#but i need to lock down a better look for him. it's like. hm. close. but not quite there

[gingerbreadmonsters]

oyster eater

or: ask, and you shall receive.

gn!reader, brief and casual descriptions of blood, injury, and corpses, but really it’s just ooey-gooey vampire family fluff. there was a star danced, and under that was i born. inspired by there’s nothing too good for my baby (alt version here). william eating more than just his words in 9200 words or less.

the record alexis is listening to is the supremes a’ go-go, which came out in august 1966 and was the first album by an all-female group to reach number one on the american billboard 200. hm, i wonder who might have been around back then to buy a first pressing of that album…? vincent, on the other hand, is listening to danger days: the true lives of the fabulous killjoys, because he’s a diehard pop-punk truther and we all know it.

if you’ve read glass jaw then you know the drill, but if not: longtime readers may be aware of my sinophone!solaires hc, so ENGLISH SPEAKING READERS – please have a look at this pronunciation guide i made! it’s not too long, and i PROMISE it’ll help <3

It’s Wednesday, which means the Solaire house is busy, as usual.

The housekeepers have been in since early this morning, which woke all three of them up – he could swear he’d barely fallen asleep before the intercom started to buzz, quiet to a human but painfully loud to vampire ears. Blearily, he’d reached for the control pad on the bedside table that opens the driveway gate, clumsily pushing his long hair out of his face and dragging himself out of bed to get dressed so he could go and let them in.

It’s not worth letting them use the keypad lock. He’s tried before, but it just makes him paranoid, if he’s honest – something doesn’t feel quite right about allowing other people to come into the house whenever they like. Who knows what they might get up to, or who they might tell the code to? Better to just wake up early, and deal with the inconvenience later.

He’s not entirely convinced he’d had all the buttons of his shirt in the right buttonholes, but by the time they’d driven up to the house, he’d just had enough time to run a hand through his hair and throw his housecoat on over his shirt and trousers before opening the door. Nobody seemed to notice, so no harm done, hopefully.

The children hadn’t come down for breakfast straight away, but they’d definitely been awake. He’d heard Vincent groaning into his pillow at the sound of the doorbell, and he’d felt the phantom sting of Alexis falling out of bed all down his left side when the vacuum cleaner suddenly came on in the study. Even though their bedrooms are upstairs on the other side of the house, he’d still been able to hear the pair of them fussing about how cold it was, so he’d adjusted the temperature up a few degrees from the thermostat in the kitchen.

Ordinarily, he’d feel a little bad about waking them up – housekeeping normally comes just after noon, so it doesn’t interfere as much with the nocturnal hours – but he did tell both of them yesterday that the maid would be coming early today, so it’s hardly his fault they didn’t go to bed early enough.

Yawning, he adjusts the heat on the hob and reaches into the cabinet for some bowls. It’ll still be a little while before he needs them, but he’ll get them out now so they’re ready.

Actually, he may as well just set the table now. He keeps the bowls by the hob, but lays out the placemats and spoons on the kitchen island, along with some coasters to keep the surface clean. The kettle starts to rattle on the stand, nearly boiled, so he takes the tea cups out of the cupboard and starts to make the tea – perhaps it’s just his age, but he can’t stand tea that’s too hot. If he makes it now, it should have cooled down enough by the time everything else is ready.

The blinds are closed against the weak winter’s sunlight outside, and it’s bright and warm here in the kitchen. The smell of jasmine is light and pleasant as he breathes in, mixing with the sweetness of the ginger he’s already chopped, and he closes his eyes as he leans against the counter.

The maids are cleaning in the living room next door, quietly enough that he can still hear Alexis and Vincent moving around upstairs. One of them must be brushing their teeth, if the sound is anything to go by, and there’s the soft sound of slippered feet walking back and forth across soft carpet. Someone in the walk-in wardrobe, perhaps?

Eventually, the soft ping! of the hob timer going off shakes him from his daydreaming, and he hurries over to check on the pan. It looks good, so he reaches over to get a spoon from one of the tablemats, and tastes a little just to make sure that the texture is right. Satisfied, he adds the ginger, the spring onions, the stock, and a little bit of salt.

Perhaps just one more taste, only to check – yes, that’s just right. Now, to fetch the decanters from the fridge…

“À table!”

He calls up to the children, knowing they won’t be long, and pulls open the fridge door. The tray is cold in his hands as he slides it off the shelf, carrying it over to the kitchen island and setting it down in the middle of the three table settings. His is on the short end, facing away from the door, while the other two are along the long edge to his right.

Ah, the tea must have cooled down by now. As he walks over to the counter to get the teapot, he can hear the soft slap of slippers on hardwood, slow footsteps coming down the stairs, and he smiles to himself as his son peeks sleepily around the doorframe.

“Good morning, xiaozhi.”

“Zao a,” Vincent mumbles, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand as he sits down at the kitchen island in his pyjamas. “Tired.”

“I can see,” William replies, and puts a cup of tea down in front of him. “Too tired even to hold the hairbrush, ah?”

He laughs as Vincent sticks his tongue out at him, dark hair sticking up in all sorts of strange directions, not even bothering to try and disguise his truly spectacular bedhead. “Eat, and you will feel better.”

Alexis comes around the corner just as Vincent picks up his spoon, bundled up in her fluffy yellow dressing gown, eyes narrowed against the bright lights overhead. She ignores Vincent entirely as he tries to trip her up with his foot when she walks past, instead choosing to unceremoniously walk straight into her father, pressing her face against his chest and immediately leaning all her weight on him.

“Lili, still asleep?”

She grumbles wordlessly into the lapel of his housecoat, letting him wrap one warm arm around her as his other hand holds his tea cup. The Maker’s bond between them thrums contentedly with her closeness, the two of them fitting perfectly together as they always do.

The tea is a good temperature now, hot but not painfully so, and he takes a sip before leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “You should eat before it gets cold, mon ange.”

“Mmnh.”

Slowly, Alexis manages to tear herself away and goes over to sit next to Vincent, drooping over the bowl in front of her. He nudges her with his elbow, and without looking she knocks the side of her foot lightly against his ankle. William, watching them, brings his bowl over and sits down next to Vincent as Alexis picks up the decanter of O positive in the middle of the table, and pours a hearty splash of blood into her jook.

“Your appointment is at nine o’clock, yes?”

“Mm-hmm,” she replies through a yawn, stirring around and around until the pale cream colour of her breakfast has completely disappeared, dyed a vibrant, appetising crimson instead. “Said the silk’s from a different supplier, so it’s thicker than usual. Means they want an extra muslin fitting, and then it’ll be done by next week.”

William nods, and waits for her to put the decanter down before taking it himself. “When you finish, then we can go out.”

There’s a lot they’ve got to get through today, and all three of them are quite tired, so breakfast is a mostly silent affair. The soft click of the windows being opened in the study is faintly audible over the low drone of the vacuum cleaner out in the foyer, accompanied by the faint sound of a spray bottle. For the console table by the door, perhaps?

Although there’s nothing much happening this week, the calendar for next week is packed. He and Vincent have dinner at the House of Baz on Monday, then all day on Tuesday the children are up at SkySide to meet a prospective client while he finishes up the buyout on that new property in Florida. Alexis will be out in downtown Dahlia on Wednesday morning for brunch with the Aguilar ladies, then in the evening she’s meeting him at the Pham estate for an informal dinner while Vincent has drinks with some of his friends from the social club.

“Ba?”

On Thursday, it’s set to be a nightmare. A timezone mix-up by the new secretary means he has a call with the SPM office in Hong Kong scheduled for some ungodly hour on Thursday morning, then a shareholders’ meeting in town to discuss the merger that was supposed to happen before Christmas but he suspects is being pushed back to May, and then all three of them are meant to be flying out for the biannual charity fundraiser in McKinley.

…God in heaven, it’s going to mean that dreadful local wine they all seem to love. He’s never tasted anything so painfully sweet, and the worst part about it is that he can’t even discreetly refuse, because he’s fairly sure the hosts own the vineyards that make that awful stuff in the first place. Make no mistake, the houses out there are generally very pleasant to be around, but it really does make you wonder – can they really not afford to get anything good, or do they just ch—?

“Baba, do you…?”

“Hmm?” William startles, looking up to see that Vincent’s brought the pan over from the hob, offering him some more. “Oh, yes…”

He adds a splash of A positive to his breakfast while Vincent spoons some more jook into his sister’s bowl, and sips a little more tea as well. “Thank you, chéri.”

At the very least, the venue should be interesting enough. It’s apparently a new build up in the mountains, designed by some superstar new architect they’d shipped over from Switzerland or Sweden or whatever. Despite the acres of glass windows it’s undoubtedly got, the event starts in the early evening so nobody will have to worry about the sunlight – which would all be very lovely if the mountain setting didn’t mean that there’s also no airstrip. Instead, everyone’s having to fly into the closest airport, which is still several hours’ drive away in the middle of nowhere in Colorado.

Time will be tight, but they should make it in time. The hosts are sending a driver to collect them, so he doesn't need to sort it out himself, thank goodness. He and Alexis are leaving the next morning for a few days at the lake house in Maine, which will be a nice chance to relax. One of the young gentlemen from the house that’s hosting has a birthday on Saturday, so Vincent’s staying out there to ski with them for the long weekend before coming back to Dahlia on Monday afternoon.

Speaking of, he needs to make sure all of the suitcases are sorted and ready ahead of time for when they head to the airport on Thursday. The timing of this birthday excursion is a little inconvenient, seeing as it means they’re having to get all of Vincent’s skiwear out of storage now instead of in a few weeks’ time, when they’re going to Hokkaido together, but they’ve had worse itineraries before. Last year, he was falling over Alexis’ snowboard in the hall for what felt like months, after the trip to Switzerland had to be pushed back at the last minute.

In any case, the situation is the same. It’s going to be a hectic week ahead, which means an awful lot of work to be done now, before the deadline gets too close. He’s never liked cutting it fine if he can help it – preparation is the only proper way, after all. Intense preparation, perfect execution.

Today is for sorting out clothes, which shouldn’t be too bad if everything goes to plan. There’s meant to be a delivery from the milliner’s in about an hour, so that should arrive during Alexis’ dress fitting, and after that they’ll head into town. The children both have some shoes to collect, and then he and Vincent are going to the tailor’s to sort out a few last-minute things while Alexis has her nail appointment. He’s got that new suit jacket that just needs an extra dart or two, and there are a few buttons on Vincent’s waistcoat – the nice silk one from Malaysia that’s got all that lovely embroidery – that are starting to come loose.

After that… oh, what was it they needed to do? Ah, yes – Vincent said he’d ordered something for Alexis that they have to go and pick up. He’s not said what it is, so presumably it’s meant to be a surprise for her. Probably some new jewellery, if the address he said yesterday has anything to do with it, but knowing Vincent, it really could be anything. A new tennis bracelet, perhaps? The clasp on her favourite one needed repairing, so she’s been wearing one of her charm bracelets instead while it’s being fixed.

Once all that is sorted out, whatever it is, perhaps it will be time for lunch. They haven’t been back to the Rosewood for so long, and it would surely be nice to go and sit down in the tea room for a little while. Maybe it’s the fault of his old-fashioned sensibilities, but it really is one of the best places you can go for tea in Dahlia.

The service is very pleasant and prompt, the pianist is excellent, and everything is always so delicious – oh, the scones with the lemon curd are particularly good. Bitter things do taste so lovely with blood.

He sighs, faintly aware of Alexis and Vincent bickering about something or another. The selection is reasonable, but if only there was a little more variety. The establishments in Dahlia that keep blood are fairly numerous, considering its cornerstone status, but he does miss Paris. Not Paris now – he’s there far too often to have the chance to miss it, really – but Paris back then, in the days before he’d ever even thought of travelling to America.

The blood clubs they used to have around the turn of the last century – no, perhaps it was the century before…? Yes, yes, it must have been. He can still remember the smell of the gas lamps they used to use in the days before electrics, the tiny basements they used to be packed into like sardines in a tin. You never left without a headache, they used to say, for one reason or another. His throat dry from laughing, his tongue sweet from the wine, stumbling out onto the cobblestones in the hours just before daybreak.

Ah, they were always so much fun. What a thrill! There’s nothing quite like that now.

They’ll certainly go for lunch, he decides. At the very least, it will be good to get out of the sun, weak as it may be at this time of year. It’s not ideal that they’re having to go out in the middle of the day, but at least it’s not as bad as it will be in summer – when it’s cold, all the layers and layers of clothes and hats and scarves they have to wear don’t look as unusual. Granted, the car windows are all tinted, and all the places they’ll be going to are very used to their sort of clientele, but it is nice to blend in a little.

They must enjoy it while they can, after all. The summer is so dreadfully hot and bright here in California, somehow more torturous with every passing year. Palm leaves riffling in the midday breeze, soft cotton clouds drifting gently past. How it wears on you, how exhausting it is in the heat, sneaking fearful glances up at the blue sky and worrying always about the blistering terror of the sun.

“Gloves, today.”

The two of them nod, still half-heartedly kicking each other under the table in a way that would surely break any human’s ankle, and Alexis scoops up one last mouthful of blood from her bowl.

“I thought it was meant to be cloudy.”

“Lace will do.” William shrugs, eyes closing momentarily as he dips his head slightly to the side. “Cloudy, yes, but bright as well.”

He sighs, satisfied, and pushes his chair back to stand up. “You should get ready for your fitting, mm? They will be here soon, I think.”

The housekeepers can sort out the dishes – it’s far too early to be worrying about all that. Vincent takes a final gulp of tea before abruptly getting up out of his chair, and Alexis nearly knocks the empty jook pan off the table with one fluffy sleeve as she accidentally smacks face-first into his back.

“Hey!”

Vincent hisses when she pokes him in the side in retaliation, his thin pyjama shirt no defence against her sharp nails, but settles for just narrowing his eyes at her. “Jiejie!”

She just rolls her eyes as he fights to get his slippers back on, having kicked them off next to his chair while he was sitting down, and breezes straight past him towards the door. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for breakfast, ba.”

Honestly, the pair of them. He smiles as Alexis kisses him on the cheek as she passes, before disappearing around the corner and upstairs in a flurry of soft yellow cotton. “You’re welcome, chérie.”

“Thanks, ba.” Not to be outdone, a newly-slippered Vincent shuffles over to kiss him as well, wrapping his arms around his father’s waist and settling into his embrace. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” William replies, words muffled slightly by Vincent’s bedhead but no less heartfelt. “I love you very much, xiaozhi.”

He says it a lot, truth be told, and it’s such a comfort to be able to say – it wasn’t always an easy thing for Vincent to hear, much less accept. Alexis was the same, when their family was still so very new, but he thinks it’s got more to do with the state of Vincent’s human life than anything else. It wasn’t easy to come to terms with his death, the knowledge that his human family would never know what had happened to him, that they were still alive, but unreachable.

At least for Alexis, she always knew that there was nothing she could have done – she would have bled out on the floor, alone, and nobody would ever have known. He would never have admitted it, but Vincent was the same. It wouldn’t have mattered. Even if he’d been found alive, William had seen enough of the dead and dying to know immediately that he wouldn’t have survived for long.

It’s almost funny to think about, now, considering what’s become of him. Who would have thought that the boy who fought so fiercely to hold onto his human life would have found such happiness in his undeath?

He always thinks of that gala, the dinner at the Giuffrida estate in Sicily. It must have been ten years ago, or maybe fifteen? He’d not really been paying attention, engrossed in discussion with one of the Lombardy cousins that he hadn’t seen for decades, when a sudden spike of sickening terror flared in his chest, cold blood running even colder as his head whipped around to where he instinctively knew his progeny was in danger.

Lijie—!

The horrible thud of Alexis’ head hitting the floor, the stem of her wine glass crunching in her involuntary grip as she fell. Vincent, sprawled across the marble floor at the end of the bannister, champagne shattered on the floor where he’d been standing a half-second before. Clutching his sister to his chest as she lay limply in his arms, stunned – William had shivered at the howling torrent of protective rage that seared through their Maker’s bond as Vincent’s eyes found the pathetic, trembling shape of the man who had dared to trip his lady sister down the stairs.

A moment of madness, the stupid animal had stammered, nothing more than – than an accident, just a mistake, sir, I swear! My – my deepest apologies, sir, forgive me, forgive m—!

He hadn’t even lived to hit the floor. The room seemed to sway with the telltale vertigo of telekinesis as Vincent reached out a furious hand to drag the man down towards him, and like a flash of lightning in his fingers the stiletto knife hidden by his ankle had already cut the man’s head from his body, and was buried to the hilt in the sticky mess that used to be his heart.

Cored, like an apple. Vampiric blood, thick and bitter, leaking onto the tile.

Lexi – Lexi, jiejie, I…

William had excused himself from the conversation, quickly scooping up his daughter and ushering her and Vincent into one of the quieter adjoining rooms before anyone could say anything. Alexis had been fine, more surprised than anything as the tender bruise on the side of her head quickly healed over, but the two of them had been inseparable for the rest of the night.

And just like that, it was a fact – a rule, something that everyone knew. Perhaps it hadn’t been clear, but now nobody could possibly doubt it. The Solaires have always had a unique talent for retribution, and Vincent Solaire would do anything for his sister.

Footsteps on the hardwood. They stay there for a little while, eyes closed, until the housekeepers come in to start cleaning up. “Come on, chéri. Time to get ready.”

Vincent huffs, opening his mouth to say something, but—

Bzzzz!

“I’ve got it!”

The intercom goes off, and a fully-dressed Alexis comes racing downstairs to the control panel, pressing the button to open the gate with one hand while the other taps rapidly at her phone. “God, I thought they were coming later…”

Briefly, her eyes flick over to where her father and brother are still standing in the kitchen doorway, before going back down to her phone. “Didi, they’re not here for a pyjama party.”

She starts walking towards the door as the sound of a car coming up the drive gets louder, and Vincent scrambles towards the stairs before she can open it. “I’m going, I’m going!”

Laughing to himself, William goes to follow him, already thinking about what he’s going to wear today. “Don’t have too much fun, xiaoli.”

“Whatever.” She opens the door, and he feels the smile spread across her face more than he sees it. “No promises.”

It doesn’t take long for him to get dressed, all things considered. They’ll be going out for lunch, so he ought not to look too haphazard, but there’s no sense in overdoing it – no need for all the fuss of a frock coat when a morning coat will do perfectly well. His shirt is cream, not white, and his tie is a relaxed, dusky shade of pink to contrast his sky blue, paisley pocket square.

He’s just taking his waistcoat off the hanger when Vincent pops his head around the doorframe, unbuttoned jeans hanging off his waist as he fiddles with the earring in his right ear.

“Ba, are we doing anything this evening?”

William shakes his head, trying not to look too suspicious. “Not that I know of.”

“Cool.” Just like that, he’s fishing his phone out his pocket, tapping away at the screen and swearing under his breath when his earring falls out again. “Gav wants to go to some club he found in Central.”

Oh, Gavin. He’s so glad Vincent met that boy. They do get on so well, and even Alexis – well, Alexis hasn’t killed him yet, which is promising. “As long as you’re back for lunch tomorrow.”

“Can he come?” Vincent asks, scarlet eyes bright with excitement. “He’ll bring his partner too, probably!”

“His partner?” William pretends to think about it for a second, before he nods with far too much solemnity for the situation. “Well, why didn’t you start with that? Of course.”

Call it what you will, but he does adore Gavin’s little partner, the Freelancer who has the apartment downtown near that bar Porter likes. He remembers the rabbit-fast rhythm of their heart the first time they met, looking nervously around the foyer of the Solaire house like they’d accidentally wandered into a lion enclosure, almost jumping out of their skin when Vincent appeared behind them and held out a hand to take their coat. That must have been, what, two or three years ago?

Thankfully, they’re not nearly so skittish now. They’re hilarious, once you get them going, and remarkably insightful for someone who only found out about empowered life such a short time ago. They might as well be family, to be perfectly honest – there’s always a dinner invitation in the post for them, and Alexis almost tore Vincent’s arm off when he accidentally spilt coffee on their jacket, like she was their sister and not his.

Vincent grins, and scoops up his stray earring from the carpet as he wanders back down the hallway. “Merci!”

Ah, young love. Or whatever it is that those three have going on.

He really ought to go down and see how Alexis is doing, so he fetches his gloves from the drawer – dark kid leather, today – and drapes his waistcoat over one arm to take downstairs. He’ll just put it on in a minute. Briefly, he considers a hat, but he really can’t be bothered today, so he picks up the fa zan that’s still on his desk from a few days ago on the way past. It’s gold, with a little bit of jade for decoration, so it should go well enough with the rest of his clothes.

As he goes downstairs, he leaves his gloves on the side table in the foyer, but keeps his waistcoat with him. Decades ago, he would have been horrified at the impropriety, the idea of leaving his room without it to keep his trouser braces covered, but recently he’s stopped caring so much. Besides, it’s not like Alexis hasn’t seen him in them before, and he couldn’t give a damn what any of her tailors think of him when he’s the one who pays their wages.

There’s music coming from the living room, and the low sound of the record player spinning. He can’t quite put his finger on what the song is, but it’s frustratingly familiar. One of Alexis’ old records, maybe? It certainly sounds like it.

“Chérie?”

William knocks softly against the doorframe, and smiles as his daughter’s face lights up when she sees him. “May I come in?”

Alexis nods, arms out to her sides as one of the seamstresses neatly pins and re-pins the two raw edges of muslin closed, all the way down the side of her ribs, while another adjusts the measuring tape around her thigh.

“Can you just, uh…”

She waves vaguely at the mantelpiece over the fireplace to his left – he sighs, shaking his head fondly even as he goes to pick it up for her. It’s half-empty, cherry-scented lip gloss stamped sticky around the rim. “Magic would be too much, I assume.”

“Mm-hmm,” she mumbles into the offered glass of wine, “easier to do it normally.”

“Yes, for me to do it.”

“Yeah.” She grins, a little arrogant and ever so charming, and thoroughly ignores it when he rolls his eyes. The woman kneeling in front of her ducks out of the way so she can lean forward, as much as the half-constructed dress she’s being sewn into will allow, depositing the glass back into his outstretched hand.

“How much longer?”

“Not much. I already chose the pankou, so it’s just the rest of the measuring and then that’s it.”

He hums in acknowledgement, sitting down on the sofa opposite her to put the glass down on the coffee table. There’s a display box already there, so he leans over to inspect the selection of pankou the seamstresses have brought – there’s a particularly lovely set shaped like plum blossoms, along with an utterly adorable set of white rabbit-shaped pankou that he’s very tempted to have added to one of Alexis’ summer dresses.

One set is separated from the rest in a small plastic case, and he picks it up to examine the design. The knots are neat and clean, stiff silk ribbon folded into elegant golden sunrises, classic but not tacky. Yes, these should go well with the fabric she’s chosen. It’s not here today, but he saw the box of samples she’d been choosing from last week – if he remembers rightly, she’d picked a lovely blue silk, all light and airy. There had been a book of embroidery patterns as well, and she’d immediately taken to one of the more complicated designs, full of delicate orchids and butterflies.

Just thinking about it reminds him – didn’t she have another dress with orchids on, not that long ago? Or perhaps it was wisteria… yes, that might have been it. Some sort of purple flowers or other, to match her purple birthday cake. It was really quite a sight, tier after tier covered with so many edible flowers that it had been hard to find space for all the candles. Fifty on the top for all the years since her Turning, and the rest scattered across the other tiers wherever there was space.

She’d been so pleased with it when it arrived, insisting that everyone at the party ought to have a slice, only for Porter to conveniently disappear out onto the balcony for a smoke a few seconds later. Goodness, he wishes he’d had a camera with him – he remembers the panicked look on Porter’s face when she’d descended on him with a plate stacked high with desserts, swiftly crushing his cigarette in her fingers and all but forcing a forkful of lilac-coloured frosting in his mouth before he could escape.

Oh, how the time flies. If he concentrates, he can almost hear the sound of the champagne fizzing in his glass that night, almost smell the drifting smoke of blown-out birthday candles. All those years, decades and decades now, swallowed up fast and slow at the same time. Fifty years. Has it really been that long? It only feels like yesterday when she was young – she and Vincent, both.

…Well. Young, he says, as if that means anything at all. Everyone's young compared to him. An entire desert in an hourglass, the slow perfection of a snowglobe. Suspended in amber, pickled in formaldehyde. A statue gathering dust.

His children are everything to him. That's just the way it is. They're his whole world, the most important creatures to ever walk this earth – and of course they are, they're his family. William Solaire will never be alone again. A father, he's a father, and it's the most splendid and wonderful thing that ever was or will be. There is no House of Solaire without its son and daughter.

Big eyes in a little face. That doesn’t mean it’s not painful.

Because it’s not real, is it? It was never real, it could never have been real. Mine, they’re mine, he thinks – but born to what mother? William Solaire has no wife. They’ve always been mine, he insists – but wearing whose face? The only features he gave them were the fangs.

He never knew his children as children. He didn’t name them. He didn’t raise them. They were already fully-formed when he found them, already grown up without him.

A dying woman on a filthy floor, shallow breaths like mist in the freezing night, crawling away from the sticky mess of organs that had once been her attacker. One hand clutching the ruins of her neck, thick blood pouring sluggishly over her fingers and down her chest as she tried in vain to hold her throat together tight enough to breathe. A dying man, struggling weakly against the seatbelt that kept him pinned to the chair, dark blue bruises painted over crushed ribs and a collapsed lung. The last one still alive, souvenir sunglasses dangling from his collar, still clutching the wrist of the splintered corpse hanging limply next to him.

It’s just a fact. Blood relatives. A night without clouds, the great eye of the moon peering down from the sky.

But how else can he explain it? How else could he know? It doesn’t make sense. William Solaire closes his eyes and sees it all, sees a whole life a thousand times over, unfolding forwards and backwards and over itself like a great kaleidoscope. Crystal shapes and endless colours crashing over him, vast and grand and gorgeous – the lead-lined window of a cathedral raining down in a million slivers of stained glass, glittering in the creases of his skin and catching in his hair.

He sees his little girl, no more than knee-high as she toddles past him through the living room, tiny fingers curled around the soft stuffed bunny she refuses to put down. He sees the colourful flower clips in her short hair, the miniature ruffles around the tops of her miniature socks. The blanket she likes to lay on is spread out in front of the armchair where he sits, an island of blue and green squares atop the cream-coloured carpet, and the books he likes to read to her are already next to him on the coffee table.

Sugar and spice, the cinnamon swirl that runs right through her like sweet rock. She’s oh so lovely, so small and soft and giggly – honey Alexis, perfect in miniature. Darling creature, the tiny angel that fell to earth and landed in his lap.

Remembering is so easy. The precious weight of his little girl in his arms, only ever a daydream away.

It’s not just her, either. Suncream smeared across a tiny little face, white streaks smeared into black hair by messy little fingers. He remembers the garden as it used to be, the scarlet shade of the acer tree by the patio, the smell of honeysuckle thick in his throat the day they took the stabilisers off and Vincent rode his bike across the grass for the very first time. The blue plastic plate he insisted on eating from for every meal, the pair of yellow velcro sandals that always used to fall off no matter how tightly you did them up. His gorgeous boy, his only boy. Vincent and his megawatt smile, blindingly bright and instantly adorable, the treasure of his bleeding heart.

It must have been real. It must have been. Alexis, rucksack in hand, surreptitiously rolling up the waistband of her uniform skirt in the hallway before she leaves for school. Vincent, almost unrecognisable under a thick layer of face paint, gleefully holding up a plastic pumpkin full of sweets. Birthdays and Christmases and summer holidays, trips to the cinema and splash fights in the bath.

They’re his children. He’s their father. Nothing else could ever make sense.

And no matter what anyone says, hasn’t he taught them well? The Solaire siblings are the golden darlings of society, charming and clever and ever so beautiful. They’re well-travelled, they’re eloquent, they’re good with money. There’s a sort of gravity in the way they move, an easy charisma that’s impossible to resist. Funny, but never foolish. Kind, but never naïve.

Every single day, he’s nothing but proud of them – the way they talk, the way they dress, the way they dance. It’s like helium, filling him up and up and up until he thinks he might burst, lightheaded and fizzing and terribly dizzy. If it were up to him, he would do nothing but adore them, not a single other thing than kiss them and kiss them and kiss them for forever, until his unbreathing lungs ran out of breath and his unblinking eyes tired to look upon them.

MISSING, PRESUMED DEAD. It was an impossible choice, but it wasn’t a coincidence. The kidnapped woman and the stolen man, his children that are hostages that are corpses. It’s too much, he feels too much. Can’t swallow it down, can’t make it go away, coughing and spluttering around the sugar-coated shape of my darlings, my darlings, come here and never leave me.

Stuck in his throat, choking him. It’s painful, the stomachache of a sour death and a spoilt future. His eyes water, tears curdled like milk, but he doesn’t notice – because the cloying smell of sweet decay turns into something rich and vibrant, something filling and tempting and irresistibly moreish.

Four hundred years is a long time to starve. He can’t help it, he can’t help it, he’s so hungry. A weak and starving creature, clawing at its own flesh for something to eat, turned inside-out with loneliness. My children. His teeth tearing through a stranger’s neck, hot muscle and cold skin, baked Alaska brain freeze. Blood on blood on blood, cheesecake on mille-feuille on tiramisu.

And that’s just what the problem is, isn’t it? William Solaire is a dead man, a handful of dust in an unmarked grave, gorging himself on good things. It feels good to eat, so he fills his stomach with formaldehyde – it feels good to breathe, so he reaches up through the earth for some fresh air. Hedonism, it turns out, is a beautiful thing. It feels good to be rich and it feels good to be powerful and it feels good to never ever be alone again.

Yes, the sugary sharpness of afterlife everlasting. Pastry flakes all down his shirt, buttery and golden, a sticky smear of strawberry jam all down his sleeve. Ice cream and banana slices, jelly and sprinkles and chocolate sauce, stacked up in a tall parfait glass with a wafer on top. There’s sherbet powder all over his fingers, vanilla custard dripping down his chin. A candyfloss boy and a crème brûlée girl, with red velvet eyes and crêpes suzette smiles, and the caramel sticks his sharp teeth together.

He can’t love them in a way that’s human. Die now, or live forever. Toffee apple sweet and lemon curd bitter, sugar and chocolate and sweet, sweet cream.

“Does this look alright?”

A muslin-clad Alexis twists from side to side, dressmaking pins catching the light as stray threads of cotton float silently to the carpet, laser-focused on her reflection in the standing mirror to her left. All William can think is that she is the most beautiful princess that there has ever been or will be.

What he actually says is a little less complimentary.

“...Hm.”

“Baba!” she huffs, shifting slightly from foot to foot. “Is it okay or not?”

“You would look beautiful in anything, mon ange,” he laughs, left hand absentmindedly fixing the folds in his shirt where it’s tucked awkwardly under his braces. “But is it comfortable? Can you walk in it?”

Obediently, she goes for a lap around the living room, walking on her tiptoes to imitate the high heels she’ll be wearing. As she walks, each step in time with the music playing softly in the background, he suddenly remembers what the record is called – of course! This is one of her really old ones, isn’t it? From before she was Turned, even.

None of his possessions from his human life had survived. Standing over her twitching, gasping body, flushed with the heat of her blood and dizzy with the rush of the Maker’s bond sewing their minds together, he’d known even then that he didn’t want the same thing to happen to his new daughter.

For obvious reasons, she hadn’t been able to go and pick her things up from wherever she’d been living, so as soon as she’d woken up he’d had to ask her for the address. Luckily, she hadn’t been declared missing yet, and he hadn’t let the Department know that they needed to fake her death, so it had been fairly easy to sneak in the next night. Her apartment had been in a mostly-unempowered part of town, and there were no surveillance cameras or electronic locks in those days. Just a window, a key, and as many of her belongings as he could take before the sun rose.

He’d have gone back to get it all, if he had the chance, but it was difficult to tell what was hers and what wasn’t. If only her roommate hadn’t been such a light sleeper…

Mm, he’d almost forgotten about that girl. What was her name again? She’d heard the window opening and called out for Alexis, loudly enough that the next-door neighbours had surely heard her through the wall. William had frozen, only halfway through the window frame, and she must have seen his shadow on the hallway floor – Christ, the sound of her scream had been so terribly, painfully shrill. As fast as he could, he’d scrambled into the apartment and forced open her bedroom door, grasping her face in his hand and staring into her terrified eyes so that he could Trance her.

He’d made her go back to bed and forget that she’d seen or heard anything, but it was too late to do anything about the neighbours, who he could hear whispering nervously to each other through the wall. The risk of breaking covert was just getting higher and higher, so he’d cut his losses – quickly, he’d packed up as much of Alexis’ room as he could, and swept through the apartment for anything that looked like it belonged to her. It hadn’t been easy to get it all out through the window, but he’d been gone before the knocking at the door started.

Never mind. Once she was declared missing, the police seized some of what was left, and it was no trouble at all to steal those out of the evidence packets. And once she was declared dead, her human family came to collect the rest. They’d even put it all into boxes so it was easy to carry.

Alexis had been so happy when he’d come back home with all her missing things, eagerly rifling through the boxes like a child on Christmas morning. So happy, in fact, that she hadn’t even noticed the Invocation setting in.

It wasn’t much. Just enough to take the edge off. Enough to make it a little less painful, enough for her to not miss them quite so deeply. The face of her roommate would fade into a gentle blur, the memories of her family and her friends and her whole human life would settle into soft focus. She’d remember her best friend’s name, but not quite recall her voice – she’d know her mother’s birthday, but not how she liked her coffee. She’d remember the colour of her boyfriend’s car, but not his last name, not the dress he’d bought her for her birthday, not the bouquet of flowers that were still sitting on her bedside table, not the date she was supposed to go on the day after she died.

…Well, perhaps he’d got a little overenthusiastic when it came to the boyfriend. Never mind. Not much to be done about it now.

“How does it feel, mm?”

Alexis nudges her calf with his foot as she walks past. “Seems like it fits.”

“Good.”

He nods contentedly, idly shrugging on his waistcoat as she totters over to collect her glass from the coffee table, gulping down the rest of her wine. It’s lucky that human alcohol can’t get them drunk, else he’d surely need to have words with her—

“Do you remember Sylvain?”

William pauses, unblinking. Alexis stares at her empty glass.

“...Sylvain?”

“The Amaranthe boy.”

A fleeting image in his head, the trembling tingle of their Maker’s bond. A young man dressed in silk, blonde hair pulled back and tied with a ribbon. Low wooden heels clicking on the terrace of a forgotten house, an almost-unnoticeable tear in the cuff of his jacket. A cousin of a nephew of a sister-in-law, or some vague impression like that.

All the blasted Amaranthes look the same. William shakes his head. “No. I don’t.”

“He gave me this bottle as a gift,” Alexis muses, tipping her hand from side to side to watch a single, lonely drop of wine slide around the bottom of the glass. “Said I should save it for a special occasion.”

She smiles faintly, and William can taste the memory on his tongue. Perhaps you and I could share it sometime, Princess Solaire.

He raises an eyebrow, glancing at the empty bottle on the mantelpiece. “How cruel of you, xiaoli. He’ll be disappointed.”

“No,” she says evenly. “He won’t.”

Footsteps from behind, feigned casualness. Your boyfriend has terrible manners.

Does he?

Mm-hmm. The beginnings of a headache starting to form, hairpins digging in too tightly. Thought you’d be the type to train them better, really.

This one’s different.

How so?

Well, considering he doesn’t exist, it makes it pretty difficult.

Doesn’t exist… Red eyes narrowing, then a shrug that comes too easily. My mistake, then. I’ll have him boxed up for you to take home.

You’re too kind. William can feel Alexis getting more and more suspicious, her recollection coloured with mistrust. Give him to my brother, then, if you see him. His car has a little more room than mine.

Your…. A sudden silence. Your brother?

“Was this the first one Vincent was there for, then?” he asks, as the seamstresses start to help Alexis out of the muslin dress.

She nods. “Yeah.”

He winces, the impression of bright lights in the corner of his eye, the shadow of Alexis’ hand gesturing to one side. He’s in there somewhere. Haven’t you met him, yet?

A pause. Cold blood turning to ice.

That depends.

On what?

An infuriating smirk, and a pulse of fearful rage that makes William’s hand twitch with Alexis’ urge to slap the Amaranthe boy right across his ridiculous face. You never struck me as the sisterly type.

You wouldn’t want me to strike you, I’m sure.

Funny. I said the same thing to your brother, but he doesn’t listen as well as you.

He feels Alexis opening her mouth, but the remembered voice interrupts before she can speak. You don’t have to lie, you know. If you want a guy around, there are easier ways than making daddy give you a little brother to look after.

William’s fangs drip with Alexis’ venom, laughter short and sharp and furious. You think I’m keeping him as a whore?

Not a very pretty one, spits the boy. He’s not good enough for you.

And you are?

Of course. I’m the only one who’s good enough, and you know it as well as I do.

He turns to leave, gold brocade glinting in the low light, and William feels his heart rate spike as Alexis sees red.

Lay your hand upon my brother and you lay your hand upon the House of Solaire, Alexis hisses, sharp tongue like the savage crack of a whip. Even you couldn’t be that stupid, could you?

And you wouldn’t be stupid enough to threaten me, would you? Or has House Solaire forgotten the debt it owes to House Amaranthe so quickly? The legacy of our—

Legacy? Alexis spits, and there’s a flash of a mental image – a high-heeled shoe, crushing a human skull into powder. Like you even know what that means.

More than you, the boy scoffs. You’ve not even hit your first century yet, dolly bird. Left your miniskirt at home, huh?

I’m surprised you know what a miniskirt is, she replies archly, and William feels her silently cursing the fact that he knew she was turned in the sixties. Not like anyone lets you under them these days.

I wouldn’t want to be under yours, certainly.

She pouts, mockingly. No? You’re missing out, then.

“What did he mean by that?”

William blinks, shaken from Alexis’ recollections to see her out of the muslin and half-dressed already, pulling her shirt over her head. “Pardon?”

“The… that debt,” she says, voice tinged with confusion. “Did they do something for us?”

Has he really never told her?

The Amaranthes are Old Blood, technically, although not by that name. The current head lives somewhere near Deauville, as if that fools anyone. They’re not even French, at least not originally – they’re actually a branch of House Abendroth that managed to escape the frenzy of vampiric persecution that swept across Europe in the mid-eighteenth century.

If there’s a debt he owes to anyone, it would be to House Abendroth. His Maker’s blood still soaked into his clothes, half-dead from exhaustion after crossing the border into – well, it wasn’t even Germany at the time, just a duchy he hadn’t cared to learn the name of, as he fled the smoking, screeching ruins of that awful clan. He still remembers looking up at the manor house by Lake Starnberg, freezing and hungry as Elisa dragged him through the gates, and thinking that he must have found heaven.

It’s a debt he never got the chance to repay, a debt that burned along with the Abenroths when the human hunters came for them. A splinter branch of a family tree that’s nothing more than deadwood. House Amaranthe are nothing like Elisa.

“Nothing of note,” he manages to say. “Nothing worth remembering.”

Alexis clearly doesn’t buy it, but she just blinks and looks away. “Okay.”

A minute passes. The seamstresses finish packing up and quietly excuse themselves with a bow.

“Did you kill him, at least?”

Alexis huffs, and it’s nearly a laugh. “Obviously.”

“How?”

For half a second, he’s back in her head, leaning over a balcony and picking dead skin from under her fingernails. A blonde corpse leaks blood into the fountain on the terrace below, twisted and crushed until it’s almost unrecognisable, fine silk sodden with water.

“I do hope that’s not our fountain.”

“It was at some party in Budapest, so no.” She’s dressed now, fiddling with one of the charms on her bracelet. “We left before they even finished clearing it up. It was fucking boring, anyway.”

“Who’s partying in Budapest?”

Vincent’s voice is muffled slightly by the walls and the ceiling, although both of them can hear the rattle of his jewellery case as he rifles through it in his bedroom. That boy wears so many rings, it’s a wonder he can even lift his hands out of his pockets.

“Not you,” Alexis yawns, “unless Gavin’s planning on flying you out tonight.”

“He might.”

“The clubs in Budapest aren’t that good.”

“They’re good!” Either Vincent is more attached to Hungarian nightlife than he lets on, or he’s finished picking out his jewellery – either way, he comes lolloping down the stairs and saunters into the living room, dropping himself onto the sofa right in his sister’s lap. “You’re just bad at languages.”

Alexis wrinkles her nose haughtily and pokes him in the side. “Everybody understands vodka Red Bull.”

“They understand that you have shit taste in drinks.”

“You drink Buck’s fizz! Like a fucking teenager!”

“I drink it ‘cause it comes with th—”

The intercom buzzes, and thank God, it must be the milliner’s delivery. Discreetly, William stands up and heads for the control panel in the foyer before they start biting each other. If he doesn’t see it, it never happened.

The delivery is swift, only two crates this time, so he leaves them by the bottom of the stairs to sort out when they get back from their shopping trip. Speaking of which, they really ought to get going. There’s an awful lot to do.

While he’s there, he uses the landline to call ahead and tell the Rosewood to expect them around one o’clock. They know to always give them a table away from the windows, but he makes a point of asking for the eventide menu, regardless. You can’t be too careful.

He goes back into the living room to find the children glaring daggers at each other, which would probably be more meaningful if they weren’t also curled up together against the arm of the sofa like puppies, pointedly ignoring the low murmur of satisfaction that William can feel through his Maker’s bonds.

God, they’re so adorable.

“Zou ba.” He shakes his head fondly, and goes to get his coat from the hook by the front door. “We’re already late.”

“What?”

“Wait, really?”

…They’re not late at all. It’s just funny watching Alexis scurry upstairs to get her handbag when he knows she left it in the kitchen last night, and Vincent tripping over his own feet as he tries to put his shoes on without having to undo the laces.

Smiling to himself, he reaches into the console table drawer and picks out a random set of car keys, before heading out to the garage. To his delight, it’s Vincent’s red Purosangue that lights up when he clicks the button.

“Lili, are you driving today?”

“Yes!” She comes racing out to the garage, Vincent in hot pursuit, and plucks the keys from his outstretched hand. “I’m driving!”

“What? Ba!”

It’s too late. William snickers as he opens the passenger side door, delicately adjusting his gloves as he sits down. “Too late, chéri.”

“It’s my car!”

“Get in, then,” Alexis says through the thick tint of the driver’s side window, and grins as Vincent grumpily opens the door behind her and slides into the back seat. “So fussy.”

She starts to reverse out of the garage, but it’s quite obvious that she’s not really sure how big this car is, getting dangerously close to the wall when—

Thump!

“Didi!”

Vincent just cackles to himself as Alexis stamps on the brake, hand still resting against the doorframe he’d just hit. “That’s never going to not get you, is it?”

“I swear to God, I’m gonna kill you!”

“You said that last time!”

“Savages,” William mutters, mostly to himself, “my house is full of savages…”

The bickering between the front and back seats quickly turns into a heated argument over who gets to choose the music, and William closes his eyes as Alexis finally gives in and lets Vincent connect his phone to the car Bluetooth while she drives down towards the gate. He ends up choosing one of his favourite albums – it’s some sort of rock-pop something or other from about ten years ago, maybe twenty, the story of which he’s tried unsuccessfully to explain to William about a hundred times.

My darlings, my darlings. A plate of lilac-coloured frosting that’s more candles than cake. Tiny yellow shoes, Velcro straps undone, lined up by the door. The little brother who’s not so little, the older sister who never gets older. He could never love them less, only more and more and more.

William smiles. The gate opens automatically as they get closer, and Alexis turns the volume up as she drives through. Vincent just sings even louder.

-

link to the oyster eater pronunciation guide <3

main masterlist

this is an original fanwork by @gingerbreadmonsters - please do not repost or misattribute

[katabay]

last year I made this post about some characters in a story I've been referring to as 'candy colored demon hunters,' on account of. everyone originally having candy colored hair.

anyway, it's mostly existed in my sketchbooks because it was an action story about killing monsters and a lot of the world building came down to 'this looks cool, but it would be cooler if I used my highlighters to color this.'

somehow. along the self indulgent journey of brightly colored violence, the world building started to click into place? ?? & so I have a scene in the form of a comic I'm gonna try and post tomorrow, but I wanted to set the mood before that and post a little illustration I did of marion (blue hair) and ex (green hair) hanging out on some rooftops.

[missdynamighttt]

feining for frat boy katsuki…

it was hot. loud. half the girls were already screaming over shirtless frat boys grinding against windshields. your friend dragged you out with a “come on, it’s for charity!” and now you’re standing in the corner with a lukewarm lemonade and zero expectations.

you didn’t even want to come to this stupid fraternity fundraiser.

your roommate dragged you out with the promise of half-naked frat boys, but all you’ve seen so far are drenched freshmen trying to flex their way into a hernia.

but then you see him.

he’s got his back turned at first—lean muscle, golden skin, red swim trunks slung way too low on his hips. sunlight catches the water dripping down his back like it’s staged. and when he turns around?

game over. he’s gorgeous.

sharp jaw, wild blonde hair flattened from water, a cocky little smirk on his face as he wrings a sponge out over his head, totally aware of the stares.

and he sees you. right away. ruby eyes locked with yours and gives the most arrogant little up-nod like, yeah. you’re next.

you try to act unaffected. fail immediately.

he saunters over, sudsy bucket in one hand, water dripping down his abs like it’s a fucking calvin klein ad. stops right in front of you, eyeing your car, then you, then your car again. “you the one drivin’ this piece of shit?”

you blink. “excuse me?!”

he shrugs but you can see a little grin tugging on the corner of his mouth, smug and unbothered. “relax. i’ll make it look brand new.”

he puts the bucket down, saunters over, and damn—he’s even hotter up close. tall. muscles for days. and that little scar on his cheek? unfair.

then, leaning closer, voice low: “the name's katsuki bakugo. what’s yours, sweet girl?”

you tell him. maybe a little breathless.

he repeats it once—slow, like he’s trying it out on his tongue. “hm. yeah. i like that.”

and then he goes to work. but not just on the car.

katsuki bakugo washes that car like he’s auditioning for the dirtiest boy band you’ve ever seen. dropping the sponge just to bend over in front of you, ass on full display. making eye contact when he slides his hand over the hood like he’s caressing it. watering himself down with a hose and shaking his hair out like he’s in a shampoo commercial from hell.

by the time he’s done, your car is sparkling. and so are you—flushed, flustered.

he tosses the sponge into the bucket, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and smirks. “lemme know if you need a private wash sometime.”

and then he walks away, with you watching the water dripping down the curve of his spine, no better than a teenage boy ogling the back of a girl's bikini. you swear you black out for a second too.

it’s only a few hours after the car wash before he slides in your dms, smooth but dirty. you’re in your room, still reeling from whatever the hell that was, when your phone buzzes.

king.explosionmurder has sent you a message.

(yeah. that’s his actual handle. because of course it is.) then, you open it.

king.explosionmurder:

can't stop thinking about the girl with the shittiest car and the cutest fuckin’ face.

you stare. then another message pops up.

king.explosionmurder:

u free tonight?

or maybe you're too busy being adorable somewhere else?

your heart does a thing. you type out a reply—something just barely cocky enough to match him:

you:

depends

you always this forward?

king.explosionmurder:

only for girls with shitty taste in cars

so, only you

let me buy you a drink, sweet girl?

you:

fine

you can buy me a drink, frat boy

but for the record?

my taste in cars is not that shitty

king.explosionmurder:

whatever you say beautiful

8 pm, sunset bar down 5th ave

don't be late

katsuki shows up five minutes early, in a black tee that clings to his chest and jeans that should be illegal. hair still messy from his post-car-wash shower. when you walk in, his eyes track you like you’re the only person in the room.

“tch. thought you were gonna flake.”

you roll your eyes. “you’d cry if i did.”

his mouth twitches. “like a damn baby.”

then the date just... hits different. it wasn't what you expected. sure, it’s packed with college students and frat bros, but in the back corner booth? with him?

it’s quiet. comfortable. almost… intimate.

he’s not much of a talker, but with you? he tries. you ask about his major—he’s an aspiring pro-hero, of course—and he asks about yours, grumbling when you light up talking about it, because “fuck, that smile’s gonna kill me.”

and even though he’d die before saying it out loud, the minute you take a sip of your drink and laugh at something dumb he says? he’s gone. head over heels.

he walks you back to your dorm with his hand on the small of your back, even though it’s barely a ten-minute walk. says “text me when you’re in” even though he literally watched you unlock your door. stands there, gruff and gorgeous, waiting.

“gonna invite me?” he asks, tone teasing.

you shake your head, grinning. “not on the first date, i'm not.”

he groans dramatically. “damn. fuckin’ killin’ me here.”

you grin. “goodnight, frat boy.”

but he doesn’t move right away.

just stands there under the warm porch light, one hand stuffed in his pocket, the other rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to work off the ache of not touching you again. his shirt clings to him in the summer heat, his jaw sharp in the glow, but it’s his eyes that freeze you in place.

not hard. not sharp. not the glare he usually levels at the world.

but soft. heavy. like you’ve stolen the breath from his lungs and he doesn’t even want it back.

he looks at you like you hung the damn moon.

he takes one small step closer, close enough that you can feel the heat coming off his chest, close enough that if either of you moved just an inch, you’d be kissing.

“goodnight, sweet girl,” he says, voice low and rough, like gravel laced with honey.

it hits you somewhere deep. like he’s branding the words into you.

and then—he actually smiles. a real one. lopsided, shy, the kind of smile you’d never expect from someone who threatens to body slam people over couch cushions.

then he turns and walks away, hands shoved deep in his pockets, head down, like if he looks back even once, he’ll do something stupid like run back and kiss you senseless.

you close the door behind you, heart thudding so hard you swear your roommate can hear it.

you’re screwed. so screwed.

because things after that? they move fast.

to everyone else, he was the guy who'd scream if you left dishes in the sink, throw a beer can at you if you sat on his side of the couch, and threaten to body slam you if you so much as breathe near him.

but the entire frat house knew that their loud, grumpy, terrifyingly efficient frat dad—had a soft spot the size of a planet. and that soft spot? was for you.

you’re the only person allowed in his room during his grumpy post-practice naps. the only one who can touch his hair without him flinching. he’d grumble when you flick his forehead when he was being dramatic but he'd let you.

he might curse under his breath, but when you’d slide onto his lap during movie night, he'd wrap an arm around you like it was instinct. like protecting you came as naturally as breathing.

he had snacks stocked in the mini fridge (not for him, you liked them). he hands you your favorite snack and grumbles, “was on sale. don’t get used to it,” even though it’s never on sale but he bought six of them anyway.

and when finals week hits? he’s a damn soldier for you.

caffeine runs. your favorite takeout. quiet growls at anyone who tries to talk to you in the library. he reads your flashcards like they’re enemy coordinates and quizzing you becomes his personal mission.

but the best part? the tiny, quiet moments in between.

like when he’s losing at mario kart and you’d sit in his lap while he played, steal his fries, kiss his cheek mid-rant just to shut him up.

or when you were too tired to walk back to your place, you just curl up in his bed. not only does he let you, he tucks the blanket around you and kisses your forehead so soft it makes your chest ache.

and somehow, all of that was like magic.

sure, he might’ve acted like the world’s most chaotic, aggressive frat president, but when it came to you? he was all bark, all bite… and all heart.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[hoshifighting]

   bsf!seungcheol watching you ride a dildo

— where your bestfriend!seungcheol wants his shirt back, but he searches for it inside the wrong drawer.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, sex toys, ''cock'' riding, clit stimulation, lub, voyeurism?, fingering, penetrative sex, reader feels the ''real thing'' after, dildo sucking, dirty talk, choking, overwhelming.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

“yo, y/n, where’s that shirt i left at yours the other day? the black one, with the holes,” seungcheol’s voice booms from your bedroom, and you can hear him already rummaging through your wardrobe like it’s his own. typical. you’re still in the bathroom, pulling a shirt over your head, eyes rolling at how this guy feels so at home in your space, no hesitation.

“it’s in the drawer, you dumbass,” you yell back, adjusting your shirt in the mirror, not giving it a second thought.

and then it hits you.

oh fuck. that drawer. the one you’ve recently swapped out for all your, uh, extra stuff. your eyes widen, and a bolt of panic shoots through your veins. not the t-shirts and gym clothes drawer anymore, no—your sex drawer now, fully stocked and thriving.

you bolt out of the bathroom, hair still a mess, nearly tripping over your own feet, “seungcheol, no! wait—”

too late. he’s standing there, drawer halfway open, a look of pure shock frozen on his face. it’s like time slows down and you can almost hear the dramatic, “dun-dun-dunnnn” playing in the background as his eyes lock on something you really didn’t want him to see.

the dildo. baby pink. glittery. silicone, with a ridiculously realistic head.

“what... the… fuck,” he mumbles, staring at it like it’s an alien. his hand’s on the drawer handle, and he’s so still, like he can’t quite process what’s in front of him. if it was just the lube, or even the handcuffs, maybe you could’ve salvaged this situation. maybe. but nope, he’s standing there like he’s seen the holy grail, except it’s your new glitter dildo, glistening under the light like a perverse disco ball.

you skid to a stop, face burning up. “cheol, no—don't—” but he’s already got it in his hand, holding it up like it’s some kind of trophy. a fucking trophy.

he gives it a little shake, slapping it against his palm with a dumb grin. “y/n… never pegged you for a glitter girl. this—” he waves it around, the thing jiggling like some obscene party favor. “—is this what you’re into now? pink, sparkly dicks?”

you slap your hand over your face, mortified, “it’s new! i—it’s not even—i haven’t—just give it back, jesus christ!”

but he’s inspecting it now, like he’s doing some kind of in-depth analysis. his eyebrows raise, and he looks from it to you, back to it. “it’s not that big, though, right? not thicker than me, at least.” he looks way too smug for your liking, like he’s just cracked some inside joke.

“cheol!” you squeal, lunging forward to grab it, but he pulls it out of reach, shaking his head like you’re a kid trying to snatch candy from a shelf.

“nah, nah,” he chuckles, “hold up, hold up. i just… i just didn’t expect this from you. like, c’mon, this? you could’ve called me. i would’ve come running, y’know. no need to settle for this sparkly piece of shit.”

you’re fully red now, your fingers gripping his forearm as you try and close the drawer with your hip, but he keeps it open, the dildo still in his grip. “cheol, i swear to god, give it back.”

he twirls it like it’s a damn baton, slapping it lightly against his hand again. “so, like... is it better than the real thing? huh?”

“no, oh my god, no! i haven’t even—just—shut up!” you try again to snatch it back, but he’s stronger than you and absolutely milking this moment.

“mmm,” he hums, biting the inside of his cheek like he’s deep in thought, “i bet you’ve been riding this thing at night, hm? fuckin’ bouncing on it, lights out, all alone in this big-ass bed…” his words trail off, teasing, and you want to crawl into a hole and die, right there.

“cheol, stop, i’m not—i haven’t even used it yet, okay?” you sputter, still trying to grab it, but your words only seem to encourage him.

“oh? you haven’t? huh… well,” he holds it up, wiggling it under the light, “why don’t you show me how you would? like, y’know, ride it for me.” the way he says it, dead serious, makes you stop. his voice drops lower, and suddenly the room feels hotter. “c’mon, y/n. don’t be shy. give me a little demo.”

“cheol, stop it. i’m already embarrassed enough,” you say, feeling your breath catch in your throat. your cheeks burn. he just grins, settling back into the chair at your vanity, his eyes practically glinting.

“don’t be shy now,” he says, but you can hear the tease dripping from every word. his back rests against the wall, arms lazily crossed, as if he’s got all the time in the world to watch you squirm. you can’t even deny the flutter of heat that’s been coiling inside you since this whole thing started.

you let out a shaky breath, reaching for the lube, the sound of the cap clicking open feeling way too loud in the stillness of the room. you get on your knees, your fingers tremble as you coat the bottom of the dildo with it, sticking it to the floor, the suction strong as it holds in place. every nerve in your body is hyper-aware of his eyes on you. watching. waiting.

you slowly tug down your shorts and panties, trying to shield yourself as much as possible, your oversized shirt covering your lower half. it’s stupid to feel shy now, considering what you’re about to do, but you still shake your head when he says, “take that shirt off too.”

“n-no,” you stutter, cheeks flushing. you glance at him through your lashes as you start to spread the lube on the dildo, your hand sliding up and down, coating it thoroughly. the way you grip it, the slow strokes—it’s almost automatic, the sight of it in your hand makes his jaw clench, and you can practically hear his breath catch.

he shifts in his seat, eyes glued to the movement of your hand. he swallows thickly, his gaze darkening, and you can see the tension building in his body. it’s not just teasing anymore—he’s feeling this, just as much as you are.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes not leaving the way your hand moves, the way the lube makes the dildo glisten. for a split second, it’s like he can’t even blink, like if he does, he might miss something.

you feel your body flush even more, and you bite your lip as you spread your legs slightly, reaching down with your lubed-up fingers to ease yourself open. “look away for a sec,” you mumble.

he scoffs, eyes narrowing, but he closes them. still, you know better than to think he’s not peeking—there’s no way he’s fully shutting you out. and sure enough, you catch him with one eye cracked open, watching, his arms crossed over his chest trying to look calm and shit, but his body clearly stiffen up. the slick sounds of your fingers working you open fill the air, and you can’t help the small whimpers that escape your lips. each one seems to hit him like a punch, his eyes flickering, the sound driving him crazy.

you can feel your own wetness mixing with the lube as you stretch yourself, prepping so you can sit on it. your breath hitches as you pull your hand away, finally sitting back up on your knees. “i’m gonna… i’m sliding on it now,” you whisper, like saying it aloud makes it even more real.

his—both—eyes snap open at that, and he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, staring hard. “yeah? let me see,” oh, he had his soothed voice, and you can feel the his gaze on you.

your body trembles as you line yourself up, one hand braced on the floor in front of you for support as the other lined the toy. the first contact makes you bite your bottom lip, your pussy lips parting as you sink down, the head of the dildo stretching you slowly. you let out a soft moan, your body reacting to the stretch, the feel of the silicone sliding inside.

“shit,” you breathe out, your head falling forward as you lower yourself further, taking more of it in—the cool, smooth silicone pushing into you, the lube making everything slick and easy. the way it presses against your inner walls has you clenching around it, your muscles pulsing as you adjust.

you can feel seungcheol’s eyes on you, locked onto the way your body reacts, the small tremors running through you. his fingers twitch, his hands squeezing each other so tightly you swear his knuckles are turning almost purple.

he’s almost breathless from just watching. you feel so full, the stretch making your hips shake as you rock slightly, sliding the dildo deeper inside. the pressure builds as your pussy hugs the toy, the texture of it rubbing against you in all the right places.

your shirt brushes against the floor as you lean forward, hips grinding down, taking the dildo all the way in. your hand clutches the floor for balance, the other gripping your thigh as you start to move, slowly at first, testing how much you can take. each slide has you gasping, your wetness mixing with the lube, creating obscene, slick sounds that echo through the room.

seungcheol’s eyes are practically burning holes into you, his breath coming out in short, shallow pants. you can feel his tension, his need to see everything, to watch every reaction, every twitch of your body as you ride the dildo.

“c’mon… let me see your face, baby,” he sulks in a greedy way.

but you shake your head again, hiding behind your hair, your chest heaving as the pleasure builds, too shy to meet his gaze. your pussy tightens around the toy as you rock your hips, the friction making your thighs shake, your moans escaping louder now, uncontrollable.

he leans in even closer, eyes dark and heavy, and it feels like he’s about to explode just from watching. his voice drops, “take that shirt off.”

“cheollie…” your voice cracks, finally looking at him for the first time since you started riding the toy. the moment your eyes meet his, the intensity nearly floors you. he’s been watching you with such focus, so goddamn turned on, and you can see it all over his face—his chest heaving, his lips slightly parted, the eyebrows knit together.

he’s so still for a second, but his eyes flick down to where the toy disappears inside you, watching how your pussy swallows the dildo, and it’s like he can’t hold it in anymore. “lift it up a little, just a little,” he says.

with a shaky breath, you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, pulling it up until it rests just under your belly button, feeling the cool air against your sopping cunt. the moment he sees you fully exposed, he lets out a low groan, like he’s moaning right along with you. his eyes are glued to the way your body moves, the way your slick drips down onto the floor as you rock your hips harder.

“fuck, you’re dripping all over,” he mutters, his eyes flicking between your face and the obscene sight below you. you’re too overwhelmed to even process the words fully, but when you feel his gaze lingering a bit too much, like he’s inspecting every little detail, you can’t help but try to hide again.

you quickly cover yourself with your hand, right over your clit, your other hand flying to the floor to support yourself as your head falls back, mouth open as a loud moan escapes. it’s getting too good now, the way the toy presses up against your walls.

you circle your clit with the hand covering you, the added stimulation making your moans uncontrollable, rolling your hips harder and faster on the dildo. “fuck, cheol… oh my god…” your voice is all breathy and desperate, and you can feel his eyes on you, burning, drinking in every reaction.

he leans forward again, elbows resting on his knees, his voice dropping even lower, almost a growl. “does it feel good, baby? look at you, fucking yourself like that. is it really better than the real thing?”

you shake your head, gasping for air, unable to form any real words as your hips move on their own, chasing the high that’s building. his voice is like gasoline on a fire, making everything burn hotter, the pleasure consuming you. you can't even look him in the eye, too mortified by how good this feels, by how badly you want more, maybe how badly you want... him?

“ride it like it’s me,” he rasps, and you almost choke on your own breath at the words. “pretend it’s my cock you’re bouncing on. ride it like you’d ride me.”

your whole body freezes for a second, the words sinking in, and your mind spins, caught between the fantasy and the reality of what’s happening. the thought of him, of riding him instead of the toy—it makes you instantly clench around the soft silicone.

you breathe in sharply, your chest heaving as you press your hand back on the floor, leaning forward. the angle change gives him the perfect view, your ass sticking out behind you, uncovered, as you start to bounce on the dildo, your knees moving in and out as you grind down harder. your moans grow louder, more desperate.

he groans softly, watching the way your body moves, the way you tremble and gasp. “shit, look at you… would you ride me like that?” his voice is so velvety. and its doing things to you. “would you moan even louder for me?”

the thought of it, of him underneath you, of riding him instead, has you spiraling. your mind can’t shake the image of his cock inside you, of bouncing on him just like this. the fantasy is too vivid, too real, and your body reacts before you can stop it. your hips slam down onto the toy harder, your moans growing higher in pitch, louder, uncontrollable.

he bites his lip, his eyes locked on the way you grind down on the dildo. his hand slides inside his sweatpants, gripping his cock, stroking himself in time with your movements, his breath coming out in shallow, desperate pants.

“fuck, you’d feel so good on me,” he groans, his hand moving faster as he strokes himself. “i bet you’d be so tight, so wet for me. you’re already dripping everywhere, baby… fuck, just thinking about it is making me lose it.”

you’re barely coherent at this point, your mind clouded by the sound of his voice, by the way the toy stretches you just right. the wet sounds of your pussy sliding up and down the dildo fill the room, mingling with your moans and his ragged breathing.

“cheol… i’m… i’m so close,” you manage to gasp out, your body trembling as you push yourself closer to the edge.

his eyes darken even more, his jaw clenched tight. “yeah? gonna cum for me?” his voice is strained.

he moves before you can even catch your breath, standing up from the chair, your hips still working on the dildo, but now, sitting straight again, and you can barely focus as he steps closer, towering over you even as he kneels down, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly.

“cheol, i—” you don’t even get the chance to finish before his hands push you down, forcing your body to slide deeper onto the dildo. you gasp, eyes widening as the toy sinks so deep inside you that it steals the air from your lungs, making you feel it so deep inside you. your hands fly to his chest, gripping his shirt tightly as you tremble against him, the fullness making it impossible to move.

your head falls forward onto his chest, whimpering as your body starts to shake. the pressure is unbearable, the dildo pressing so deep inside you that it makes your whole body seize up. and then he presses you down even further, his hands now gripping your hips, pushing you until the toy is buried to the hilt, the balls of the toy pressed on your clit, you lose it.

“CHEOL! i’m—oh my go-o-d,” you cry out, your whole body convulsing as your orgasm hits, this one even harder than any other. your hands claw at his shirt, your face pressed against his chest as you cum, trembling uncontrollably. you can’t think, can’t breathe, and he holds you through it, keeping you pinned down, making sure you feel every second of it.

he doesn’t say a word, just watches you with that hungry look in his eyes, his hands never leaving your hips as your body shakes against him.

the pleasure finally start to ebb, and you’re left panting, your body slumping against him, completely spent.

he lifts your face gently, his fingers under your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “look at me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your lips, and before you can react, he’s kissing you, desperate, all tongues and messy breaths. the taste of him fills your senses, his lips devouring yours, his hands sliding up your body to cup your face.

the kiss is all heat, your head spinning as you melt into him, moaning into his mouth as his tongue tangles with yours. he pulls away just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. “you’re so fucking perfect, you know that?”

you can barely respond, still lost in the fog, but then he’s pulling you up, guiding you to the edge of the bed. your knees hit the floor as he bends you over the corner, your chest pressed into the mattress, and you can feel him behind you, his hands gripping your hips as he positions himself.

“can i baby? can i?” he growls, and you nod weakly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you brace yourself. he presses the tip of his cock against your entrance, and the second he starts to push inside, you gasp, your hands clutching at the sheets. he’s so much thicker than the toy, so much warmer, so much real.

“fuck, cheol… it’s so… so big,” you moan, your voice shaky, and he chuckles darkly, his hands tightening on your hips as he pushes deeper.

“you can take it, pretty,” he mutters, his voice strained. “look at how well you’re taking me already, fuck… you’re so wet. such a perfect pussy,”

you can feel every inch of him, the way he pushes you open, the heat of his cock filling you in a way that’s completely different from the toy. the fullness making your head spin, but it feels so fucking good at the same time.

he starts to move, slow at first, letting you adjust to the thickness of him, but soon he’s fucking you harder, each thrust making your body yank forward, your moans getting louder with every snap of his hips.

and then he reaches behind him, grabbing the dildo, and you feel his hand slide around to your face. “open your mouth,” he orders, and you obey, your lips parting as he presses the toy against them. “suck on it.”

you moan around the toy as he slides it into your mouth, the taste of the lube mixed with your own slick coating your tongue. the act of it is so filthy, so wrong, but it turns you on even more, the feeling of his cock fucking you from behind while you suck on the dildo making your whole body burn.

“that’s it, baby, just like that,” he groans, his voice thick with lust. “fuck, you’re so fucking hot… i can’t believe how good you look right now, sucking on that while i fuck you.”

your eyes roll back as he fucks you harder, the sound of your moans muffled by the toy in your mouth. the way he’s talking to you, the dirty words spilling from his lips, makes your whole body tingle with arousal.

“you like this, huh? you like being fucked like this?” he growls, his pace quickening, his cock slamming into you with each thrust. “i bet you’d love to have my cock in your mouth instead, wouldn’t you? bet you’d choke on it, make those pretty little sounds for me.”

you whimper around the dildo, nodding weakly, your body shaking with pleasure as he fucks you harder, deeper. the pressure is building again, that familiar heat pooling in your core, and you know you’re close, so fucking close.

“gonna cum again, huh?” he grunts, his voice tight. “fuck, i can feel it. you’re so close, baby. just let go. let go f'me...”

your body spasms violently, and you barely register the way your throat tightens around the dildo as he pushes it deeper. for a moment, everything goes hazy—your head spinning from the overstimulation, your knees shaking beneath you. the sensation of being so full, of having him inside you while the dildo stretches your throat, sends you into a dizzying spiral, leaving you shaking.

your face falls onto the mattress, your body too weak to hold you up anymore. you can feel him pulling out of you, the sudden emptiness making you shiver, and then he moans—and you hear the sound of his cum, warm and wet against the floor.

he pulls the dildo from your mouth, and you gasp for air, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. your throat feels raw, hoarse from the way you had been gagging around the toy, but you can’t even focus on that, still reeling from the power of your orgasm. your throat burning from how deep the dildo had gone.

he’s still kneeling behind you, his hands resting on your hips as he leans forward, his breath hot against the back of your neck. “you’re so fucking hot,” he murmurs. “you should’ve seen yourself, baby. you looked so fucking good riding that dildo like that... i cant wait to see you riding me, real, real.”

you shudder at his words, a faint whimper escaping your lips. your body is still trembling, you feel weak and shaky, but the way he’s talking to you—so dirty—it makes your head spin all over again. his hands sliding up your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, his hands sliding down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “i want you to be that horny for me all the time. i want you to think about this every time you touch yourself from now on.”

you groan, burying your face deeper into the mattress, your heart pounding in your chest. he pulls back slightly, his fingers gently tugging at your hair until you turn your head to look up at him. you close your eyes, your breath still coming in shallow gasps as you try to calm down.

“cheol…” you whisper, your voice hoarse, “i don’t… i don’t think i can move…”

he chuckles softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back. “you don’t have to move, baby,” he says, his voice gentle now, softer than before. “just relax. you did so good for me… just rest.”

you nod weakly, him putting you fully on the bed so you can lay fully, your body sinking into the mattress.

“you okay?” he asks quietly after a few minutes, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.

you nod again, your voice barely above a whisper. “yeah… just… tired.”

he smiles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple. “good. you deserve to rest after that.” he stays close, his warmth comforting against your skin, and you feel his lips curl into a smile against your forehead. it feels so fucking good. and you know, deep down, that this won’t be the last time something like this happens.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

★ matt loves talking you through it ★

“there’s my good girl.”

matt’s sweet voice filled the air in his bedroom as he stared down at you from where he was propped on his elbow next to you, eyes locked on your face while his fingers moved inside you.

you were fully naked on his bed, legs spread wide for him to have easy access to your drooling pussy. he loved the way you surrendered your body to him, letting him have full access to you whenever he wanted, knowing he’d do everything he could just to see your pretty face twisted up in pleasure.

matt’s two middle fingers slid in and out of you languidly as to drag out the feeling as opposed to rushing it and getting you off as quickly as possible. matt liked to take his time, liked to listen to you for as long as you’d let him until you got too antsy and were begging him to make you cum.

“does it feel good?” he asked you in almost a coo, smiling when your head nodded quickly. your eyes were clenched shut and your hands gripped at the sheets beneath you, the only sound leaving your lips being a trail of whimpers with every exhale. “use your words, baby. you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“don’t stop,” you rasp out instantly, reaching one of your hands up to grab onto his shirt. you turn your head to face him and open your eyes as much as you can, locking onto his bright blue ones that were already on you. “please don’t stop, feels so good.”

“hmm, I dunno, i’m not convinced,” matt hums, slowing the movement of his fingers. “no!” you cry, grinding your hips down onto the digits buried deep inside you. “please, matt, need to cum.”

“that’s better,” matt grins at your desperation, feeling his stomach coil at the way your pretty voice begged him to continue. the sound of you pleading for him to do absolutely anything was something he could listen to forever.

he picked up the pace of his fingers again, drinking in the way your moans picked back up. “you’re doing so well, baby, sound so pretty.” matt lets his gaze wander to where your bodies connect, listening to the sound of your pussy squelching every time his fingers drew in and out of you.

“fuuuck,” he groans hungrily. “she’s so wet for me, baby. you love my fingers inside of you this much?”

your eyelids have fluttered shut again, unable to stay open as your tummy started to tighten and your toes began to curl. “come on, angel, you know better. answer me.” matt’s voice makes you groan, the deep tone he adopts sending a shiver down your spine.

“y-yes, I love your fingers!” you cry out, back arching as his thumb moved to rub on your clit, sliding around the nub in circles easily from how soaked you were. “love a-anything you give me, matt, thank you.”

“good girl,” matt croons. “you wanna cum for me, baby? you’re so close, pretty girl, can feel you squeezin’ my fingers so tight. all y’gotta do is ask and i’ll get you there.”

you let out a loud string of whines as you nodded your head again, knowing he wanted to hear you speak but staying quiet since you loved the way he demanded it from you.

matt fully removed his fingers from you and brought his hand up to your face, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him. your eyes cracked open once more to see him staring down at you expectantly, knowing you knew better.

his fingers spread your wetness on your jaw and chin as he gripped onto you tightly, fingers so close you could smell the scent of pure arousal filling your senses. “please make me cum,” you whimpered out, parting your lips slightly as his thumb dragged over them. “please, matt, i’ve been so good.”

matt grins at your request and slips his thumb into your mouth for a moment before moving his hand back between your legs, dragging the pads of his fingers over your clit gently. “always gotta give my girl what she wants, hm?”

after he speaks, he slips his fingers back inside you and fucks them in and out at a pace faster than before, ripping loud moans out of your parted, pouty lips, your back arching off of the bed.

“go ahead, baby, I got you. wanna feel you cum around my fingers. that’s my pretty girl, let go for me, yeah? there you go.” matt’s voice spoke softly in your ear as his words tipped you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you intensely, legs slamming shut around matt’s wrist.

“fuck!” you shriek, body trembling from the climax that wracked through you, his fingers inside you still coaxing out the remnants.

matt’s face ducked down to press gentle kisses into your jaw as you tried to catch your breath, chest rising and falling quickly. “good job,” he praises quietly, sliding his fingers out of you so he could drag his hand up your stomach, once again spreading your fluids on your skin. “love making you cum like that, watching you fall apart from my fingers. so fucking pretty.”

you let out a small sigh mixed with a whine at his words, turning your face to meet his lips with your own. he kisses you back sweetly, pulling away after a few seconds to let you keep catching your breath.

“thanks, daddy,” you say in a teasing voice and matt can’t help but laugh, though he shakes his head and pushes himself down the bed slowly. “gonna eat you out til you’re crying now, okay?”

you were never one to refuse.

dedicated to @strnilolover

[piroulinewafers]

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞-𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: caleb x fem! reader 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: caleb cuts her steak into perfect little bites, because loving her means fussing over everything.

caleb had gone all out.

he wasn’t just trying to impress her—though, if he was honest, he loved the way she’d looked around the dining room with those wide, doe eyes, her small hand tightening around his sleeve like she didn’t quite belong there. that wasn’t true, of course. In caleb’s eyes, she belonged everywhere good. and tonight, he was going to make sure she remembered that.

the restaurant was absurdly fancy. all crystal chandeliers and velvet-backed chairs, the kind of place with quiet violin music and waiters who looked like they’d trained at royal courts. but caleb didn’t blink. he'd walked in like he owned the place, his hand on the small of her back, keeping her close.

“i got us the best seat,” he murmured into her ear, guiding her to a candlelit booth tucked in the corner with a perfect view of the city skyline. “you like it?”

she nodded, too shy to say much, but the smile tugging at her lips was enough. She was wearing a dress he’d picked out—just for tonight—something soft and flattering, something that made her look like she belonged in that glitzy world. he hadn’t stopped looking at her since they left the apartment.

when the waiter came around, caleb didn’t even let her glance at the prices.

“she’ll have the pepper crusted ribeye—medium. oh, and you said you wanted those mashed potatoes on the side too, hm?” he said smoothly, eyes locked on the poor man like he was delivering state secrets. “i do hope you remember our earlier conversation as well, yes?”

the waiter blinked. nodded quickly. disappeared.

of course, she didn’t need to know that he had personally gone out of his way to tell the chef to make sure her order was perfect, that if any sort of food she didn’t like so much as touched her plate, he’d personally have his subordinates deal with the staff. he knew it was too much, but for her? he didn’t care at all. 

she let out a little, awkward laugh behind her hand. “gege… i think you scared him off…”

caleb just propped his elbow on the table, a lazy smile on his face as he admired her, chin in the palm of his hand. “he looked like the sorta guy who would try to sneak in a green bean. i don’t trust him.”

“and if you wanna milkshake after this,” he said, casually straightening his fork, “i’ll get you every flavour they’ve got, line ‘em up like a tastin' platter.”

her eyes widened. “you don’t have to do all of that!” 

he gave her a lopsided grin. “but i wanna.” 

dinner arrived like a work of art—her steak plated just right, mashed potatoes like clouds, everything perfectly arranged with not a green thing in sight. but before she could reach for her fork, caleb slid out of his seat and came over to her side.

“let me,” he said, kneeling just a bit, nudging gently into her side like he always did when they were kids and he wanted her attention. he took the steak knife and cut slow, precise slices, turning the plate just so she could reach the best pieces first.

“don’t want you messin’ up your dress,” he murmured, nudging the fork into her hand with a smile. “or chokin’ on a big bite. can’t have that. not when I finally got you to wear this pretty thing.”

“i-i’m not clumsy… you’re treating me like a child, caleb…” she huffed, cheeks warm with the teetering of a pout on her face.

he could only chuckle as he turned his attention to her plate, angling it so that the steak faced him better. the knife in his hand caught the candlelight, bright against the dark grain of the meat. he pressed the blade in gently, slicing down in a slow, practiced motion. not too fast. he didn’t want to tear the sear. he wanted every bite to be perfect. she deserved perfect. 

one by one, the cuts came, clean and precise. he was quiet as he worked, brows furrowed in a deep focus, like this was the most important thing he’d done all week. and maybe it was. not the mission reports piling back in his office. not the simulation drills scheduled for the early morning. this— making sure her steak was easy to eat, tidy, manageable— felt far more urgent. 

she was watching him with a half-embarrassed, half-affectionate sort of expression, her fingers curled loosely in her lap, shoulders drawn in as though she was trying to shrink under the weight of his attention. but she wasn’t stopping him. letting him do what he always did— fuss, hover, take care of her like it was what he was put on this earth to do. 

“you always do this,” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “people are staring.”

“let them,” caleb said without looking up. he carefully wiped the edge of the blade with a napkin before setting it down. “you think i care what anyone thinks?”

her face went warm again, and he smiled, satisfied. 

he reached for her fork next— then hesitated. 

just for a moment, he imagined it.

her sitting there, eyes wide and lashes fluttering, while he held the fork up to her lips. feeding her like she was royalty, and he was just some devoted knight, kneeling at her feet, simply grateful just to be close. maybe she’d laugh, duck her head, say he was being ridiculous. maybe she’d roll her eyes, open her mouth anyway. trust him enough to let him care in that quiet, intimate way.

the thought made his heart twist. but he didn’t do it. not yet. 

instead, he placed the fork neatly beside her plate and leaning in, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “there, cut into perfect little bites. princess sized.”

“i’m not a kid, caleb.”

“no,” he said with a soft grin. “but you’re mine to fuss over. that part’s never changing.” 

she gave a huff of exasperation, stabbing a piece of steak with more force than necessary— but she was smiling, trying not to show it. 

he looked up at her then, still crouched beside her chair, one knee on the floor, and something in his chest ached at how sweet she looked in the candlelight. like something soft and golden. like the girl who used to fall asleep on his shoulder after too many cartoons, still somehow his, even here, in this glittering palace of a restaurant.

“you like it?” he asked quietly, not the food, but everything. the night. him.

she nodded. “i do.”

caleb could only grin, taking a piece of her steak and popping it into his mouth, before he settled back into his seat, heart full and warm.

for her? he’d do this every night. he didn’t care how much it cost, every cent of his belonged to her.

and when he had nothing? he would still be wholly hers, completely. 

a/n: i've been strangely motivated as of late... we'll see how long this lasts... in the meantime, i've opened requests for those who are interested ^^

[ilikemenolderthanmyfather]

———————————————————————————————————

AN OLD TOY

———————————————————————————————————

Joel Miller x F!Reader

18+ !!MDNI!!

Warning:insecurities(Joel is getting old), rough sex, dubious consent, pet names, strong language and violence, male receiving, female receiving, bondage, cowgirl style, overstimulating, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, Joel is a whimperer, kidnapping(twice in the same day), forced marriage? Joel belly mentioned, enemies to lovers ish? Reader’s appearance, age and name is not mentioned or specified. Joel is a dildo. Joel is a survivor!

Summary: Joel gets kidnapped and used like a toy, and best of all, he gets the save a hoarse ride a cowboy treatment.

Words: 3K

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He was surrounded by seven men, all pointing their guns in his direction. Joel knew better than to try and fight back, he’d get a punch in, only to get shot down. That’s not what he needs right now, he needs to get back to Jackson and back to Ellie.

One of the men asked for his name, a common courtesy, too courtesy for this situation if you asked Joel, but he entertained the idea, why not? If he was gonna go out, or take them out, they’ll know to leave him the hell alone next time.

Two others stepped out of the way slightly and you walked past them, now standing only a couple of feet away from Joel.

He looked you up down, a slight glare on his face as he spoke “I don’t want trouble.”

You chuckled at that, “Oh but I do.”

He raised a brow at your words and was about to question you when he was suddenly grabbed by two of the men, holding Joel tightly as a grunt left him.

“Then what the hell do you want lady?!”, Joel questioned you with a bit more anger than intended and a sly smile spread across your face.

“A toy”

Joel stopped struggling as he looked up at you with wide yet concerned eyes. In his knowledge that could either mean a test subject where he’d get cut open or a damn slave, neither being good in this world.

He scoffed and struggling slightly against the two, “Well in that case ya can just shoot me, I ain’t becoming some damn lab rat!”

You stared at him and smirked “Oh you think you have a choice, mister Miller?”

You look at the men holding him “Drag him back to base, and don’t speak to my father about this, this is just between us and then I’ll make sure you’ll all get double your salary.”

They immediately pulled Joel along as he struggled against them, an accessional jab from a barrel of the rifle, putting him in his place.

After walking through the woods for what felt like an hour to Joel, they arrived at a very small base, the fences were high, a few houses could be seen.

You all walk in and the men holding Joel looked at you expectedly. Your eyes met Joel’s uncertain eyes for a second before looking at the men holding him.

“Take him to my room.” was all you said before walking away.

Meanwhile Joel was staring to rethink on those options that he had made, maybe he was wrong as he was pushed into a somewhat a building and finally into your bedroom.

In his shock and daze he was pushed to the ground and left there before the men walked out with mocking laughter.

Joel looked at the now locked door, his hands searching for any weapons, knives, anything that could help him out but it was already confiscated from him.

He stood there in silence as he looked closely at the bed and saw handcuffs on the headboard, his eyes wide with suspicion and questions.

Joel walked closer and in his distracted state did not hear or see you walk in the room.

He slowly turned around with a scowl before two hands pushed against his chest as the back of his legs gave in against the bed. Before he could push back, his wrists were cuffed against the headboard.

He looked up at you with a wide eyes “The fuc-?!”

You shushed him, “Don’t worry I’m not gonna go rough on you…..too much, you’re old.”

Joel scoffed a bit, "Hm, what are you gonna do with me? Whatever you do, can't be any worse than some of the stuff I've been through."

You chuckled, “Well eh, I’m pretty sure you’ve never been through this before.”

He looked back at his cuffed wrists before glaring back at you, awaiting an explanation.

You sighed and sat back onto his thighs, “You see, I’m very needy and like I said, I need a toy and I’m not gonna stop until you either give out or your dick falls off.”

You traced your finger along his jacket as his eyes went wide at your crude words, with slight horror and something else he wasn’t gonna admit out loud, arousal but especially concern.

Joel wasn’t your standard young man anymore, even he came to accept it. He wasn’t gonna complain about it. He can’t even remember the last time he had taken the time to touch himself, maybe once or twice if he wasn’t on edge from almost getting killed but this was way out of his range and capabilities, as embarrassing as it was to admit.

Joel gathered his thoughts, “Wait wait wait wait-" He tugged at the cuffs a bit, trying to struggle against them, but the cuffs were on pretty tightly. “I-I don’t think I can, sweetheart.”

You smiled “Oh come on, you’re a man with experience!”

He shook his head, “Not to mention, old. I can’t even…get it up right” , he admitted with embarrassment.

You laughed as he looked away “Just take what I give, mister Miller, can I call you Joel? I’m gonna call you Joel, mister Miller seems too formal for what I’m gonna do to you.”

He laid his head back into the pillow with concern. You immediately undid his belt that was pushing against his belly before pulling down his pants and underwear, his shoes going down with em.

A gasp left him as the air hit his bare lower body. You slowly spread his legs and Joel immediately closed them with a small glare. You glared back “Be good Joel or I’ll shoot your dick off instead, take a pick.”

He grew slightly worried and spread his thighs reluctantly. You smiled and gave his inner thigh a kiss “See that wasn’t so hard”

His cock stirred up slightly from your attention, cursing to himself. Your hand slowly wrapped around him, slowly moving up and down as short breaths left him.

Joel’s eyes shot wide open as a loud gasp left his mouth when you suddenly took him in all the way, your lips pressing against the hair at the base of his cock. Your mouth sucked him hard and his cock quickly grew stiff with the new found attention.

He could only watch with wide eyes as you sucked him like a damn straw, little whines of protest leaving his mouth, too much and too fast.

You smiled and started moving your head up and down, drool dripping past your lips and onto his hairs as filthy sounds of your slurping, filled the room.

His eyes watched your every move, he’s never felt this hot and filthy at the same time. You kept your focus on your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you’re wetting his dick as much as possible.

Joel couldn’t even remember the last time he got head, yes he had a few sucks here and there from ex’s but that was it. They always expected him to do the work, not that he minded it, he liked being in control and controlling the pace.

His ex wife wouldn’t even suck him off though, unless he ask and begged her nicely, only getting a few tugs at his dick before he had to do all the work. Thats how it’s always been, doing all the work and then being ungrateful for it, leaving him on the edge like that as he quietly tugs at himself to relieve some of the pressure.

But he wasn’t that young champ anymore. For crying out loud he can’t even last more than one round anymore when he’s by himself. If his younger self was here, he’d probably laugh at how easy he has become.

A tight suck around his tip, made him snap out of his thoughts and threw his head back while his hips thrusted up to get more of your sweet lips.

You glared at his distracted gaze, hollowing around his sensitive tip as another gasp left his trembling body “O-Oh shit!”

You groaned around him, the vibrations tingling his lower belly before you pulled away “You focus on me, only me, Joel”

He looked at you with slight disappointment and arousal, not saying anything as he breathed heavily.

You scoffed before taking off your clothes, if Joel wasn’t hard before, then he’s definitely hard now. He could only ogle at your form before looking away in shame, truly pathetic what a perverted old man he’s become.

Your fingers quickly unzipped his jacket and opened it “I should have probably taken your clothes off before hand, meh, doesn’t matter now.”

Slowly you pulled his shirt up, making sure to drag your hand over Joel’s soft belly and chest as he shivered. As soon as his shirt was rolled up to his neck, you leaned down and kissed his lower stomach, slowly making your way up as your other hand pulled on his dick.

He could only watch with half lidded eyes, his insecurities taking over as you gently kissed him, small breaths leaving his lips as Joel closed his eyes, his hips jerking against your tugging.

You lined yourself up with him, your dripping pussy swallowing him in with ease. Joel watched as you slowly lowered yourself down on him, a deep groan leaving his lips.

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you take him all the way, your clit rubbing against his hairs “So good~mmm” your eyebrows pulled together in concentration as you focused on his cock, pushing against every spongy part inside of you, just right.

Joel watched you closely, his hips rocking slightly, trying hard not to just give in and fuck up into you.

You slowly dragged your hips back and forth, trying to catch a pace. Soon enough your slow grinding turned into a full on bounce of desperation for some relief as you moaned out softly “Joel!~”

Joel on the other hand was clenching his teeth and pulling on his restraints as groans fell from his lips, his eyes shut tightly as your slick walls sucked him in deep. “S-shit sweetheart! Oh, Oh wait~! Oh!”

He threw his head back and planted his feet into the sheets as his hips started thrusting up into your clenching pussy.

A surprised gasp left your throat as the thrusting from his hips and the grinding of your clit, quickly made you reach your peak. Your body shuddered as you clenched around him.

Joel groaned softly as he pumped his warm cum into you, a breathless sigh leaving his lips as his legs gave out and laid flat against the bed.

His eyes were shut tightly and breathed softly as tiredness started creeping into his old body.

Suddenly a continuous rise and fall of your hips made his eyes snap open and a whine of protest left his lips. You shushed him and gave him a displeased look before going back to ridding him.

Joel breathed heavily as your walks worked his now sensitive cock, his tip twitching in pleasure as you continue to use him like a toy.

“Fuck sweetheart! I can’t! I-Oh~oh” Joel could only lay there and take it as you moaned out his name.

Your ass grinds against his tightening balls as his tip pushes against your womb and a white ring forming at the base of his cock. He looked at you with concern and pleasure, feeling his lower belly tightening up again, sweat falling from the crook of his eyebrow.

He moaned out softly as he shot out another warm load. You whine softly as you grind against him at a new angle, working him through his orgasm as his started tugging on the cuffs in protest, overstimulation taking over slowly.

You however ignored him and continued to bounce on him continuously, his limp cock twitching in protest as Joel whined out, “Please have mercy!”

You quickened your pace, head thrown back “Joel~oh yes, one more, give me one more!~” your swollen clit being rubbed by his hair perfectly as your lower stomach tightened up, Joel could only shake his head in protest as his cock hardened again.

His tip splurged small drops of what he had left and looked at you with a begging expression. You groaned and slammed your hips tightly against him, his hairs tickling your clit as his balls tighten up against his wishes, his frame trembling at the stimulation.

Your grinding became more harsh as you neared your orgasm once more, soft moans of his name falling from your lips as his cock is pushing in deeper, a breathless moan falls from his lip as his balls emptied out and shot thick warm cum into you once more.

You work him through his orgasm as you threw your head back in bless before tightening around him harshly, a whine falling from his lips as you work yourself through your orgasm.

The roll of your hips came to an agonizingly slow stop as you looked down at him.

You both started at each other in silence, a tired, half lidded look on his face. You leaned down and kissed him gently, a kiss he desperately returned as his hips twitched against you.

You took that as a sign to continue and started bouncing your hips again, Joel shook his head in protest “Fuck! No no please, ah~ no wait! Use my face but fuck! Please I can’t it hurts” he admitted with a small pleading look.

You stared at him for a moment before pulling off him, a groan leaving his lips. You place your thighs on either side of his head before lowering onto his mouth that gladly started sucking on your puffy clit.

You let out a shaky breath and held his hair with your hands, his facial hair tickling against you.

His tongue quickly made its way into you, slurping and curling against all the right places. He looked up at you with focus and determination as you neared your peak again, your walls tightened around his tongue that seemed to have suddenly sped up and curled against that sweet spot inside you.

His nose pushed against your puffy nub continuously as your legs started shaking “O-oh yes, Yes Joel!~”

His groan only added to the pressure before you curled up and rode out your orgasm. He worked you through it slowly before you pulled away.

Joel watched you get off the bed with slightly shaky legs, you walked into the bathroom and started filling up the tub. Joel only laid there in utter shock and bless as tiredness started creeping in.

Suddenly you walked back out and took something out of the drawer before walking towards him. He looked at you with tired eyes as you suddenly start to open the cuffs.

“No sneaky shit” you gave him a warning before he sat up with a grunt, rubbing his wrists slightly as he looked up at you with those innocent puppy brown eyes.

You sighed and walked into the bathroom, a slight signal for him to follow. He took off his shirt and jacket, following after you with a slight limp in his walk.

His eyes fell on you sitting in a bathtub, he suddenly became a little self conscious when you looked at him.

You voiced cut through the silence, “Well get in while the water is still warm.”

Joel just gave a nod and got in and sat between your thighs. You stare at his back for a second and he leaned back slowly but suddenly stopped, you glared “Don’t you dare-“ before you could finish, Joel suddenly knocked out you with the back of his head.

Joel quickly bathed and felt bad and quickly washed you before draining the water. He hurriedly dried himself off and got dressed.

He stared at you, still very much knocked out and sighed softly. Maybe it won’t be too bad having company when he gets back to Jackson. Besides Ellie has been bothering him for years about getting a girlfriend, “Teenagers” he scoffed softly with a smile before it turned into a smirk.

You slowly woke up on a bed far more softer than the one you’ve grown use to. A grunt left your lips and placed your hands on your head where Joel had head budded you.

Your eyes snap open “That son of a-where the fuck am I?” You looked around the cozy yet unfamiliar room. You quickly got up from the bed and stumbled towards a window, your eyes going wide when you read the sign [Welcome to Jackson].

Your eyes snapped open in horror “Fucking Jackson?!” Suddenly a familiar voice could be heard as Joel walked into the room “Nice huh?”

You glared at his smirking face “I’m gonna-“ Joel shushed her “Now now, you ain’t back home and unfortunately for you I got many…..I have friends here in Jackson and they’ll shoot without needing to be asked, so be nice sweetheart.”

You scoffed and clenched your fists onto the jacket that you woke up in, your eyes glanced down at it, realizing it was his.

Your body turned to look out the window with a look of disbelief and crossed your arms. Joel walked closer and wrapped an arm around your middle gently. You sighed softly “You are such an ass, so what now?”

Joel smiled “Says you” you looked at him and he just shrugged and stared out the window “Well I kinda told everyone you’re my girlfriend…and that we’re getting married soon so if ye try and run away, they’ll think you’re ill and will bring ya back to me”

You slowly turned your head to look at him, he looked at you and gave you a smile.

“YOU SON OF A B-!”

Meanwhile Ellie and Dina looked at Joel and you through the window. Dina smiled with a concerned look “I’m happy that Joel finally found someone, but eh, if you ask me that’s a lot of slapping coming from her.” Ellie shrugged “Well from the magazines I’ve found in his closet, he might just be into that.”

[applecour]

IS THIS LOVE? ( 夏以昼. )

18+ content / smut, mdni—stalker!reader, fem!reader, sub!reader, dom!caleb, reader is crazy & caleb matches her freak, reader has electricity evol, dubcon, throatfucking, cum eating, caleb being ooc probs, not proofread >.<

you can’t help it that you love him so much! you want to know everything about him and would do anything to know him better.

and that’s why you find yourself in front of his dorm room, your finger surging with electricity as it brushes against the locked keypad making the lock to shift open.

you immediately barge into the sweet sanctuary that is your love’s room and dive into his perfect and pristinely made bed, rubbing your face against his pillow and inhaling deeply. it’s so fucking intoxicating and it’s making your body shake with arousal. you’ve been fantasizing for weeks about what you would do in his room and now that you’re actually here, it’s all just so overwhelming.

but electric beeping outside makes your heart sink as you almost panic, quickly throwing yourself under his bed, scrapping your elbows and knee in the process but luckily made it out of sight when you hear the creak of the door opening.

the silence is agonizing; you hold your breath and see caleb’s military boots walk to his desk and then his bed before he walks towards the door again. saliva is building up in your mouth as you are too scared to even swallow and make a sound.

the air is ripped from your lungs as an invisible force grabs your legs and pulls you out from under the bed and throws you on top of it. you almost scream out of surprise but the same force is smothering your mouth and pinning your body against the mattress.

you squirm against the force until you feel a warm hand press against your neck. you look up and see caleb looking at you with a disdained expression. even now, all you can think about is how handsome he is— you’ve never seen him this close before and it makes your core ache.

“i’m quite surprised you pulled something this bold… after all, you’ve followed and watched me from afar for so long, right, Y/N?”

he knows your name name? you think to yourself, a content smile spreading across your face. it makes you so happy you could just die right now.

the hand on your neck slowly moves down your body; you watch as his fingertips go through the valley of your chest as it rises and falls, watch as his fingers play with the waistband of your skirt, and watch even more intently as he flips your skirt up, exposing the wetness soaking your lace panties.

“hm, what’s this?”

the force covering your mouth dissipates slowly and you lick your lips in anticipation, “i-i like you,” you whine pathetically, “just like you so much.”

he laughs, and smiles at you with eyes full of pity and fake sympathy. this is better than any dream you’ve ever had, “i can see that, baby,” caleb coos, his fingers now barely grazing against your thigh, stopping right before where you need him most and it makes you whine again, desperately. “god, you don’t have a single ounce of shame in that greedy body, do ya?

you nod madly, “yes, caleb… need you so bad.”

you hear him scoff before you feel his fingers trace up and down on the outside of your core through your panties. his index finger hooks the thin covering and he pushes his middle finger into your heat down to the first knuckle; he groans at the tight, warm, and wet feeling enveloping his skin.

“need it? but… do you deserve it?” he pulls his hand back and brings it to his mouth, softly sucking on his finger pad. it’s delicious— you’re delicious.

he can’t help but feel evil as he laughs at your whining and whimpering about how willing you are to prove to caleb how much you deserve it, deserve him, deserve his touch and affection.

“okay, i’ll let you prove it to me: you’re gonna suck my dick and i’ll decide if you deserve more.”

the immense pressure that once held down your entire body is lifted and you eagerly sit up, your hands immediately reaching out to unzip his pants until he slaps them away with the back of his hand.

“did i give you the right to touch me?” he scolded you with a dark look in his eyes.

you look at him with a starving expression but you don’t break eye contact as you unbutton and unzip his pants with your teeth. he pulls his jeans down just enough to let his erection spring out from his boxers. it’s so pretty— you feel your mouth watering at the glorious sight.

you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward and deeply inhaling the scent of his sweat and arousal that have seeped through his underwear. you kitten lick the stain making it wetter and larger and your eyes roll at the bitter tang of his pre-cum.

“you gonna actually suck me off or are you just going to cum at the taste of me all by yourself?”

you mumble an apology, readjusting your position so you can take his tip into your drooling mouth. you lick his slit and swirl your tongue around his head, completely savoring his taste. he groans, placing his hand on your shoulder and digs his fingers into it.

slowly, you start to take his length further into your mouth until he reaches the back of your throat— and fuck, only about half of his cock is actually in your mouth. you try to hollow your cheeks and not gag pathetically at the suffocating feeling of his cock entering your airway.

you force yourself further and further down his length until you can feel his short pubes scratch at your nose and cheeks. you honestly don’t notice your nose is almost directly against his happy trail due to every braincell in your dumb head focusing on breathing through your nose. at this point, you honestly feel like you’re floating in heaven (or maybe you’re just light headed from the lack of oxygen…)

“mhm, you’re doing good, so good,” caleb praises, his head thrown back in pleasure. tears begin to prick at your eyes and fall down your cheeks, and he wipes them away with his thumb which he then brings to his lips to lick away.

he forcefully pulls your mouth off his cock and it makes a dirty pwop sound and the noise of your panting fills the room. “i’m gonna fuck your throat now, okay?” he doesn’t wait for your answer (he doesn’t have to; he knows you’re okay with it) as he shoves his cock to the back of your throat.

you gag around his length but you don’t make any effort to stop his rough abuses against your throat, simply letting caleb hold your head in place as he treats your mouth like his personal pocket pussy. drool is dribbling down your chin as you can’t help but groan and moan with his cock stuffed down your throat as the ache in your core is getting more and more unbearable.

you can tell he’s getting close by the erratic pace he’s shoving his length down your throat, and he lets out a loud, whiny moan as shoves your back back into his happy trail as his thick seed spills down your throat, your throat constricting against his cock as you make sure to swallow it all. caleb doesn’t take his cock out of your mouth until he’s softening again, but he hisses in overstimulation when you slurp against it as he pulls out.

“thank you…” you say, your voice hoarse and low, as you nuzzle your forehead against his waist, “i’ll leave now… i’m sorry for bothering you… and following you… you’ll never see me again, i’m so sorry—”

“don’t be sorry, baby, you passed with flying colors.”

[quimichi]

≡;- ꒰ ° Sick fuck... ꒱

TW: NSFW - MDNI, name calling, slight cnc, yeah thats it???

character: Nam-gyu x F!Reader

summary: You pressed 'x' now you'll face the consequences of your actions

word count: 4.724

a/n: look, for some reason, he was my fav, idk why, idk how, its how it is ok???? I can't take myself seriously lol. I rarely write smut, I'm probably HORRIBLE at it, but we need the content for him ok??

Nam-gyu dragged you into the female bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. You try to free yourself from his grasp, but there's no use. "Hey-! HEY-!! For fucks sake guards-! If you don't do shit, why are you even here-!" you keep yelling as he struggles to shove you into a stall.

He shoved you against the cold wall of the stall, pinning your wrists above your head with one large hand. Leaning in close, his black eyes flashed with anger and lust as he growled, "Listen up, you little cock-tease. Next time we vote, yeah? You'll press 'O", understood?" His other hand groped and squeezed your breast roughly through your shirt. "Mmm, but maybe this is what you wanted all along, huh? To get me all worked up and desperate for your tight little body?"

He crashed his lips against yours in a brutal, kiss, biting and sucking on your bottom lip hard enough to make it throb. "Strip," he commanded coldly, releasing your wrists only to start tearing your clothes off yourself. "Now! Before I rip them off and fuck you on this filthy floor." With one quick motion, you slap him across his face. "Fuck you-! I don't even fuckinh know you, so what do you want from me?! I pressed 'X', and?! We keep playing the fucking game anyway!" you shout at him. Nam-gyus eyes flashed with rage as you slapped him hard across the face. The sharp sting of your palm against his cheek made him see red. He grabbed your wrist in a vice-like grip, twisting your arm behind your back and shoving you face-first against the grimy bathroom wall. His body pressed firmly against yours, pinning you in place as he leaned down to growl menacingly in your ear.

"Listen here, you fucking slut," he snarled, his hot breath tickling your neck. "I know for a damn fact the longer we play, the more people wanna press fucking 'x'. And I wanna keep going, so after the next round, the next vote, you'll press 'o'. If you don't, I'll make sure I kill you, and not a fucking game." His rough hands immediately found their way to your tits, groping and kneading the soft flesh harshly as he grinded his hardening bulge against your ass.

"I'll fucking ruin you," Nam-gyu hissed venomously, giving your nipple a sharp twist through the thin lace of your bra. "Scream for help and see if anyone gives a shit. They all probably jerk off to ya. Now, are you going to be a good girl and do as you're told, or do I need to get rougher?" "No-!" you stutter out, "you got your point across-!" You're 90% sure you'll die in the games anyway, after seeing the first you knew you wouldn't survive. Better play along now, than suffer even further with whatever he has planned. If you're lucky, he just did all that to scare you off...at least you hoped so. Playing tough wasn't so easy....

Nam-gyus grip on your wrist loosened slightly as he sensed your submission. He kept you pinned against the wall, his hips still pressed firmly to yours as he leaned in close, his voice a low, threatening rumble.

"Damn right I got my point across, baby," he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "As a reward, we're keeping you save next game, hm? How's that sound?" He slid a hand down to your ass, squeezing the flesh roughly as he grinded his now fully erect cock against your backside. "Now, since you've been a bad girl, I think you deserve to be punished. Lucky you! You'll get both, a reward and a punishment. Aren't I nice?"

Nam-guys other hand slid under the hem of your pants, pulling them down. "Cute, did you know this was my favorite color on you, hm?" he teased, hot breath tickling your ear as he rubbed your clit through the fabric of your panties.

"Sick fuck..." you mumble, more to yourself than for him to actually hear it. Nam-gyu smirked cruelly as he heard your mumbled insult, clearly amused by your feeble attempt at defiance. "Yeah, I'm a sick fuck, but I'm YOUR sick fuck," he taunted, punctuating his words by shoving two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping cunt.

"But you aren't a healthy minded bitch either, look at how wet you are." he chuckled darkly. He pumped his fingers in and out of you roughly, curling them to rub your walls with each thrust. You try to swallow down moans and gasps, but you can't. It feels too good and for some reason...you even enjoy it. He quickly turned you around, shoving your back against the wall. His thumb found your clit and rubbed the sensitive nub hard, making your legs tremble and your pussy clench around his digits.

"Listen to this desperate cunt sucking on my fingers like they're my cock," Nam-gyu laughed mockingly. "You can't get enough, can you? Don't worry, I'm going to give this pussy exactly what it needs."

Having fun never hurt anyone, right? After all, you're a sick fuck too...

[obsesssedblerd]

Either he is utterly clueless, or he’s toying with you because he knows you think he’s attractive. You don’t know which is worse.

Choso, your roommate, walks around the kitchen of your shared apartment, preparing breakfast like he does every other weekend—when he works less hours due to his little brother staying over for a few nights. In the living room, you can hear Yuuji and best friend, Megumi, playing video games together and enjoying the slow Saturday morning. 

You should focus on that and maybe offer to play games with them- No, you should focus on the smell of the food. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, something sweet that’s baking in the oven. However, you don’t focus on any of that, and your feet remain glued to their spot at the kitchen doorway, and your eyes stay locked on your roommate. 

Choso was only wearing sweatpants. You can tell that he was fresh out of a shower. His hair is left down this morning, and you can’t help but think that it looks even better that way, especially with the dark strands of his bangs still falling in front of his face. Then his upper body. Holy shit, his upper body. You knew Choso worked out often, sometimes with Satoru Gojo, but not once have you seen the results of his efforts in the gym this clearly. The muscles in his arms flex as he mixes something in a bowl, and your breath hitches slightly. Your gaze slowly drifts lower, taking in his toned chest, his abs, then settling on where his sweatpants hung loosely on his waist. Fuck.

You finally shake yourself out of it, then tear your eyes away from his body, deciding to look at the table instead. You clear your throat, and the sound of it gets his attention. “Morning,” he greets casually, facing you with his usual small smile. “Sorry if Yuuji and his friend woke you up. Megumi decided to stay the night at the last minute.” 

You smile in return, then shake your head. “Oh, that’s fine.” You walk close to the stove where he’s standing. “I don’t mind Megumi. He’s actually way quieter than the rest of Yuuji’s friends. What are you making in that bowl?” 

“Hm? Oh, this is some icing to go on top of the cinnamon rolls.” He grabs a clean spoon from a drawer, then dips it into the bowl. “I think it needs a bit more vanilla, but I’m not too sure. Could you also try it?” 

You nod, then reach to grab the spoon from him, but because your grip on it wasn’t secure, it nearly slips from your hand, resulting in some of the icing getting on Choso’s finger. You both laugh it off, then you sample the icing. 

As you’re tasting it, you see Choso checking on the bacon sizzling in a skillet. Then, he lifts his hand to his mouth that you’ve definitely stared at many times before. A split second before his lips close around his finger with the icing on it, you catch his tongue dart out to lick the icing. Then, he sucks it clean, releasing it with a light smacking sound. You nearly stop breathing. It’s so simple, so innocent, but it’s so damn–

“What do you think?” He asks as he heads over to the sink to wash his hands. 

“...Huh?” 

He looks at you, then points to the spoon in your hand. “The icing. What do you think?” 

Oh. That. 

Heat rises to your face, and you mask your sudden nervousness quickly. “You’re right. Just a touch more vanilla. I think a teaspoon will be perfect.” 

“Okay, thanks. I remember making it before, and…” Choso continues talking about the icing, but your brain tunes it out when you stare at him again. He was so attractive that it wasn’t fair. You’re certain that you’ve never wanted anyone this bad before. You promised yourself on the day you moved in that you wouldn’t fall for him. He worked a lot, and when he wasn’t working, he was a caring older brother to Yuuji. You assumed that he barely had time for anything else.

“Hey.” 

His low voice snaps you back to reality, and embarrassment creeps into your gut. “What was that? I’m sorry for being spaced out. I barely got any sleep last night,” you lie. 

You think he sees right through it, because he’s stepping closer to where you’re leaning against the counter. He places his hands on either side of the countertop, trapping you in between his arms—directly in front of him and nowhere to go. Your heart begins to race as he leans closer to you, the faint, fresh scent of his body wash filling your nose. The corner of his mouth slightly lifts, and the look in his dark eyes gives it away. 

He’s amused. 

“I asked if you could grab a bowl from the cabinet behind you so I could put the eggs in it,” he says quietly. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a soft exhale. “No problem.” You turn around carefully, then lift your arm to open the cabinet, trying to pretend that you don’t literally feel him behind you. You grab a medium-sized bowl. “This one okay?” 

There’s silence, then you feel Choso’s gentle touch. His large hand holds your waist, and his other arm reaches up towards the shelf you took the bowl from, grabbing another one that was a bit larger. 

“I was thinking that this one would be better,” he whispers into your ear. 

You put the other bowl back before your slippery palm lets it fall, and Choso takes a step back and flashes a smile at you. “Nearly done with the food. Could you let Yuuji and Megumi know?” 

You do your best to hide how flustered you are, and nod. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go grab them. I’ll be back.” 

As you turn to leave the kitchen, you hear his quiet, amused chuckle, eventually drowned out by the sound of him putting some used dishes into the sink. 

Oh, he was definitely toying with you. 

-------

a/n: so do y'all know that one choso fanart of him wearing only sweatpants and making breakfast? yeahhhhhhhhhh

also ik we mostly hc him as being shy (and i love it) but there's something about him being the one doing the teasing.

[porcalinecunt]

𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘!

→ breeding headcanons with blue lock boys (●´ω｀●)

🎧 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐀𝐄, 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑

♟️𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓

𝐜𝐰 — lots of breeding (duh!). reader is afab. overstimulation. rough sex. impregnation. praise kink. size kink. dumbification. cervix fucking (?).

a/n » currently down horrendous for some of the older men in blue lock and i couldn’t help myself at all. not too proud of this one, but i had sm fun writing this nonetheless! anyways, enjoy 🤍

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑

↳ Could never turn down the idea, maybe gets a bit too into it once he’s balls deep. “No more..i can’t..” you croaked out, and he still showed no sign of stopping. His fingertips implanted into your thighs, surely enough to leave bruises. Despite your legs trying to snap shut, his iron grip kept them apart while he continued to fuck away like an animal. “Kaiser!—“ you pleaded, only to feel a harsh slap on your inner thigh before he slowed down, but his thrusts were sudden and stretched you deeper then you could’ve imagined. A slight twitch indicated he was close, burying his cock deeper and deeper till you practically could feel the bulge in your womb.

“I know baby, i know..just wait a little more, you can do that f’me? hm?”

𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄

↳ He always gets what he wants. Always. You clutched the pillow close to your body as you were rocked upwards and muffling out your high pitched mewls, until Sae pulled your hair till your head was back onto his shoulder. “No no, i wanna hear you..” he whispered in your ear, letting you go as he picked up his pace. The feeling of his dick rapidly dragging itself against your walls and inching closer and closer to your cervix drove you beyond stupid. As you babbled incoherent nonsense, Sae groaned at what he was looking at. Your knees buckled and instinctively bringing your knees up to your chest in a fetal position, as he places you in a headlock to keep you still. Distorted giggles and louder moans filled his ears and all the way to his dick.

“Look how good your taking it love. All for me, yeah?”

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐈

↳ A fucking animal when it comes to breeding his s/o. Has you almost bent in half, your legs wide open while he practically jackhammers you like a rabbit in heat. You can’t even moan, only cut off yelps are forced out of your throat. Your caged between his arms, only looking into his lust blown eyes, staring back down at you like your his final meal. Your orgasm reaching closer and closer and he showed no sign of pulling out. “I-Inside..! Pleaase!” you could only wail as Shidou grabbed your hips and was basically pulling you onto his cock. The only thing on his mind was filling you till you were pump and pregnant with his child, his beautiful spouse carrying his baby only drove him over the edge.

“So pretty, so fuckin’ good f’me..can’t get enough of you sweets.”

𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔

↳ That man is a sucker for breeding, whether it gets you pregnant or not. Even better when he could feel your body become more and more weaker as your orgasm closed in on you, allowing him to take control and fuck you dumb onto his cock like a doll. He watched your eyes focus on the bulge in your womb disappear and reappear as his pace quickens till the skin slapping overshadowed your sobs and whines for release. He could cum easily just by staring at you, his dollie starstruck and just in awe from how good their boyfriend’s dick felt deep in them, only getting better by the thought of Oliver stuffing his seed deep into their pussy. Claiming it as his and his only.

“Beg. Beg for it doll, tell me how much you want it. I need to hear it baby, please..”

🎧 this work belongs to @porcalinecunt. reblogs and feedback are appreciated. <3

[softbeej]

Rule Number One (You Gotta Have Fun)

Alastor x Reader Smut. U break his only rule and bother him while hes tryna work. Enjoy. :} Requests open btw.

Alastor had locked himself up in his radio tower for what felt like days. He was truly a workaholic, and loved to be busy. This was fine, except you found yourself actually sort of... missing him?

No sight of him creeping down the hallway or the impending feeling that he was about to catch you doing something prohibited at the hotel. It all felt too empty all of a sudden, and you wished he’d be back down soon, even if just to make you uneasy with that eerie smile.

So, you decided to break the number one rule set by him.

“Under no circumstances is anyone to ever enter the radio tower without my express permission.”

Well, what are rules if not to be broken, right? And that’s where you found yourself, climbing up into the prohibited area.

Ears pressed back, he turned to face you. There was no other way to put it, Alastor was fucking pissed.

You shouldn’t of come up here. You should of listened to his stupid rule, and busied yourself with something else. Maybe you had time to turn around, and pretend you made a wrong turn.

“I trust you have something important for me? Something that would be worth you coming all the way up here without my say so, hm?”

His voice was even more staticky than usual, his tone dripping with sarcasm. You were thinking up a response when he stood up and strode over to you. He jabbed his microphone stand under your jaw, albeit gently, and forced you to look at him.

“Well, deary?”

You only shook your head, hair bouncing on your shoulders.

“Then why, pray tell, are you up here? And use your words this time, yes?”

Within those few words, you suddenly understood why he was so feared. Just from the way he spoke, he could make you feel tiny and stupid.

“I, um, was just wondering where you were, is all...”

“Oh?” He released the microphone stand and you faced the floor again, feeling like a child about to get scolded. “You did know where I was though, didn’t you? So, I’ll ask once more. What brought you up here?”

He had retired back to his chair, and was watching you intently as you squirmed at his questioning. His smile never once left his face.

“You know what, I should go-“

Slam. His shadow had closed the door.

“Has no one ever told you it’s rude to ignore someone, darling? I’m just asking you a simple question, what’s the need for all this attitude? Why are you here?”

Blush rising to your face, you picked at skin around your nails still not wanting to look at his shit eating grin.

“I was bored. Missed you.”

“Ah, there we go! You see how easy that was?”

You nodded, “Can I go now? Sorry for interrupting...”

“Nonsense! You missed me, did you not? You came all the way up here for me, desperate for my attention. Well, dear, my attention you have got. Come, sit, sit.” He patted his thigh.

Oh, how you wished the world would swallow you up right now. But the worst part of this was how turned on you were at his lecturing. You think your reaction was doing the same to him, given the way his ears were perked up and pupils blown.

You walked over to him, gently perching on his knee, before he pulled you down by your waist so you were properly sitting in his lap. He continued working, tapping buttons and twisting dials, as you could only sit there and pray your heart rate would soon go back to normal.

"If I did not know any better, I'd say this encounter has you quite excited, darling! The way your pulse is rising, and not to mention the fact I can smell the arousal on you!" He laughed. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If I had brought out such emotions in you."

Your blood drew hot in shame, he knew.

You nodded and tried to save face, "Yes, Alastor. I'm fine, just- my pulse is high from the walk up here, that's all."

"And if you were to stand up, your answer would be the same, I presume?"

Confused, you cocked your head. He didn't say anything, just wrapped his hands around your waist and stood you up.

There it was, the evidence he was looking for. A wet patch on his thigh. Right from where you were sitting. Your wetness had leaked through your panties, leaving a spot on his dress pants.

“Well, look at this mess. And my best pants, no less! Do you have anything to say for yourself, dear?”

You shook your head, never so embarrassed in your life.

He tutted, "First, you lie about why you came up here. Then you lie about this? Darling, have you no manners? Or am I to teach you them myself, hm?"

His eyes were half lidded now, ears twitching.

"I- uh. I think you need to teach me, Alastor..." You admitted, not able to take your eyes off him.

“Finally! The right answer! You’re getting the hang of this now, eh?” He laughed, and patted his thigh - the one you’d dirtied, “Back up here. May as well see how much more you can ruin them.”

Legs shaking, you stood up and straddled his thigh. He leaned in close, “Now get yourself off. You can do that, yes? If your mewls at night are anything to go by, I’d say you’re to be a natural at this!”

The thought of Alastor hearing you play with yourself through your bedroom door sent shivers down your spine, in a good way. He grabbed your chin, angling your head to face him.

“I said you can do that, yes, dear?”

You nodded, hands reaching up to his shoulders to steady yourself as you started grinding down on his thigh like your life depended on it, maybe it did. You could feel his cock hardening. His hands trailed down your body to your hips where they stayed, helping you slowly ride his thigh.

“Theres a good girl, hm? See what happens when you behave?”

You nodded, breathing heavy, “Uh-huh.”

Alastor nodded, his hips gently bucking up for friction. Your hand went to zipper to help, but he brushed it away.

“This is your lesson. Not mine.” He winked.

So you kept riding his thigh, until your own thighs were weak, and you were close. And he knew it.

“If this were a proper lesson, I wouldn’t allow you to cum. But you’ve been so good, so good for me... You may cum.”

You nodded into the nook of his neck, letting out a pathetic whiny mewl as you came, soddening his pants. From the sound of it, he came too, letting out a staticky grunt that would of hurt your ears if you were paying attention, but you were too busy grinding your way through your climax, as he shushed you gently.

He helped you stand up, your thighs shaking and almost giving out under you. A sharp finger pressed into the stain on his pants, before he collected some of the wetness and licked it off.

“Head off to my bedroom, now, love. Get yourself cleaned up. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

The walk to his bedroom was strange to say the least. Your knees shaking and panties wet, of course Angel was going to say something.

“Christ, you look like you been fucked good, sweets.”

“I have, I think...?”

“Oh yeah? And whose the lucky son of a bitch, huh? He knows not to fuck with you, right?” He winked, ever protective of you.

As if on cue, Alastor appeared, strolling carelessly toward you both. A hand on your shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt, Angel, my dear, but I’m afraid we have something to take care of. If you’ll excuse us...” He guided you away, towards his room.

[yestrday]

— YANDERE! MALEWIFE! GENSHIN AU part one | two | three | four

⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno

introducing ! at the altar decorated by the blooming lotus flowers, your wrist is bound to your husband with a red string and a promise of togetherness. while the people dance and sing in celebration of the newlywed, his eyes are on you and you only— possessive through and through, even in parabandhana.

[ surpriseeeeeeee yea you did not expect this did you yeah neither did I. i just sat on my computer and decided to be productive. also did not include baizhu and mika for now cuz I got lazy. ]

warning ! yandere behavior, drúgging, manipulation, mentions of locking you away and múrder

— ADMONISHING INSTRUCTION. alhaitham | الهيثم

[ “sure, sure, i’ll clean up after you go. hm? i’m not being lazy at all, just enjoying my peace and quiet.”] 

⇢ my boy is living the dream life. no nosy seniors, demanding bosses, and curious co-workers. just him and his hardworking partner and the freedom to do his research at his own time. when you’re around, he tends to slack off (though he denies it) but he does his part of the chores anyway, so you don’t really have any complaints. he’d already been living the cushy life before, but now this lifestyle is more than comfortable.

⇢ he helps you out with your work when he sees you struggling, and he lets you use him as a soundboard to work out solutions. sometimes even lets you complain. keyword: sometimes. most of the time he’ll distract you with a movie or just bring you to the bed so the two of you can read a book together. unfortunately, his tolerance towards whining is very low (reminds him too much of a certain blonde), but he still loves you enough that he’s willing to let your stress out through other means.

⇢ marriage seems to have made him a bit of a romantic, though he’ll tell you that he’s stayed the same as he was when he was still your boyfriend. whenever you’re squinting at your computer screen in frustration, you’ll be caught offguard when he presses a tender kiss to your temple and sets down a mug of coffee next to you. or while you’re talking about something or another as you eat, he’ll clasp your hands in his and press a chaste kiss to each knuckle. these gestures has you blushing and stammering all the time, reverting you back to the naive student you were when you met him. this makes him a bit smug, so you often hit him in embarrassment.

⇢ he would never look down at you. marrying you means he has acknowledged you his equal, and to be fair he doesn’t really have a habit of looking down on others. however, when he sees some pesky flies fly a bit too close, he often gets too full of himself. someone trying to smooth talk you at the cafe? haitham’s not one for pda, but he’ll wrap a sturdy bicep around your waist and watch as the poor thing trembles from his gaze. 

⇢ haitham doesn’t always tell you this, but he admires you for a lot of things. but sometimes you get a bit too… irrational, and he knows that he has to be the one to bring you down sometimes. you’re not a kid, so you should know better. besides, haitham’s always been the more rational between the two of you. sometimes bordering on…heartless, but you never tell him that. you don’t have the heart to.

⇢ he’s often the decision-maker, most of the time not even asking you what you want. he says it’s not about want, he has to take the rational decision for the both of you. you’ve always been a little… dull. it’s an endearing trait, but it’s something that has to go away as you both age. he sees the hurt flash in your eyes when he tells you this, and he thinks he can make up for it with a gentle kiss between your pretty eyes. he loves you like his equal, really, but sometimes (most of the time) you need a good talking down to.

“so you’ll continue to let your brother exploit you, despite everything he’s done to you in the past?” haitham shuts his book and stares at you with a seemingly bored gaze. “you know you don’t need to give them that solicitation, right? he’s not worth it.”

“it– it’s not about him, haitham, believe me!” you plead with him. “i’m, i’m doing this for his wife, okay? she doesn’t deserve to deliver a baby in his dingy apartment with no professionals around. it’s not fair! just because my brother was a díck doesn’t mean she deserves the cold shoulder too! have some compassion for once!” he rolls his eyes and gets up, towering above some good inches. his eyes look down at you, but his hand rests heavy on your shoulder as if trying to calm you down. “it’s not about compassion, dear. it’s about being rational. once your brother sees you softening, he’ll start asking for more and more and more and well, we know what kind of person you are.” you open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head. “you’re too soft, [y. name]. chasing around the affection of others… you don’t have to do that anymore.”

[ “this is for the both of us. i’m sure you can’t tell now, but sooner or later, you’ll thank me.” ]

— EMPYREAN REFLECTION. kaveh | کاوه

[ “you’re the — hic!— the best thing’s that ever happened to me! of– of course i’m crying! i’m not heartless!” ] 

⇢ for kaveh, your marriage was both a blessing and a cause of distress to him. a blessing, of course, because what sane man would not want to get married to you! his darling, light of his life, the one who tolerates his flaws more than any other person on teyvat! but at the same time, he can’t just let you shoulder his burdens! he can’t give you the luxury you deserve to have, you don’t deserve to be saddled with his debt, it’s– it’s just not fair!

⇢ with kaveh’s sense of aesthetics and talent for architecture, you two will have the prettiest home around! it is a must for this architect to gift you with the prettiest home you’ve ever laid eyes on. sure, he can’t give you the grandiose mansion that you deserve even with both of your savings joined, but a master architect will make the most of what he has. this is the place where he’ll make memories with you, where you’ll grow a family and your chi… children (?!??!!!!) will live. it has to be as beautiful as you.

⇢ complains like you’d never believe. he’s always been chatty, but he gets even chattier after a disagreement with a client or a run-in with a certain someone or when he hears whispers of your horrendous workplace. to anyone else, his overdramatic flair might be a bit too much to handle, but you can’t help but listen with amusement as your husband drones on and on and on and embellishing his rants with over-the-top remarks. nevertheless, in the case that you do get weary, just press a kiss on his lips— it will surely leave him an incoherent mess in no time.

⇢ a bit too eager for your praise. it’s not like people don’t praise him all the time, but it’s only your approval that he cares for. when he makes a meal that he’s proud of, he’s squirming nervously in the seat across you as he watches you take bite after bite. when he finished his part of the chores, he tends to be a bit clingy with you as he tries to fish for compliments. it’s your choice to cave in so easily or play around with him, but when you do utter a compliment, know that you’ll be left with a gooey pile of mush cuddling into you.

⇢ on the other hand, kaveh absolutely cannot handle fights with you. fighting is a normal thing between couples, but he gets so absolutely wrecked it’s unreal. your look of disappointment, the glare you gave him, the fed-up sigh when you push him away and say that you need some time away from him… they all drive him insane. he curses himself, wondering why’d he have to go and open his stupid mouth and fuck everything up. you’re not wrong, never wrong, and it should be him to take the blame. the longer the fight, the more his wellness and self-confidence cracks. it’s a common sight to see him groveling on the ground, for your forgiveness, begging for you to notice him again. the sight is so pathetic that you can’t bear to look away.

⇢ the most insecure husband to ever exist and grows even worse with every fight you two might have had in the past. anyone who approaches you has him tensing up and tightening his grip on you, but a raised brow from you has him reluctantly loosening his grip and shamefully looking away. he’s plagued with thoughts of you leaving (because why would you stay with a wreck like him?) and overthinks every friendly gesture you give towards anyone who isn’t him (is that how you smile with someone who isn’t a complete fool?). he’s a pushover and craves your love and attention the most. if you love being an asshole and having someone completely around your finger, there’s no perfect husband to get more than kaveh.

“kaveh…” you start hesitantly, brows furrowed as you put a hand on his shoulder. “kaveh… there’s really no need for you to do all this.” but despite your gentle words, it only makes kaveh flinch and bury his weeping face even more into your chest. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he keeps whispering with a voice ragged from the amount of apologies he’s repeated. “i won’t do it again. whatever i’ve done please just forgive me. i can’t, i can’t stand it!” he looks up at you and that pretty face of his is ruined with tears. “please come back to me. you don’t have to sleep at that inn anymore. i can’t handle you not being with me anymore.” your grip on his shoulder tightens, and your expression seems to twist between a grimace and guilt. the only reason you stayed at an inn was because you were a coward, and you couldn’t handle watching kaveh break down as he beats himself up for a mistake that you caused. this fight was your fault to begin with, but the only one ruined was the innocent one. “i… i forgive you, dear,” you hushedly whisper, with the audacity of a man who did nothing but take advantage. “i forgive you. no matter what you’ve done.” and when he brightens up and smiles so prettily, your heart squeezes in your chest as he pulls you into a kiss sweeter than you deserve.

[ “wh… what are you apologizing for…? there’s no need to look at me like that…! you can blame me all you like!” ]

— VERDANT STRIDER. tighnari | الطغنري

[ “once again, i told you not to eat your boss’ baking! no, i don’t care if they looked nice! they. are. poisonous!” ]

⇢ he’s more at ease now that he doesn’t have to tolerate idiots who think eating poisonous mushrooms recklessly count as experiments or co-workers who tell him stupid jokes all the time. it’s a less stressful environment now… at least, that’s what he thinks. so why do you keep coming home barely alive?! you’ll find tighnari fussing over you and nagging at your office’s poor working environment.

⇢you’ll have the prettiest garden in the whole neighborhood, if not the whole world! the research data he can acquire from the plants in his backyard is limited, so it’s mostly a hobby of his. of course, he doesn’t just grow whatever there! there’s tons of medicinal herbs growing there and there’s a shed you both built where he can experiment wherever he likes. whenn you’re off work, you like to idle the time away in the garden while tighnari is hard at work on another of his concoctions. simply admiring his focused face is enough to put the stress of work behind you, and you think it’d be prettier if you tucked a flower behind his ear. but you never learn, do you? he launches off to another lecture about why you shouldn’t pluck flowers thoughtlessly while you daydream about his pretty face.

⇢ please please please don’t bring him to any work parties, lest you want to see the entire world burn. he still has that dry sarcasm that you oh so love, but he’s ruthless when it comes to your boss and your more unpleasant co-workers. if any of them try to act chummy with you, he immediately raises a brow and gives them the side-eye. he combats whatever fake-ass comment they have with a dry retort, leaving you panicking and trying him to stop it. but no one stops tighnari in verbal combat, and before long he’s revealed your boss’ and co-workers' vulnerabilities and have them deflating like a balloon.

⇢ tighnari always knows how to make the perfect brew, his teas always the perfect blend of both taste and remedy. it’s too bad though, that you always fall asleep before you can manage to finish a single pot. whenever you awake from a tea-induced slumber, your body feels strangely heavy but you can’t complain about the sleep. your husband is always the first thing you see from these naps, his fluffy tail wrapped around your legs and his big eyes staring intently at your face.

⇢ whenever he mixes in the drugs in your food or tea, tighnari’s tail swishes back and forth as he begins thinking of your cute expressions while you’re half-sober. sometimes he doesn’t put the usual dose and instead just halves it, just to see you flailing to get a grip on your senses and reaching out to your oh-so-innocent husband for help. he often chastises himself for this… dirty behavior, but the devil in his mind gleefully reminds him that this counts as research. the test subject just happened to be his trusting partner for life.

⇢ tighnari isn’t above imprisonment. it’s less for the thought of protecting you and more for his personal benefit. he likes to tell himself this is strictly research, but he can’t deny the awestruck look on his face as he greedily eats up every expression of your drugged face. when you grasp onto his clothes and lean on him for support… it makes him shudder with delight. you’re so cute when your system is laced with drugs, and even cuter when you look at him like he’s your entire world. he wants you to rely on him… and in turn, he wants to abuse that over reliance.

“you look better like this,” he murmurs as he brushes your freshly bathed hair. your figure is slumped in your chair like a doll, which isn’t far from the truth from how he handles you like one. he holds you gently, like porcelain, but you don’t react. you are too knocked out from the dose he had slipped into your tea awhile ago. he leans into your face, tutting at the dark circles under your eyes. “look at this… clear neglect of your health. i keep telling you to sleep, but you never listen to me, do you?” he sighs before focusing his attention back to your hair. “you’re so stubborn sometimes, you know. i barely know what to do with you.” he spends the next few moments in silence, rubbing cream into and ointments into your face. you smell slightly of lemongrass now, thanks to the bath he’s given you. tomorrow when you wake up, you will marvel at the softness of your skin and the clearness of your mind, before you throw yourself into another week of overwork. like always. tighnari regrets giving you the sleeping drug now. maybe he should’ve added a dose of the aphrodisiac drug he’s just finished. with the way his feline eyes zero into your blissful face and the eager swaying of his tail, he can just barely hold himself back now.

[ “aaah, i’ve run out of your meds again. oh, don’t you worry, i’ll make you some more. it’s nice how your body is so… receptive to my medicine ♡” ]

— JUDICATOR OF SECRETS. cyno | κύων 

[ “... we’re married… …what? i honestly didn’t think i’d come this far.” ]

⇢while there’s no other man you could imagine to spend the rest of your life with, you’re inwardly groaning about the amount of dad jokes you have to put up with later on in life. sure, you love cyno’s goofy lil personality, but you think you can only take too many stupid jokes before you go crazy. you voice this concern to cyno, who just gives you a reassuring hand on your shoulder and says he can handle you just fine if you do. you’re not quite sure what this implies.

⇢ quite sulky, but he refuses to own up to the fact. sometimes you get a little distracted with one of the neighborhood children, start chatting up one of the kind neighbors, or meet one of your co-workers. you tend to get a little bit distracted by them, and while cyno believes that he’s not overly bothered by this, he admits that he is a little bit miffed about you not paying attention to them. he also gets pouty when work starts taking up of your time and you start to neglect him, so expect him to just shut the laptop close and demand you to eat dinner with him without rushing to get your job done. 

⇢ he used to scare the neighborhood kids away with just one look and you always had to comfort him and pat him on the back in sympathetic understanding. “maybe you’ll get them next time,” you had joked, handing him an ice cream as he sulked on the park’s bench. “one of your jokes should do the trick.” you really shouldn’t have suggested that, because after another trip to the park he stared those kids down with his same stoic expression and cracked one of the corniest jokes known to man. every kid looked at him like he was stupid. now no one takes him seriously. well, at least they like playing with him now???

⇢ overprotective, like over overprotective. he knows you can handle going outside the house on your own, and hell, he might have no qualms with your workplace. but the more you complain, the more paranoid he gets until he’s staking out the site for himself. touchy co-workers? cruel bosses? he could easily have their corpses fed to the dogs. he is a protector of justice, after all, and what is justice but not killing those who lay a hand on their partner?

⇢ it’s not very easy to just push him over the edge, but he can and has the will to lock you away. it’s the modern world, no one’s going to have it out for a salary worker slaving day in and out for a corporation, but still. he’s made plenty of enemies when he was still in the force and there’s a paranoia eating at him whenever you go out of the front door. when he does lock you away, he’s as gentle as he can be, even with the stench of blood all over him. this is all for your sake after all, and he couldn’t bear to see you hurt when he had the power of protecting you.

“cy,” you huff in exasperation, looking up from your laptop as he glares down at you from behind it. “what in the world are you talking about? they’re my co-worker, my superior. you can’t just tell me to stop talking to them. i need their help!” “what help could you possibly need from them when you have me?” he huffs back, crossing his arms. “i’m telling you. they’re dangerous. i… i just know it, okay?” “what could a retired general possibly know about handling excel sheets?” when his face falters, you sigh and shut the laptop closed. “look, i know you just want to protect me and i appreciate that, really. but come on, cy, don’t be unreasonable.” the pressed line of his lips tells you that he has something against being called that, but you press on. “the company does background checks on their employees. it’s safe, i promise.” you press a kiss on his cheek and smile at him. “sit here and calm yourself down, okay? i’ll handle dinner tonight.” he watches your back as you disappear into the kitchen, humming a bright tune that offsets the stormy look in his eyes. he could tell you all about his time in the workforce— the violations he’s made, the blood on his hands, and the enemies he’s made— but he won’t. not if it means breaking this beautiful life he’s created with you. but that’s okay, that’s fine. he’s been trained to adapt to the situation and to work with the shadows.

[ “even if you don’t have a care in the world… i’ll be right behind you. wherever. whenever.” ]

[heartsforrain00]

hey..👹

street racer!Choso x nerdy!reader

NASTY FRAKY SLOPY MESSY DIRTY SHLOPY JUICY WET CARS SEX🤭 like so basically R is a fan of him and snuck out (she has strict parents and shes a good girl) to the street race and found herself talking to choso after the race (he won of course) and he was falling for her in many ways but he really wanted to fuck and so he took her to his car and sent homegirl to POUNDTOWN AND KEPT POUNDING. because she got that good pussy🤭 yk and he cant get enough overstimulating himself and her but she doesn’t mind. she just has to try and make it home before her parents wake up. good thing its the weekend huh🤭🤭

Send that pussy to poundtown ! - Street Racer!Choso Kamo

warnings: street racer Choso, nerdy Reader, slightly rough sex, Choso having a lot of stamina, car sex, choking, hair pulling, Reader having strict parents, overstimulation, backshots, size kink(bro’s dick is like 11-12 inches).

He can’t get enough of that cunt!/🌽link

Choso Kamo

As usual you were at home studying your ass off for your next quiz. Your parents were strict, so they barely allowed you to go anywhere, even if you didn't have any up-coming quizzes or tests.

You never understood why they were so strict anyways, you passed all your tests, exams, and quizzes, straight A's, top of the class, and they still don't let you get a break.

Crazy thing is you don't even live with them, they just keep in contact with your principal. But you're staying with them for spring break.

“You better be studying!” Your mother snapped as she slammed open your door, standing there with your father right behind her.

You look up from your book and nod . “Yes mother, I am.” You say as you look back down at your book.

Your mother didn’t know if you were lying or not, she was just really stupid to believe her own child.

“Good. You need to be prepared for the test after spring break.” She says, as she looks around your room. “What is with all these goddamn posters of this person ?”

That 'person' was Choso Kamo, a really famous street racer that you have a huge crush on. You didn't know when you developed a crush on him, you saw him on TV and fell in love.

You sigh as you look back down at your book, your mother was always yelling at you for the dumbest reasons possible. Meanwhile your father just stood there and allowed her to yell at you.

She huffed as she turned away from you and slammed your door. One day, that door was going to break off, and you weren't about to take the blame for it.

You stand up and open your door, putting your 'i'm studying, do not disturb' sign on your door and closing it, then locking it.

Sighing as you take out your phone, and check the time. It was 7pm, it was almost time for you to get ready for the street race.

MY BAE(BESTIE<3)

- girl ! where are you ? I'm parked around the corner

read at 7:02pm

you look around as you climb out your window and run towards your best friend’s car. You sighed as you got in and she began to drive off to the race.

When you had finally got there, the race was about to start, and you caught glance of Choso Kamo, he was getting in his car, and starting his engine up.

As soon as the flag went down for the racers to start, Choso started off with incredible speed, and safe to say he won!!

Being the shy person you are, your best friend had to drag you up to Choso, just so you would ask him for an autograph, and hug while you're at it!

You look back at your best friend as she nods, looking over to Choso. “Can.. I get your autograph please?”

You questioned, holding out the journal and pen out to him in case he says yes. He hums as he takes the book and signs it.

‘Choso K.♡’ is what your journal read. He put a cute little heart! You smile as you look back at him.

“Hm, I’ve seen you around, you wanna take a ride in my car sweets ?” Choso questioned as he took your hand in his.

You stutter over your words before shutting up and just nodding. He smirks as he leads you to his car and opens the passenger door for you.

You smile as you get inside the car, and puts the seatbelt on. He hums as he gets in on the other side and starts up the engine.

He began to drive through the neighborhood, his thumb tracing small circles on your inner thigh. He looks at you, asking if he has consent to go further.

Your crush — Choso Kamo, wanted to touch you ? Why pass up such an offer! You nod as he moves his hand up further, stopping in a random parking lot.

“Get in the back seat for me sweets.” He says, as you begin to unbuckle your seatbelt and crawl in the back, him following after you.

He asks for permission to push your skirt up, and makes sure your comfortable, he may be a very messy, and anger-issued person in the streets, but in the sheets, he's sweet and aggressive.

You nod as he pushes up your skirt and moves your panties to the side as you hum. He puts his face between your legs, taking in your scent to his nose.

All he smelled was a sweet cunt that was about to get ravished. To him, you smelled like candy, and sweets all that he loved.

He grips your hips, pulling you closer to his face. His face buried in your cunt, as he sticks his tongue to taste you.

“Shit, you taste so fucking good, sweets..” he murmurs as he comes back up and keeps one hand on your hip, the other unbuckling his belt.

He pushes down his boxers and began lazily stroking his cock. you look back, seeing how big his dick was, that shit wasn’t going to fit in you!

He positions his cock at your entrance, humming as he pushes down on your back, making you arch more.

Your face was pressed against his backseat, as he pushed himself inside of you. “Fuck — you feel so good” he murmurs as his grip on your hips tighten.

He began pounding away at that cunt of yours, making himself pussy drunk. He was pounding away as he gripped your hips harder.

His hair clinging to his forehead as he threw his head back. He just kept pounding, not letting either of you cum, he wanted to savor this moment.

Fucking the cute girl of his dreams? Complete! He just finished his bucket list, but he knows he’ll have to make another just to fuck you again.

“Cho—so! Cu—mming!” You managed to scream out, something that wasn’t just his name, or stupid moans about how good his dick was.

His grip on your hips tightened up, as he pressed his chest against your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “cum for me then.”

He murmured as you listened and finally came on his dick. He soon followed after you as you came. “Good girl���

He pulled back and took the condom off.(don’t ask me when he put it on..) He threw it in the trash can he had in his car and pulled you up.

“I should drive you home pretty. You plan to come to my next race right ?” He questioned as he got back in the front seat after cleaning you up and throwing the rag away.

You nod simply as you lay in his backseat, he hums as he looks through his mirror and drives you back home.

You thank him for the drive and walk off, to climb back into your window, it was 2 in the morning currently and your parents were still asleep.

Or should have been. They weren’t, they were having the night of their lives like you just did!

You yawn as you change and fall right onto your bed, a piece of paper flying out of your pocket. It was his number!

I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH WHAT AND I’M SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO DO IT

[misotsukiiyeooo]

"Just one more?" Part 3

Pairing:Husband!Father CSC x F! Mother!Reader

A/N: I'M BACKKK!!! After the polled votes came in I immediately started to write lmao! This one will also be a bit longer since it's the last one...or is it? jkkk unless...Enjoy!

Genre: Fluff (Hint of crack)

Word count: 16.6k (Not proofread sry)

Synopsis: After Seungcheol finds out you're pregnant, again, the whole experience has been, tender, lovely, and well....shocking

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

3 Months Later

Everything with Seungcheol has been so perfect. Well, this is your fourth kid but that's what made the experience even better.

He already knew how to help you with your cravings and everything.

Telling the rest of his members was also fun. Of course, Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Joshua ran up to hug you first.

And telling your children was also exciting with Seojun, your oldest son hugging you while Jieun, your second child blabbers on how she's going to dress up the baby. Your youngest, Dohyun just smiles handing you a toy to play with him.

Today, You and Seungcheol are so excited because you can finally find out the sex of your child.

"Babe, we're going to be late!" He's rushing you, clearly he's more excited than you are.

"I'm coming hold on!" You grab your sweater and wave goodbye to your kids and thank Seungkwan once again for watching them.

Seungcheol holds your hand as you walk down the stairs. "I'm only three months, Cheol..." He still treats you as if you were going into labor this instant.

"I know....but we still need to be careful" You look at him while he continues to talk nonsense.

Entering the car, he closes your door; going to the driver's side.

"What do you think the gender is?" You ask him, curiously. "Hm, probably another boy. But whatever the gender is, I'll love them either way." He looks at you fondly.

"You're so cheesy! But I think it'll be a girl because we just had a boy and it seems like a pattern." Seungcheol thinks about it, nodding. "You're probably right, but there's only one way to right out." He starts the car.

As you enter the hospital, you are greeted with warm smiles. "Hi, I had an appointment for an ultrasound today." The nice lady behind the desk looks at you. "Oh yes, Choi Y/n was it? Please fill out these papers and bring them back to me."

She hands you some medical papers and you take them, walking to a seat where Seungcheol's already at.

After filling out the papers you hand them to the lady to take your seat again but before you even sit back down, your nurse calls you in.

"Choi Y/n?" She calls out. "Yes?" You both lock eyes, smiling. "Follow me right this way."

You hold Seungcheol's hand, excited and nervous to find out the sex.

You are seated in the reclined seat while Seungcheol stands beside you. "So you're finally three months! You're here to find out the sex, right?" You nod.

The nurse puts the cold gel on your belly causing you to twitch. You look at the screen above which shows the ultrasound.

"Seems like your baby's doing well." She continues to look at the screen. Her eyes widen, causing you to get scared.

"Is something wrong?" You and Seungcheol both look at her. "I'm afraid I'm not able to say anything. Only the doctor could, and she shall be here shortly." She exits.

You feel anxious, many negative thoughts running through your mind. 'Is the baby sick?' 'Is the baby alright?'. Taking you out of your thoughts, you feel Seugcheol grip your hand.

"Everything's going to be okay, alright?" Just the right words you wanted to hear.

A few seconds later, the doctor enters. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Choi. Is everything alright? I just received some information from the nurse who was here, and I want to check it out for myself."

"If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong?" Seungcheol asked, looking quite nervous himself.

The doctor now looks at the screen. "There seems to be two babies in here."

"What!?" You and Seungcheol both say in unison.

"How's that possible? When I came here two weeks ago they said they only saw one?" You're utterly confused.

"You are quite early in your pregnancy so mistakes like this can occur, especially with the babies hiding and such. But yes, look here," She points to the screen. "There's two babies in here, congratulations. You're having twins!"

You're both left shocked, mouths gaped. "I'm not mad...however I'm just in shock." You let out, not knowing whether to be excited or in tears.

"What are their genders?" Seungcheol pitches in. "I'm sorry I almost forgot to even tell you. This one's a girl and the other's a boy." The doctor points at the screen, identifying each baby.

"A boy and a girl?!?" You still can't believe this.

"Yes but if you'll excuse me, I have another patient that needs to be checked. If there are any more questions, you can ask anytime, take care and remember not to stress too much." The doctor exits and you sigh, now facing Seungcheol.

"You did say you wanted another baby" He smiles. "Yeah, but I didn't expect to have babies!" You both look at each other, breaking the silence with laughter.

"I'm a bit scared though...we have to get two of everything and more stress, more waking up at night, more everything! And no wonder I'm so huge at only three months!!" Seungcheol wants to let out maybe even the tiniest bit of laughter but knowing how hormonal you are, he could never do such a thing.

"It's going to be alright baby, you need to remember; that I'm also here. I would never let you do this alone." He holds your hands.

"Hm...You're right, I'm sorry but still, these are two babies!" You let out. "I can't even imagine the boy's faces when I tell them," Seungcheol said.

Arriving home you see Seungkwan and the kids playing together. "You sure you don't want to have your own kids?" You rest your hand on your hip, smiling at him.

"No, most definitely not. I'm good as a fun uncle, not a father." He lets out a chuckle causing you to also laugh.

"Well, I have some news...we're having twins!!" His face has shock written all over it.

"Twins? Twins!!" Seungkwan rushes over to you, hugging you tightly. "Kwan...the twins, remember?"

He made an 'o' shape with his mouth and then let go, apologizing.

"When are you going to tell the rest of the boys?" Seungkwan asks. "Maybe tomorrow? I can't wait to see their faces!"

Seungcheol comes back from the kid's room after putting them to bed while you are talking with Seungkwan. "Well as much as I love to stay and talk with you, I have to get home. Practice is pretty early for us." He looks over at Seungcheol.

"Right, get home safe Seungkwan." Seungcheol waves as you walk Seungkwan out.

After saying your goodbyes' he left; leaving you and Seungcheol alone. "I still can't believe everything that's happened today..." You hug Seungcheol who already has his arms open for you.

"I know, I'm even more excited now that I know it's twins," he says as he kisses your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips causing you to giggle.

"Should we get ready for bed? You also have a long day tomorrow you know." You said earning a pout from him. "But I wanted to spend my day with you and the kids tomorrow..."

Smiling at his cuteness, you play with his hair, "How about we visit you during practice? We do have to tell the boys about the twins."

"I do like the sound of that." Seungcheol kisses you once again before you head off to bed.

Next Day

You wake up to an empty bed. However, you do see a post-it note on the side dresser.

'Good morning my beautiful wife, I made breakfast for you and the kids ;)'. Smiling at the note, you get off of bed and freshen up for the day until your kids wake up.

As soon as you got out of the bathroom Dohyun, your three-year-old was walking up to you. Slowly but surely.

"Mama, where dada go? I went to room but no one there" He has his hands in a shrugging position while shaking his head. 'Aw this cutie' You thought.

Taking him into your arms and pampering him with kisses you, finally answer. "I'm sorry Dohyun, dada went to work. Do you want to go surprise him later?"

He doesn't let even a second go by before yelling out excitedly, even waking up the rest of the kids. "Dohyun...you woke me up..." Jieun walks out rubbing her eyes while Seojun's just a couple steps behind her.

"I'm sorry kids, but Dad made you guys breakfast! So after eating, we can get dressed to see him at work."

They both look at each other, then you. "Does that mean we can see our uncles too!!" They say in unison happily.

"Yes, you can but, not if you don't eat breakfast." Seojun and Jieun race to the table to eat the food Seungcheol made in no time.

After driving to get some food, you finally make it to Seungcheol's workplace.

You enter the elevator with the kids. "Mommy, I'm so excited to see Uncle Gyu!" Jieun jumps excitedly.

"Hm, and why is that?" You ask. "Because he's so tall and I can pretend like I'm flying!" She puts one arm up as if she were.

"Well, it's a good thing we're here now." You all exit the elevator and they're already used to the place; running to the practice room before you can even get there.

As you approach, all you can hear are indistinct screams of joy.

Entering the practice room you see all the boys surrounding your kids. Seungcheol notices you immediately and grabs the food out of your hands.

"Babe...why didn't you tell me you were downstairs? I could've helped you with the food." He pouts.

"It's okay, Cheol. It wasn't that heavy." Seungcheol still takes the bags.

"Y/n!!" Mingyu runs to hug you but slows down; eyeing you. "Wow..." You laugh at his face.

"I know, right?" You affirm, moving toward him to offer a reassuring hug because he was too hesitant to do so himself.

"Uncle Gyu! Carry me, carry me!!" Jieun wastes no time asking for what she wanted this whole time.

"Ms.Jieun, please keep all arms and legs in the vehicle at all times." Mingyu bends down so Jieun can go on his back. "Prepare for take off!!" As he runs around the practice room with Jieun, you take the opportunity to head towards everyone else.

"Hey guys!" They all look at you, waving, smiling, and coming up to hug you.

"Thanks Y/n for the food!" Soonyoung thanks you while taking another spoonful. "You're welcome!"

Dohyun walks to Wonwoo- calmly sitting on his lap, you've always noticed Wonwoo was his favorite uncle. Probably because they're both calm people.

And Seojun simply talks with his favorite uncle, Seokmin. He knows how crazy Seokmin is; however, he just finds him enduring.

You sit with everyone, patiently waiting to drop the news. "When are you going to tell them?" Seungkwan whispers next to you. You hit him for whispering too loud, "I'll tell them now..."

You eye Seungcheol, signaling to him that you are ready to tell them. "So guys...I actually have some news." They look at you confused on whether it's good or not.

"Is something wrong?" Jeonghan asks. "Well, no. It's just shocking."

"Tell us, tell us!" Chan grows impatient.

"So, I went to my ultrasound yesterday, and turns out...I'm having twins!!" You finally let out.

Many expressions were shown but you can tell they were all happy; just shown in...different ways.

Mingyu, Soonyoung, and Seokmin literally jump like animals.

Minghao, Jihoon, Wonwoo, and Vernon congratulate you with the biggest smiles.

Junhui and Chan both sit down in shock.

And lastly, Jeonghan and Joshua run up to hug you, again.

"I'm so happy for you!!" Joshua tells you. "Oh my gosh! We can make them just like me and Seokmin!" Everyone pauses; looking at a happy Soonyoung.

"Or maybe not." He shuts up completely as we all laugh.

The rest of the day was spent with the kids playing with their uncles while you talked it up with the ones who weren't occupied.

6 Months Later

Everything has been going well with you carrying twins and all.

Your best friend, Seungkwan threw you a baby shower with the help of your parents.

Your kids felt the twins kick, and Seungcheol almost cried.

Seungcheol even decorated a whole room for the twins. And now you're 9 months pregnant and shopping at the mall.

"That dress in that store looks cute! Let's go Cheollie." You hold your back as you walk into the store.

Grabbing the dress in your size, you head to the changing room, Seungcheol steps behind you.

You managed to successfully put on the cozy dress but taking it off was a hassle. "Cheol? I need help."

He comes into the changing room worried. "What happened?" He asks.

"Nothing too serious I just need help taking off my dress." He lets out a sigh of relief and helps you.

As he lifts up the dress a bit you pause.

"Cheol..stop."

He looks at you puzzled, but lets go.

"Either I just peed my pants or I think my water just broke..." Eyes widening he panics. "Your water broke?!?"

You simply nod, panicking yourself. Out of all places, your water broke before; it's never been at a mall.

You knew you were going to give birth at any point just not right now!

"We-we have to go!" You groan at the contractions. You both try to walk out of the store but get stopped by security.

"Ma'am you can't leave without purchasing the dress." He puts an arm out.

"Add it to my tab, I'll call this place later. It's an emergency." Seungcheol holds you by the waist attempting to calm you before you yell at this man. But the guy once again has his arm out.

"That's what they all say. I'm afraid I can't let you leave without paying."

That's it

"My water just broke and it just so happens to be I was trying on this dress! So if you don't want two fucking babies coming out of me in this store I suggest you listen to my husband and let us fucking go!!" The security's eyes widen, looking you up and down and gulping.

"Well, I'm sorry for not reading the room. Please, go on and give birth to your twins.." He finally moves his hand and you and Seungcheol rush out of the place.

Entering the car, your screams only get louder and louder. "We're almost there, Baby. Almost there.." Seungcheol holds your thigh while driving as fast yet safely as possible.

You make it to the hospital and Seungcheol does the talking for you. "My wife is going into labor." He attempts to stay as calm as possible.

"Come right this way." A nurse brings you to a room while you're very much in pain.

Multiple nurses enter now as your contractions are getting close. "Ms. Choi, breathe, just breathe."

Did she really just tell me that?

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?!?" You counter back. Seungcheol smiles at the lady apologizing for you.

The pain was unbearable, those twins were really doing a number on you.

A doctor finally walks in, "Hello, your contractions are pretty close I see, I'm going to need you to push."

Push!?! Can't she see I can barely even breathe?!?

Seungcheol holds your hand as you are preparing to push.

"And 1, 2, 3, push!" Said the doctor. Only screams were heard; everything felt hazy you didn't know if you could even do it.

"You got this, Babe. Just keep pushing." He never once left your side as you continued to push.

"Just one more Ms.Choi-There we go. A beautiful boy!" The sound of the newborn baby crying calmed you in a way that brought you back to your senses.

The nurses took that baby to clean him while you still felt in pain. "One more Ms.Choi, you got this come on."

"I-I I can't. I can't do it" You felt exhausted, this was serious pain.

"Y/n, look at me- Look at me. You need to push; I know you're tired but there's still our daughter in there waiting to be brought into this world. So push!! I'm right here for you." Seungcheol's words help you realize, you have to keep going.

For the sake of your daughter.

You push as hard as you can, taking breaks, tears leaving your eyes, and even sweat dripping from your forehead.

But that didn't stop you from completing your mission.

And with the last push, your daughter was finally out. "Congratulations Ms. Choi, you did well."

You drop your head on the pillow, and tears of happiness and pain keep escaping your eyes. "You did it Y/n...it's all okay now." Seungcheol kisses your forehead and those are the last words you hear before falling into deep sleep.

After some time, you blink your eyes open only for them to be set on Seungcheol holding two babies in his hand. Tears of joy leaving his own eyes.

"Oh look, mommy's up! let's go say hi." He walks up to you so you can see your children.

"They look perfect, right?" He said as you can't even keep your eyes off them.

"I know, they must've gotten that from me." You chuckle at your newly found confidence. "I think they did." He adds on giggling himself.

"What should we name them?"Seungcheol asks you. "Hm..I don't know yet..."

"How about I name one and you name the other?" He proposes. "But they should rhyme, no?" You ask. "If you want them too."

"Well then, what if...she's Jisu and...he's Jiho?" You pitch in, pointing at each kid, waiting for his response.

He nods, "I think it's perfect. Jisu sounds cute like her and Jiho sounds manly like this handsome boy here." He kisses they're cheeks.

"Jisu and Jiho it is."

Reqs are open!!

This adorable divider is by @dollywons !!

Taglist!!

@jjunie-0 @minminghao @honglynights @allieyaaa @bath1lda @black-swan-blog27

[tadpolesonalgae]

Nighttime

Rhysand x reader

For day 4 of @acotar-omegaverse-week — Getting Knotty: …you really didn't think we'd have omegaverse week without a whole day for knots, did you?

a/n: this is kind of short but I’m hoping also relatively sweet/soft 🧡💛

warnings: cockwarming; knots; edging…?; soft Rhys; fluff; sub reader

word count: 1,208

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You squirm in his lap, hips shifting faintly as you aim for some kind of stimulation.

Rhys grunts faintly from the movement, feeling you tighten around him as inner muscles flex to aid your positioning. “Darling,” he chastises, “keep still. You’ve a while left yet.”

“But Rhys…” You pull back far enough to peer up at him, trying to look as fuckable as possible to tempt him to give in. Sadly, he seems immune this particular evening, simply settling back in his chair and stroking his palm over the crown of your head. “Are you going to behave? Or should I put you over my lap?”

“I’ll behave,” you try to negotiate, “but I want…” You fumble over the finish, still getting too flustered to voice your needs. He’s been nothing but encouraging and comforting in the bedroom, and yet bashfulness keeps you quiet, glancing away with hot cheeks.

“Darling. What is it?” Deft fingers delicately push beneath your jaw, inclining your chin to meet his twinkling eyes, “Talk to me.” Your flush deepens, hips instinctively tilting before you still their motion, remembering you’re trying to be good. “I…you.”

“Me?” His mouth quirks. “I hope you’re not about to argue, darling. I’d hate to make you wait any longer. And just when you were reaching the end, too.”

“No! No, I just…” you look up at him pleadingly, begging for him to just go into your mind and read what you’re thinking from there, so you can be spared the humiliation of voicing your desires.

Rhys merely raises a brow, amusement clear in his handsome features as he watches you struggle and fumble.

“Can you…I want you to finish.” The words push from your tongue, Rhys swallowing down a groan as you tighten around him. “Or at least, get close to…climax,” you hasten to add, fingers playing nervously with the hem of his collar, pale linen folding beneath your digits. “Please, I just want to feel you a bit more.” You make the effort to look up at him, thighs faintly squeezing his waist with need. “I’ll feel better…comforted…if I can feel you like that.”

“Want to feel me locking you in place? Would that make you feel more secure?”

You’re unsure if he’s patronising you—he has a mean streak that occasionally surfaces in light-hearted ways—so you choose to take him at his word just in case, flushing as you nod your head. It’s been ages, and maybe it makes you needy but you want that reassurance. Just that little extra piece of intimacy to soothe the irrational mumblings of your mind.

Violet eyes twinkle, holding your gaze for what feels like minutes before his lips soften at their edges, his palm cupping your cheek. “Promise you’re not saying this to get out of your little predicament?”

“I promise.” Then after a moment follows a muffled ‘sorry…’

His smile fades a little, bringing you closer so he can press a kiss to your cheek. “You’ve nothing to apologise for. I’m happy you’re telling me,” he adds on when he sees your lips parting to argue for your imagined short-coming. “Let’s get you moving a bit, hm?” You manage a nod, tiptoes grazing the wooden floor of his office before finding your footing, softly bucking your hips as you mumble a ‘thank you’. It earns you another kiss to your cheek, having warmth sizzle throughout your body as butterflies flutter.

“Is this okay?” You mumble, palms splayed out across his chest, the pads of your fingers lightly digging into the sculpted muscle of his stomach. “Perfect,” Rhys whispers, hands trailing reverently up your arms until they’re cupping your shoulders, rubbing to keep you reassured. “You’re doing so well.”

“You’re just saying that.” You huff, too flustered to accept the praise, instinctively rejecting it. Rough hands grip your hips, pulling you to an abrupt stop, a whimper whining from your throat. Violet eyes pierce into you, “Would I lie to you?”

You fumble, trying to look away so you don’t have to answer. It doesn’t fly. His grip tightens but his tone remains soft; calming, “Darling, answer me. Would I lie to you?”

“…no, Rhys.”

“No, I wouldn’t. If I tell you you’re doing well, it’s because you’re doing well. If I say you’re perfect, it’s because you’re perfect. If I say you’re my good, sweet omega…?” He raises a brow in your direction, encouraging you. A flush creeps up your neck, but you answer. “It’s because I’m your good…sweet, omega.”

“There you go.” The chuckle is both pleased and pleasured, pride twinkling in his features and he once more presses a kiss to your cheek, then drops another to the tip of your nose for good measure.

“Now, I want you to keep moving until you’re happy.” You blink, glancing up at him for more guidance. When he gives none, leaving it up to you, you falter. “But what if I come?” You ask—that was the whole point of the scene, for you to be denied pleasure. You don’t want to disappoint him. But Rhys shrugs his shoulders, squeezing your hips, “if you come, you come. You lasted long enough.”

“But-”

“Don’t stress over it,” he smiles, raising his hand so his thumb can stroke back and forth over the crest of your cheek. “Make yourself feel good,” violet eyes meet your own, “okay?”

You want to kiss him. Want to pull him to your lips and pepper him with tiny kisses for making you feel so comfortable. For being such a safe space and remaining so open, even when you’re like this. He would never encourage the self-deprecating thoughts but it’s hard to come to terms with some of the more needy parts of yourself, the constant seeking of reassurance through touch or time or intimacy.

You manage a nod of your head, beginning to carefully rock your hips back and forth. Slowly getting him riled up until his knot is almost fully formed. You’d probably still be able to slip off if you tried but it would be a stretch. It’s as close as you want him to be, able to feel that swell of his cock lodged a little inside your cunt, pushing outwards to your walls and your squeeze him contentedly.

“This is good,” you murmur, leaning into the heat of his chest, greedily hauling down his warmth and basking in the sturdiness of his chest. “Can we stay like this for a bit?” You request, nosing at the skin the neckline of his shirt exposes, breathing in his scent that has tension seeping from your limbs, melting all over his lap. Powerful arms wrap around your back, tucking you closer as he sits back up in his seat, allowing you to remain there for a little longer while he goes back to his desk.

“Just start moving again whenever you want more.” The instruction is soft beside your ear, but it sends a shiver of need up your spine nonetheless. You want to press kisses all over his skin.

Instead you shimmy closer, laying your cheek to his chest, basking in the rightness of your unity. There’s no place you’d rather be.

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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger