are able to bring your lover to the precipice of losing control is extremely flattering and you feel yourself clenching around Halsin’s cock, making him grunt in response. Finally somewhat accustoming to his size, you arch your back into the mattress below you. The new angle makes you moan in pleasure as you grip the sheets for support.
“Are you still feeling good, little flower?”, Halsin asks as he slides a hand from your hip under your back to support you. You can only form one thought. “More- please Halsin!” you whine desperately. You don’t have to ask twice, with a low growl he slides out - just to knock the breath out of you with his first, hard thrust. He sets a steady pace, one that leaves you moaning and gasping out his name. Halsin takes your small hands into his, pressing them into the bed beside you to pin you down, pushing into you deep and slow while he places bites and kisses on your throat and chest that will surely leave marks come morning.
Gods, Halsin thought. The sight of your small body sprawled beneath him, split apart by his thick cock while he fucks into you relentlessly is driving him insane. He is growling with every thrust now and each one of them makes you cry out in pleasure. It doesn’t take long until he has you on the precipice of release again, your cunt fluttering around Halsin’s length.
“H- halsin- please! I’m so close!” you can only beg, not sure if you can take much more, your body feeling like it might explode. “Come for me, my heart”, Halsin demands in a gravelly voice before pressing a thumb to your clit, rubbing and massaging until his name leaves your lips in a hoarse cry as your orgasm hits you with full force. Your hips jerk upwards, walls clenching around Halsin as you notice the tears from the overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face. He continues to pound into you, prolonging your release and muttering praises for you under his breath.
Through the fog in your mind you wonder how Halsin still has the energy to keep going, his pace unwavering while you are completely spent, gladly accepting whatever your lover has to give you as long as you’re not required to move.
So, you do not see it coming when Halsin suddenly pulls out of you, the unexpected emptiness making you whine in displeasure, only for him to flip you over and press your chest into the soft bedding while he gently raises your hips.
“I know it’s a lot right now but I need you to cum for me one more time, my heart”, Halsin huffs with a strained voice, pushing inside you once more and grabbing a fistful of your hair to keep you in place. The new position lets him slide even deeper than before and you can’t help the strangled cry that leaves you when Halsin starts pounding into you again, hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll back with blinding pleasure.
“’s too much- please-!” you sob, your poor overstimulated clit still trying to recover from the last orgasm. But Halsin doesn’t relent and you can feel sharp pricks on your hips where his hand grips you, fingers partially wild-shaped into claws and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Seeing just how feral you drive him makes your hole clench around his shaft, the squeeze causing his hips to stutter as a grunt leaves his lips. “Silvanus preserve me”, Halsin pants as he fucks into you even faster, “if you keep squeezing me like that I will not be able to stop myself from claiming you completely, from making you mine and filling you up with my seed.”
You whimper at the image of Halsin pumping his cum into you, fucking it deep into your womb until he is sure that it has taken hold. You cannot pretend you haven’t thought about it before, the idea usually sending an embarrassed heat into your cheeks, but now - gods, now you needed it.
Completely breathless you moan, “Halsin I- ah-! please-! Fill me with your cubs!” These words were the last needed for Halsin to lose himself completely in you, driving himself into you with punishing strokes that cause you to arch yourself into him while moans and whispered curses fall from both your lips. The coil in your stomach is so tight again and when Halsin takes the hand from your hip to softly press on your lower belly you see stars. Your walls clench around Halsin’s cock and you feel him twitch inside you, a sign that he too is close to release. All it takes to send you over the edge is his finger pressed against your clit, your body shaking violently beneath him, toes curling, while waves of ecstasy course through you and you cry out his name.
With a last snap of his hips and a low moan, Halsin comes as well, twitching cock releasing hot spurts of cum inside your still fluttering walls. He continues to pump into you until the aftershocks of your shared orgasm have subsided, before he slowly pulls out. You collapse onto the mattress, exhaustion settling over your overstimulated body.
Halsin gets onto the bed with you, gently gathering you up in his arms and placing your head against his broad chest. “You’ve done so well for me, little flower”, he whispers into your ear, placing soft kisses on your face before he looks your body up and down. One of his hands comes up to stroke a strand of hair away from your damp forehead and to gently lift your chin in order to look you in the eyes. You note worry in his gaze, his brows furrowed in remorse when he plants a feather light kiss on your lips.
“I’ve hurt you”, he states. “I’m so sorry, my heart. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”
You smile up at him and cuddle deeper into his arms before you shake your head. “Don’t apologise. I loved every second of it. There is no birthday present in this world that can ever match this”, you confess with a shy grin. “Although I have to admit I’m a little sore. You sure did your best to make sure I’m unable to walk tomorrow.”
Halsin chuckles. “I can help with that”, he answers with a sly smile, his free hand sliding down your body to stroke through your soft folds, muttering an incantation under his breath. As the familiar glow of the healing spell engulfs his fingers, you feel a rush of warmth where he touches you. A moan escapes your lips before you could stop it, eliciting a mischievous smirk from your lover as you hide your face against his chest in embarrassment.
“I’d be happy to go again, my love, but I think you need some rest first. Besides, we still have an Elderbrain to kill, so we’ll need our strength tomorrow.” You nod at that, the tiredness in your bones leaving you unable to object, even if you had wanted to. But you know he is right, so when Halsin wraps a blanket around you to carry you to the bathroom, you just relax into his chest, the sound of his steady breathing soothing you.
When the bathtub is filled with warm water, you are already half asleep, barely registering that Halsin is gently cleaning you up, rinsing the sweat from your hair and body and rubbing salve over the bite marks and the bruises on your hips once you are dry again.
You can hear the soft snores and deep breathing from your companions when Halsin brings you back into the room you share, all of them already fast asleep. Absentmindedly you wonder how long you and Halsin have been away, but the thought is gone as soon as Halsin places you on your bed.
“Goodnight, my little flower. Sleep well.” He gives you a kiss and turns to leave. You manage to grab his hand before he does, stopping him in his tracks.
“Stay with me tonight?” you mumble sleepily. Halsin smiles, warmth and adoration filling his chest as he carefully climbs next to you, the bedframe creaking slightly with his additional weight, and wraps his arms around your smaller figure. The thought of how your companions might react in the morning seeing you two in one bed briefly crosses your mind, but Halsin’s steady breathing and the soft pulse of his heart against your back soon drown out anything else as you drift to sleep in his warm embrace.
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Part 2 is here now!
#bg3#halsin#baldur's gate 3#bg3 halsin#baldurs gate 3#halsin silverbough#halsin bg3#halsin x reader#halsin x tav#halsin smut#halsin fluff#bg3 smut#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#bg3 fanfic
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love, H
18+ mdni.
pairing: stalker!heeseung x fem!reader
warnings: stalking, yandere elements (i hate saying that), heeseung's a freak, noncon/dubcon, knife play, fear play & chase kink ig.
wc: 2.2k
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It’s cold. Freezing cold. The night air has you clutching to your arms in an attempt to heat yourself up, but the breeze hitting you in the face, flowing through your hair and into the collar of your coat, makes it impossible to feel any type of warmth.
You should have brought a scarf, you knew you should have right when you stepped foot outside this morning, but you didn’t. And now you’re sure you’re going to freeze to death before reaching your front door.
But at the sight of someone in particular, your heartbeat quickens in seconds, pumping blood so rapidly you feel it pounding against your chest. You don’t feel cold anymore.
A man you can’t name, but who has been following you and watching you for weeks — probably months at this point. You look back at him, halting your steps, his body standing a few feet away from you just outside your workplace like he’s been waiting for you for a while.
You don’t see his eyes, don’t see his face — never did you, and you might not discover it very soon either — a black hoodie draped over his head as it is often the case.
He gets away from the wall he was leaning on when you walk away in the direction of your house. You check a few times behind your shoulder, seeing him following you closely in such a casual manner it reminds you how often you experienced this exact same situation before with the exact same person. Your faceless stalker.
You live a few blocks away, and turning corner after corner, noticing he hasn’t disappeared, you start to really freak out. He usually doesn’t follow you until there, you’ve always supposed he was too scared in case he could get spotted by your neighbours, but this fear doesn’t seem to stop him at this moment.
You fasten the pace of your steps, quicker and quicker until you’re actually running, the only sounds you hear being your boots hitting the pavement and the rapid breaths you take, accompanied, of course, by his own footsteps chasing after you.
Your eyes well up in tears as you tighten your hold around the straps of your shoulder bag, taking a look behind you and being horrified to see his dark silhouette still behind you, determined and eager to catch you. You let out a sob, one that rips up through your throat, heartbeat now pounding in your skull, making your ears ring loudly.
You’re breathless, scared and desperate, a spark of hope lighting in you at the view of your house. You’re almost there, come on. Your stomach hurts as well as the soles of your feet, but you keep going, running because your life depends on it. He’s never expressed the want to kill you, but he’s expressed many other things that made the hair on your arms rise up, and thinking back to it, you don’t want to discover what’s going to happen if he gets his hands on you.
The letters he leaves you… they all ended up in the trash, until one day where he threatened in his letter to enter your house during your sleep if you got rid of this one, too. They’re now stacked up in the last drawer of your vanity, still in their original envelope.
You could recite each one of them and exactly what they’re talking about. The subject always the same, but told in a different way; you. Only you.
You find yourself rereading them sometimes, usually when a new one comes in. He leaves them in your mailbox, but it happens you fall upon one on your nightstand coming back from work, or, the weirdest, in your underwear drawer, exactly in the spot where one of your panties is missing.
He’s not subtle about it, he admits it pretty buntly, in fact. He tells you which pair he took exactly, the last one he described as the ‘cute baby pink panties with a white heart pattern and small bow on the front’ and he also says what he does with it, a part that always leaves you in shock and weirdly turned on.
He tells you when he gets inside your house, what he touches, what he likes, what he keeps. His words are kind and surprisingly caring, but when you do something he doesn’t appreciate, like throwing his letters in the trash for example, his tone changes completely. This double side of him is what scares you the most because you truly never know the extent of what he’s capable of.
He talks about his fantasies, whether they’re explicit or not, you don’t know what to expect when opening his letters. He admits his desire to have you, possess you, his carnal need to make love to you as he so calls it, but anything he describes is the opposite of making love.
You think he doesn’t really know the difference between love and obsession, but you’d be fooled with how skilled he is with words. Everything sounds poetic, when in reality, the meaning of his words are far from beautiful. They’re deranged and don’t make sense either. You can’t pretend to love someone you say you’d chop in little pieces if they throw away your unsolicited love letters.
He always signs with H, that’s pretty much all you know of him, and you don’t even know if his name really begins with the letter H. You don’t know if he’s someone from your daily life or a stranger you’ve never met. You know nothing, but he knows everything, every little detail of your intimacy…
He’s aware of that power he has over you. He could have had you way back before, but he didn’t. He wants you to be familiar with him, wants to make its way into your life without even revealing himself. He wants you to know you’re eventually going to be his and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Like tonight, there’s nothing you can do to stop him.
He has the way to your house, he can get inside whenever he wants. If he decides to catch you tonight, he will, and with the chasing that’s happening right now, you think the time has come. You’ll be his, finally.
But you’ll have to give up on running before he even touches you.
You cross your front yard, clumsily climbing up the stairs to the entrance door. You slip your hand into your pocket and pull out your keys, hurriedly trying to insert it into the lock. You know he’s behind, you hear him, and you think you’ve never been so frightened in your life before.
You turn the key and then the handle, pushing your door open and immediately getting inside. You only realize how close he was to getting you when closing the door, he startles you by rushing into it, seeing his body watching through the transparent glass.
You lock it, shaking in fear, but relieved that you made it in. He hits the glass with his hand out of frustration, visibly upset. His head is down, so you can’t decipher any of his features, but knowing he’s angry is enough to make you scared, recalling the words he uses when he’s annoyed with your behaviour.
‘If you ever escape me, I’ll make sure you never use your legs ever again,’ followed by your name and then ‘love, H’, ending the letter.
You never knew what that meant, but now you think you do.
He stays behind your door for a minute or so, both looking back at each other, without you being able to see his eyes.
He steps away and you watch him leave, wondering where he’s going. Your senses are all enlightened, a million thoughts going through your head at the same time. You walk into your kitchen, grabbing a knife, feeling a tad bit safer now armed.
But there’s still this little voice in the back of your mind telling you the knife is useless, he’ll get you unarmed in a matter of seconds. You can lock yourself up in a room, he’ll still find a way in because he always does.
And unconsciously, you make yourself an easy prey. You like it, you anticipate it. Why did you never call the police? Why haven’t you changed the locks on your doors?
Why in the hell are you turned on to know he touches himself with your stolen panties?
From the corner of your eye, you get the glimpse of a shadow. You instantly turn around, pointing your knife in front of you, but there’s nobody in the kitchen beside you.
You walk out, looking on each side of you, being on your guard. Your face turns pale, noticing the back door half open. You gulp down.
He’s inside. Your stalker, he’ll kill you. He will tonight in your own house.
“Oh, sweetie…”
Your heart skips a beat.
You turn around again, losing all of the strength you had earlier to fight him. You step back until you hit the sliding door behind you, feeling the cold glass through your clothes. You clasp your hand tightly around the handle of the kitchen knife, but you look much more ridiculous than intimidating.
“My poor little girl, all frightened and helpless,” he chuckles, and you find back the light-hearted tone he uses in his letters. It sends shivers down your spine, your pussy throbing.
He walks toward you and you point the knife at him, “don’t get any closer!” you sob out, wanting to sound serious, but your voice breaks pathetically at the end. More tears fall down your cheeks, the previous ones now dried out on your burning skin.
You can see a smirk drawn on beautiful heart-shaped lips, and your mouth opens in shock when he pulls his hoodie off his head.
Your arm holding your knife is trembling, your eyes staring at his face. You’ve spent night after night imagining what he could look like, feeling so powerless thinking that you might never know who he is, but he’s just revealed himself to you now. And it’s nothing you ever expected to see.
He’s beautiful.
“What do you think you’re going to do with that thing?” he asks mockingly, referring to the knife that you no longer hold properly, letting your emotions get the best out of you. He approaches you despite your warning — that was nothing other than laughable. “Stab me, maybe? I know you could never.”
You watch him taking control of you in no time with tearful eyes. He takes the knife out of your grip, and the way he easily uses it against you is humiliating.
He swiftly puts the tip of the blade under your chin, forcing your head up. “I admire your tenacity, my love. I really do,” he tells you, and his voice is soft, almost too gentle. “But I thought I was clear on that; you’re mine. You can’t run away from me.”
You try to hold back your cries, keeping your mouth closed and looking away from his face, but the tears still roll down your cheeks, drawing a wet trail from your eyes to your jaw.
“Look at me,” he suddenly growls, pressing the blade harder under your chin, but not enough to cut you. You reluctantly do what he said, your eyes meeting his. “There you go,” he coos, “I know you dreamt of this exact moment. You’re a little freak who likes the attention of deranged guys like me. You’re no secret to me, baby.”
Your bottom lip trembles, no words coming out of you. What possibly can you say? You’re not stupid enough to think you can change his mind.
And maybe a part of you really waited for this moment to happen. For him to catch you.
You gasp when he tears through the front of your shirt with the knife, tilting your head downward to see your chest exposed, goosebumps all over your skin.
“So pretty. I always wanted to see them from up close,” he moans, dragging the knife between your naked breasts, going over your heaving stomach down to the band of your leggings. He lowers them with his other hand, pushing them all the way down to your ankles.
He tears through your panties as well, leaving you with nothing covering your private parts and you can’t feel more embarrassed.
The blade of the knife stays just under your belly button as his eyes stare at your uncovered pussy, wetting his lips with his tongue. He’s in love, to say the least.
“Fuck that shit.” He throws the knife away on the floor and with both hands free, he unzips his pants and takes his hard cock out.
He aligns his leaking tip with your entrance, feeling how wet you already are.
“N-No, don’t, please!” You cry out, holding his shoulders, but doing no attempt in pushing him away.
Just as he pushes himself into you, he glances up at your face, looking totally blissed out. His mouth hungs open, staring back into your eyes as he thrusts up all in the way in, making you moan out in pain.
“Stop lying to yourself, baby,” he groans, “we both know you love it.”
#i finally did it#praise the gods#tw noncon#tw stalking#— ☆ starring enhypen#w/ heeseung !#enhypen x reader#enhypen smut#heeseung x reader#heeseung smut#enha x reader
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