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dxxdhood · 5 months ago

Text

drains me slowly

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool finally invites you, the coworker he has a massive crush on, over, which means the two of you end up doing more than just watching a movie.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, pain kink, use of superpowers to fuel a pain kink, light masochism, teasing, gentle dom, hand job, scratching, body worship

wc: 3.3k

a/n: fic inspired by the new deadpool movie coming out!!! also, title is from love me dead by ludo.

No surprise that Wade wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite– that goes for among the heroes he’s worked with and throughout his life in general. He’s – to put it in the kindest way anyone’s ever told him – fucking annoying. Oh, he’s more than aware that he’s a little too out-of-pocket, abrasive, impulsive– a nightmare to interact with, really. And those were just the recent comments made by the closest thing he has to coworkers! The shit he heard from people growing up was leagues worse.

Look, having a rough start in life isn’t uncommon and he’s sure as hell not gonna get the tiny violin out for himself and throw his own little pity party, but he’s grown enough since his healing factor got beat out of him to acknowledge that he’s had it tough over the years.

He’s still going, though! Yeah, he may not always be the best at doing his laundry quick enough to get any clean clothes to wear, or at stopping his room from becoming cluttered with too many half-empty water bottles, but he’s still making it by, day by day.

But, well, it’s still really hard to constantly put himself out there, get assigned – or infinitely more likely, just shove himself into – whatever jobs or missions he feels like taking on when everyone treats him like Jar Jar Binks.

That was until you came along. So, obviously you’re crazy hot – he’s gotta get that out of the way first – but more than that, you were confident. Competent, too, and those rarely coincide in Wade’s experience. You mostly worked on call, joining the occasional mission, battle, or investigation because your mutant powers came in handy often, but you also still kept up with your day job. Honestly, Wade thinks the reason why you weren’t always present in fights was to stop the other mutants from being out of a job. Your ability to slowly deteriorate surrounding biological tissue, while horrifying and a pain in the ass to control – your words – was basically winning on easy mode.

But no, you were adamant about keeping your involvement with the X-Men infrequent– only joining when your presence was absolutely necessary. Apparently nonstop high stress situations aren't good for your mental health– who knew?

And he wants to pretend he became obsessed with you because of all those things, and of course they helped, but really, you had him at hello. Or well, you bothering to say hello and actually talk to him in the first place, to ask him questions about his life in moments of downtime where usually he’d be left with an unenthusiastic audience instead of a warm-hearted listener who actually laughed at his jokes.

So, of course, he has to go and fuck it up.

…

“So, glad that’s over, huh?” Wade says through a smile, the whites of his mask squeezing as his cheeks rise. “Speaking of over, you wanna come?”

“Over?” you shake your head a little, flashing your teeth as you try and comprehend him. “Right after we took on a whole crime ring?”

“Well, what a better time to unwind, am I right?”

“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows. “We’re unwinding?”

It’s small, but you swear Wade ups his talking speed, “Well, yeah, you know. Watch a movie, order in, show you my Pokemon cards, the works.”

You hum, pretending to consider it, “Depends, you got a holo Charizard?”

And now, for sure, he exhales his relief. “You insult me.”

The two of you enter his apartment not long after you’re dismissed from the mission, and Wade briefly excuses himself to change out of his suit. Making yourself at home, you take a seat on the couch and glance across his living room. His apartment is surprisingly nice. The kitchen and living room are one large, open space with a sleek, modern design. Also, you’d assume someone as chaotic as Wade would keep their house in a messier state, or hell, at least a little dusty, but the living room is spotless. Maybe he cleaned recently? What, was he planning on inviting someone over?

Snorting as you shake your head, a small click from across the hall catches your attention.

You’ve only seen Wade on the job, so naturally he’s always been wearing his red suit, but for some reason, you never stopped to picture him wearing civilian clothes. Actually, now that you’re seeing him in a sweatshirt and sweatpants – awfully warm for this weather – you’re struggling to reconcile the image of him you had in your head with the person right in front of you.

Well, at least until Wade brings up a fist to cover his mouth, illustrating his nervousness, and the tension fizzles out. Only Wade has body language that cartoonishly exaggerated.

“Nice sweats, green looks good on you.”

Wade pauses for a moment, registering your words before he giggles softly, arm falling to his side, “I’ve been thinking about changing the color of my suit. You know, hiding all the blood is great and all, but sometimes I gotta wonder – could this thing be more flattering?”

He walks over with a spring in his step before sitting by your side. Cutely, he wraps you up in the larger blanket first before settling the smaller, throw blanket over himself. You try your hardest not to show your confusion outwardly, but seeing Wade up close now has you questioning his outfit all the more.

He’s a bit tall, so the sweatpants don’t go all the way down to his ankles, but Wade’s wearing calf socks, as if he specifically were trying to avoid them being uncovered. Also, his hoodie’s easily a size or two larger, which makes it the perfect thing to wear to lounge around and watch a movie in, but also, the sleeves cover his entire hand sans his fingers. From the little you can see of them, they look puckered in scars.

But obviously Wade’s hands are scarred– he’s a mercenary. He’s handled all sorts of weapons and been in hundreds of fights over the years. You weren’t expecting his skin to be baby-smooth.

What’s interesting to you is why he’d go through all the trouble to hide it.

Also, yeah, the most obvious pointers were that the hood of his sweatshirt is up even though you two are indoors in his own home and – how could you forget this one – his Deadpool mask is still on.

Was he just uncomfortable with sharing his identity in general or was he specifically trying to shove distance between the two of you? Whatever, if he doesn’t want to take his mask off with you, he doesn’t have to. You feel a distinct pang in your chest, but you try not to let it color how you respond to him. He’s more than in the right to only share what he feels most comfortable with.

Wade’s been fiddling with the remote while you’ve been – hopefully – subtly looking him over, and the screen finally changes from a streaming service page to the opening of the movie.

“We’re watching The Princess Bride? I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

He bats his eyes – at least, you think he does, given the mask– and speaks in a sweet voice “Why, me? Oh please, I know romance. I’m not going to invite a lovely, gorgeous, incredible person over and force them to watch Die Hard on the first–”

His back straightens out like he’s been electrocuted before he forcibly relaxes his posture to finish his thought.

“Hang-out.”

Okay, you want to go easy on him, especially because he seems so tense, but you can’t just let that one slide. You close the small distance remaining between the two of you, causing your entire side to press against his. Even through his sweatshirt, you can feel how warm he is.

“Mmm, just a hang out?” you mumble, sliding your head onto his shoulder. You’ve done this before, either for comedic effect or just in an attempt to push his buttons the same way he always tries to push yours – which, despite his best efforts, always ends up endearing him to you instead of bothering you – but never in a context like this.

He inhales sharply, and you count the seconds until he finally lets himself release it. Sometimes, you think he takes his healing factor for granted.

Turning his head to peer down at you, Wade considers you for a moment, keeping his face and body language deceptively neutral. You try your hardest to keep your eyes focused on the movie and your body loose and comfortable.

“You want this to be a date?” he says, flat.

“Why, thank you for asking, dear sir,” you copy his sweet voice from earlier before returning to your normal. “Yes, Wade, I like you.”

“I–” he starts, but the words get caught on their way out. His fingers bury themselves in the material of his sweatpants, and the movement draws your attention to them again. Shades of blotchy red and pink curve all across his skin.

Wade doesn’t say anything, which is concerning enough on its own, but following your confession, you feel like he’s more than out of his element.

“That’s why you invited me over, right?” you try and help him out. “You feel the same, too.”

And then, feeling bold, you turn your head to face his still mask-covered head and kiss him lightly on the cheek. Instantly, you see fireworks go off inside him, because Wade hurriedly shuts the TV off and runs off to close the blinds. There’s barely enough light in the room now to make out shapes, but apparently Wade doesn’t take any issue because he peels his mask back and kisses you on the lips.

His lips are textured, and your intuition flashes quietly in the back of your mind, but for right now, you focus on how energetic he is. If his body is warm, his mouth feels like it’s on fire. He’s constantly moving, trying to experience all of you as fast as possible.

It’s making your face heat up, how quickly he demands your complete attention and how relentless he is in grabbing it. Wade bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp into him, and he uses the opportunity to explore across your own teeth and tongue. After a few more seconds, you break away, needing the space to breathe.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, voice rough.

“You’re telling me,” Wade coughs out. “We could’ve been doing that this whole time?”

“Well, all you had to do was ask.”

And although you can’t see him, which you know is the point, you understand something in him has shifted. He gets up from the couch, takes you by the hand, and leads you towards his room. His pace is so quick, you barely comprehend his actions until you’re both standing right in front of his bed.

“Is this okay?” he asks, quiet. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him stifle the amount of words he let loose before.

“Yes, of course it is. But Wade, we have to turn on at least a lamp or something in here.”

“We do?”

“Yeah,” you pause to give him a second to think. “I can’t see you at all like this.”

“What if – and you're just going to have to trust me on this one – you’d prefer it this way,” Wade’s voice is light, but it feels like it’s cracking at the edges.

“And why’s that?”

Not like you’d be able to see, but the anxiety radiating off of him makes him sound wide-eyed, “Huh? Oh, I– uh…”

“Look, if you’re worried about how I’m going to react to you having a bunch of scars– don’t. I don’t mind,” the sound of fabric rustling in front of you makes you think he just flinched. “I figured it out. You’re not sneaky.”

“You say that, but…”

“Wade, I don’t care. And I mean that kindly! Really, it doesn’t bother me.”

Wade starts pacing in front of you, nearly tripping on the leg of the bedpost, “Look, I appreciate the whole hero act you got going on here – really fits you good, you should totally quit your day job – but you don’t have to force yourself, I–”

“Wade, you either confront your insecurities head on or I’m not doing this with you. I told you what I think, the only person who’s going to worry about how you look here is you. We either have sex with a light on or not at all, okay?”

No one speaks for a few seconds once you finish saying your piece, and you cringe, realizing how forceful you must have come off. You’re about to speak up again to apologize when you hear a shudder-filled exhale from a few feet away.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans. “You’re so hot when you're putting people in their place.”

Your lips curl into a shaky smile, “Yeah, what else do you think is hot?”

And you can practically hear the gears turning in his head from here.

…

It’s actually happening. No fucking way he didn’t dream this up. But you were pretty adamant about him getting his head in the game in order for you guys to actually get down and dirty, so for you, he tries to keep his train of thought as focused as possible– a big ask.

“Bossing anyone – everyone, especially me – around. You using your abilities–” you reach over and find Wade’s hand before running your fingers up his arm. “Shit, umm, using your abilities in general, but, umm, I really like when I’m there.”

“Oh?” you giggle. “When you get to watch, or?”

“When I get to feel.”

Your hand moves over to the nape of his neck, reaching under his hood and mask, to rub at his rough skin. Wade’s nerves light on fire as he waits for you to respond– for some reason, it never feels like your words come out fast enough.

“You got a thing for pain, Wilson?”

He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, but are you sure? I can try, but it might not be all that good for you.”

“Don’t worry,” he thinks back to all those times he had a hard on while the two of you were fighting together. “It’ll be great for me.”

You hum, “Alright, then, but you tell me to stop the second you don’t like something, okay?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, though you probably can’t see it. “And, same goes for you.”

“What a gentleman, letting me destroy him and giving me an out.”

He’s blushing something furious and he’s never been more grateful for the dark, “Anything for you.”

Those are the last words he whispers before he begins undressing. He knows you probably meant for him to strip with the light on, but he’s really not so sure he could stomach being looked at like a bug under a microscope. The attention, while electrifying, was already starting to get to him, so he lets himself stay in his comfort zone a little longer. As a treat.

Once his sweats are off, he hesitantly peels off his mask before slipping into bed, keeping most of his body under the covers. After shutting his eyes, he clicks the lamplight on.

You’re not saying anything. That’s– a sign? A good one, a bad one, Wade doesn’t know. He’s trying so hard to keep his breathing steady, but he can feel his body start shaking all on its own.

You join him on the bed, kneeling next to him, before your warm breath falls across his cheeks as you kiss his forehead. Only then does he open his eyes, and you reward him by cupping his cheek in your hand.

“There,” you say. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Wade gets the strong urge to snort, and so he does, but your eyes narrow. There’s a soft scratching at the back of his skull as you snake your hand over, and quickly you dig your nails in slightly. Wade has to bite his tongue to keep the noise in.

“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”

“No!” he whispers sharply as you bring your hand down to scratch along the line of his neck.

“Good, seems like you’re learning.”

You kiss him, teeth clacking together at first before Wade melts into it. Your hand is still slowly exploring his body, running along the line of his shoulder and towards his upper arm. When you reach his bicep, you very obviously squeeze the muscle there, and you let out a pleased sigh as you begin groping in earnest.

He wants to turn to hide his face in the pillow, not sure how to react to all the positive attention and appreciation, but you catch him trying to turn away, and you kiss him deeper.

While one hand begins to explore his pecs and abs, your other hand scratches down his v-line, softly caressing the skin of his inner thighs before moving around to squeeze his ass.

Wade rewards you with a small whine, and you carefully trail a finger down his dick. You move in to whisper in his ear, “You’re so hot, I’m not forgiving you for hiding for so long.”

Trying to stifle the embarrassing moan that he knows will come out, he bites down on his lip hard, but you take the hand not teasing his cock to gently pry his lip away.

“From now on, I get to hear you, okay?” you say and Wade nods rapidly.

You take the moment you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and after giving him a second to ready himself, you ask, “I’m going to use it now. Tell me if you want to stop.”

“Okay–” he responds before he feels the sweet sensation of you jerking him off coupled with your power. It’s a humming, dull feeling of pain resting in the background– almost like the sensation of being choked except it’s affecting his entire body. Wade feels like there’s a weight pinning down each of his limbs and it’s so freeing– so relaxing.

He sighs and turns his head to the side, letting out a deep moan when you up the pace of your hand and bring the other to fondle his balls.

“How is it?” you ask, sweat dripping down your brow at trying to control your ability. Sure, it’s powerful and at times pretty horrifying, but Wade always loved how he was essentially immune. At the same rate you could destroy the flesh around you, he could heal his own right back. Just knowing that made him feel good, somehow, like he was made perfectly for you.

“It’s good– so good, I–” he nearly shouts, forgetting about the neighbors.

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”

At hearing the pet name, he straight up whines as he tries to bury his hands in the sheets instead of his own thighs.

“Not sure, umm, a little more–”

And he doesn’t know which god he has to thank for putting you on this planet, but he’s willing to pay them all a visit. You read him like he’s not some mess, some walking disaster nobody bothers paying attention to, and you give him what you know he needs.

From the base of his chin, you drag your hand in a deep scratch across his neck, chest, and stomach, your eyes watching the pink lines blend in with his scarred skin. It’s a flashing pain, sharp like being scalded and it feels so good mixed with the blunt feel of being under your power.

“I’m gonna–” he says, and of course, you seem to already know. He cums with a deep grunt, rutting his hips into your fist before he thrusts his head forward to kiss you again.

As soon as he comes down, he pulls away only slightly, just so he can say what he’s been wanting to say since he met you.

“Thank–”

You cut him off with another kiss, because sometimes, he really does need to shut up.

#deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool smut #wade wilson smut #deadpool x reader #deadpool x gn! reader #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson x gn! reader #marvel #marvel smut #dom reader #sub character #gn reader #smut #deadpool x you #wade wilson x you

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0097linersb · 3 months ago

Text

Right Here ll

Pairings: Wooyoung x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6k~

Warnings: It´s a smut so +18 MDNI. THIS IS THE SECOND PART TO RIGHT HERE!! This wasn´t proofread and I kind of wrote it with my ass so I´m sorry. I´ll slowly start tagging everyone who asked me to, sorry if I forget someone I´m stupid.

Follow me on twitter pleaseeee: wooyosgfreal <3

Part 1

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

“We´re not fucking,” You informed in between labored breaths.

“We don´t have to fuck, I just need you to sit on my face.”

You never whined so loudly in your life before.

That was the one single thing you have been dreaming about hearing for weeks now and you were so happy you could practically cry, in fact, you almost came right there without even being touched.

Wooyoung noticed the semi-thorn look still present on your face and sighed, holding your cheeks so you were forced to stare him in the eyes like he was speaking to a misbehaving child, “Y/N, I don´t care. I don´t care about whatever stupid game we were playing, ok? We will wake up tomorrow and pretend this never happened and continue to be the bestest of friends, but let me have this tonight.”

“Like it never happened.” You repeat stupidly. Can´t believe you were already fucked dumb without actually being fucked. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Ok.”

“Good. Now let me make the most out of it because I´ve been thinking about this for so fucking long.”

He gave you no time to think this time, lips clashing against yours once again and you were embarrassed at how fast you melted against him – he just had a way with his mouth like you´d never seen before. His palms rubbed up your back under your shirt and you shivered at the touch, accidentally grinding against him and earning a groan in response, his hips automatically bucking up and a groan leaving his lips right against yours. Your hands flew to his hair in need, grabbing his roots as you continued to grind into him shamelessly, breathing getting harder by the second. You felt like an animal, just wanting to rip his shirt out and kiss all of his skin. You were so close from just dry humping a bit, his labored breathing mixing with yours, the sounds coming from his mouth so heavenly, the short breaths -

“Nop, can´t wait,” Wooyoung panted as he broke the kiss. You were still trying to figure out what he meant when he slid down and practically threw you up his body so fast you could only yelp in surprise.

And there it was.

The sight you´ve been dying to see.

Wooyoung under you pulling your hips so you would straddle his face.

You took a shaky breath, wanting to appreciate the view for a moment after how long you´ve been imagining it, Wooyoung looking so pretty with his long hair and bumpy nose - but he was not having it, grabbing the back of your thighs and urging you to scoot all the way forward. He did look like the happiest man on earth once you got into the position he wanted, his eyes practically twinkling as he pulled your shorts and panties to the side again, another groan leaving his lips at the sight of you.

“Fuck, can´t believe this is really happening,” He dazedly smiled before raising his head to meet your core, body supported up by his elbows.

Wooyoung took a long slow lick up your slit like he wanted to savor it, but you knew better: he was just being a tease, especially considering he was looking up at you with mischievous eyes. His lips then met your clit in a quick chaste kiss and you whined - He sure was taking his sweet time for someone allegedly so desperate. But then again, what did you expect from Jung Wooyoung?

“Let me enjoy this,” He teasingly scolded you for whining. “This is a dream come true for some of us.”

You glared at him, but the mean look was quickly interrupted as he finally - and suddenly - put his mouth to real work.

“Oh fuck,” You cursed in surprise at the feeling, hands immediately flying to the wall for support.

To say you were seeing stars was not an exaggeration, he would kiss and suck, his tongue would draw shapes against your clit that you couldn´t even make up, head too dizzy with all the sensations. You didn´t even realize you had closed your eyes but there you were, eyelids shut so tight you thought you´d never be able to see again.

“Shit,” You moaned with a spasm of pleasure.

“Told you I was good,” He smirked up at you, chin glistening and lips plumper than ever.

“Shut up,” You groaned, grabbing his hair and pulling him back where you wanted him so you wouldn´t have to look at him and his cocky smile.

He simply laughed, the vibrations against your core driving you insane as he continued with his work. Your mind was practically slime at the point, only being able to focus on your high and how close it was, you knew that for some reason you had to be quiet but you couldn´t even remember why anymore –

Oh, right: Wooyoung cocky, Wooyoung big ego, Wooyoung bad.

Wooyoung sped up his tongue and you betrayed yourself when a moan escaped past your lips, alerting him you were at the edge. You held your breath and braced yourself, ready to let go -

Wooyoung suddenly leaned back, breaking your trance, “You sound so pretty.”

You opened your eyes to look at him, thrown aback – it was once again like a bucket of water had been thrown at you.

The whole bucket, not just the water.

“What´s wrong?” He looked up at you worriedly after you just stared at him gob smacked for a second.

“I-I was close.”

“Oh, I´m sorry princess,” He furrowed his eyebrows apologetically. “Let me make it up to you.”

And so he did, his lips once again meeting your clit, tongue alternating between drawing circles, flicking it side to side and whatever it was he did that got your knuckles turning white against the wall. This time Wooyoung decided to go the extra mile, you felt a little shift in bed as he stopped supporting himself in one of his arms - but your eyes were once again shut close so you weren´t able to see what he was doing. You literally mewled when one of his fingers traced your slit before slowly entering you.

He groaned against you for the nth time, you could feel how tightly your walls were squeezing his finger, but it was mostly because you had never been this turned on before. As he ate you out, his finger gently opened you up before he added another one, little gasps leaving your lips because it was just so insane.

Was Wooyoung really that good or had you just been horny for that long?

Who knew that Jung Wooyoung, the guy you were pretty sure was gay not even 2 weeks ago, was so fucking good at eating pussy?????

The pads of his fingers found a spot inside of you that no one ever did before and you found your hips subconsciously bucking against his hand every time he pulled out.

“Fuck, I´m so close.”

You took a deep breath and prepared for the wave of pleasure to wash over you -

“Did you say something?” He asked, stopping all his movements to pay attention to you.

You opened your eyes once again, Wooyoung was innocently looking up, expecting your answer, and you were about to cry out in frustration when you realized:

He was doing it on purpose.

“I will murder you.”

“Why?” He looked so genuinely confused.

“I fucking know you, Jung Wooyoung.”

The innocent boy façade crumbled down so quickly as he smirked, “You know I like it when you´re mad.”

“You got it. Happy?”

“Well, no. You haven´t begged yet.”

“I swear to god I´ll get up and go to Mingi´s-”

“Sit on my face.”

“What?”

“Sit on it, so you´ll have full control.”

Your legs got so weak suddenly.

“I´m not above begging,” Wooyoung must have taken your shock as hesitation because he was quick to offer nonchalantly with a shrug. “If that´s what it takes.”

“I´ll suffocate you-”

“And I´ll go as a happy man, now come here,” He ordered as he leaned down so his back was now flat against the mattress. “Please?”

You didn´t really need to be asked a third time - not that you´d have the chance to anyways, Wooyoung was already eagerly grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling you forwards. He somehow even felt how you were still supporting part of your weight on your knees so you wouldn´t crush him, and not happy with that, he circled his arms around your thighs and forced you to let go, falling completely on top of him – well, his face.

The worries over suffocating him were gone in an instant, though. If you thought he was good before, it was definitely because you hadn´t tried this yet. Suddenly it was worth fantasizing all these weeks about this moment, not even in your wildest dreams (and you mean that literally) did it ever reach this level of insanity.

You felt Wooyoung´s hands grabbing your ass and kind of pushing it back and forwards against his tongue, it took a few rounds of that for you to realize what he was doing.

He wanted you to ride his face.

“Fuck,” You moaned, too overwhelmed to process anything.

Wooyoung was again not happy with your lack of action and continued to forcefully grind your core against his face and your clit kept bumping against his nose and oh god, his nose.

After being edged twice already, you were terrified of there being a third time, but it was just impossible to be quiet, you were just out of your mind, you had never seen yourself like this before. I mean, you had never felt like this before either -

Were all the men you ever slept with really just that bad?

No. Mingyu was amazing in bed, Wooyoung was just... Wooyoung.

Wooyoung and his stupid fucking nose.

At some point you gave him what he wanted without even realizing, your fingers deep within the roots of his hair as you grinded against his tongue searching for your high and he seemed to be having the time of his life, moans muffled between your thighs as he moved his head to help you out.

You didn´t think Wooyoung would be able to edge you this time even if he wanted to, considering you were practically...well, immobilizing him - but you´d also never doubt Jung Wooyoung´s ability of being annoying and you were so so so fucking close.

“Please.”

Were you begging?

You?

Begging Jung Wooyoung?

Has he really driven you that low?

Wooyoung´s fingers dug into your thighs, your ass, your waist, anything he could reach - and that´s how he took you by surprise once again; about 2 seconds before your high hit, Wooyoung managed to flip you over and climb on top of you in between your legs.

“This was fun,” He smiled and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “Want to start the episode over?”

This situation was so surreal that your brain couldn´t even try to process it, staring blankly at him as your chest heaved up and down against his.

“Jung Wooyoung, I´m being so serious right now.”

“What?”

“What twisted stupid little game are you playing?”

“Oh, no games. You said we couldn´t fuck so I stopped before you know, it could get to it.”

You stared at him like he had just told you the Earth was flat. You hated him so much you hated yourself - but at the same time, it was like looking in the mirror. You felt so fucking bad to everyone you ever slept with before, if you knew how annoying it was you´d have never been the way that you are.

You could curse at him, you could yell at him, you could even kick him out of your place, but at the moment, none of that would give you what you wanted, so for now, all you had to do was take a deep breath, swallow your pride and admit you just got out-brattied by Jung Wooyoung. You could kill him after he fucked you. Wait-

or -

OR-

“Restart the episode,” You ordered after over a literal minute of silence, rolling down to his side in bed.

“What?” Oh, the amount of money you´d pay to see the look of shock and desperation on his face again. He was just so sure you´d back down and ask him to fuck you.

“Restart the episode,” You repeated yourself.

“Oh, ok,” You watched as he gulped and did as he was told, adjusting his body so he was comfortable against the pillow as he pressed play on the remote.

You unpresumptuously turned tonyour side, placing your thigh on top of Wooyoung´s and your hand on his chest, his body jumping at the contact.

“Jumpy, are we?” You teased, using his own words against him.

“What are you doing?”

“Cuddling. Relax your arm.”

Wooyoung skeptically wrapped his arm around your shoulders so you´d both be more comfortable and you snugged into him, waiting for him to get his guard down and ignoring how you could literally see his dick throbbing in his sweatpants.

Serves him right.

Once his breathing was as back to normal as possible, you decided it was time to attack. His body was still tense and you knew he was not paying attention to the TV, probably stuck in his head trying to come up with another plan since his first one failed, his feet twitching restlessly.

Maybe Mingi was right, why couldn't you two just fuck like normal people without having to write a 600 pages long tactical book on how to get to it?

Ignoring the deep voice of reason sighing in your head – Oh god, when did Mingi become the voice of reason on anything? - you quickly climb on top of Wooyoung to straddle him. He tried to sit up in reaction but your palm against his chest pushed him back down. He stared up at you in surprise, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he scrambled for something to say.

“You know what we can do, though?” You asked, bending down so you could kiss his neck.

“What?” He stuttered; shivers running up his body caused by your warm mouth against his skin.

“You´ll see.”

You felt his pulse racing under your lips, tracing his vein with kisses and gentle bites, even a suck here and there to leave a mark because you wanted him to look in the mirror for the next weeks and remember the day he lost.

Soft little moans and gasps filled your ears, his hands found your waist and held you like he wasn´t sure if he wanted to pull you closer or push you away. Wooyoung´s neck was just so sensitive, it was driving you insane.

You pushed his shirt up to his chest as you slid down his body, lips trailing their way from his abdomen to the waistline of his sweats. This time you went straight to business, pulling his pants down enough so his cock could spring free and you were so happy with that you saw: Wooyoung was so hard, painfully hard - You allowed yourself to enjoy his suffering because 1. it was his own fault and 2. revenge.

You gently wrapped your hand around his member and after wetting your lips, you pressed a kiss to his tip, his whole body shivered, and a choked moan left his mouth in response. You slowly traced his cock with your tongue from the bottom to the top and the groan echoing the walls was like music to your ears. His hands were gripping the sheets tightly. His whole body was tense.

“Wooyoung, love,” You called with the sweetest voice you could mutter up.

“What?” He answered in between gritted teeth as you finally wrapped your mouth around his tip. You circled your tongue around it slowly before giving it a gentle suck, letting spit dribble down as you pulled away. “Fuck.”

“Pay attention. I´m going to be clear from the start,” You warn him, slowly pumping his now wet cock . “I´m not finishing you off, period. Now, should I continue or should I stop?”

“Fuck. Continue,” He groaned at your ministrations.

And you obeyed. You didn´t want to tease him anymore, you just wanted to get him worked up enough that he wouldn´t be able to think properly – and then, hopefully, he´d finally throw you down and fuck you without being annoying.

You wrapped your lips around him once again, bobbing your head up and down, reaching deeper each time, twisting your hand at the base for some extra flare as Wooyoung´s hands found your roots. He bucked his hips in pleasure, pushed your head down once or twice in reaction to something you´d done, rewarded you with moans and groans. You kind of really enjoyed this but you´d be caught dead before admitting it - Wooyoung´s voice was just really nice.

“Fuck, you´re good at this,” He groaned and you simply hummed in agreement, rejoicing at the moan he let out because of the vibrations around him. “Even better than I imagined. Fuck.”

Your mind was also filled with curses, your walls desperately clenching around nothing as you mentally begged for Wooyoung to just fuck you soon or you´d cry. Hopeful, you sped up your actions, his breathing matching the fast new rhythm, and you could tell he was close by the way his hold on your hair got tighter and his hips started erratically bucking up.

Ok, showtime.

You waited for the exact moment his moans got higher to pull away from him, getting back on your knees and just staring at him, waiting to see what it was gonna be.

He looked confused, then angry, then it seemed like he finally understood what he had agreed to. He stared at you like that for a few seconds and you were kind of starting to reconsider your whole life when he interrupted you; Wooyoung sat up and grabbed your waist, flipping you around so he was on top of you once again.

“Ok, you won. Happy?” He was smiling but his eyes looked kind of dangerous, like a cat´s. His hand was around your neck, not squeezing it, just holding you down.

“Won what?” You played dumb.

“Stop,” He glared at you, unamused.

“Ok.”

“I´m going to fuck you now.”

“Ok.”

“Awn, is that all it took? Should have tried that earlier,” He teased, sitting on his knees to pull your shorts and panties down. “Need some more prepping or-”

“Oh god, please no.”

He chuckled at your reaction, bending down to give you a quick peck on the lips, “Pretty.”

Why did that little kiss make you kind of giddy when the man was literally pulling his sweats back down and positioning his cock against you?

You ignored the weird feeling as you felt Wooyoung finally entering you, a long moan echoing in the room. Why did he have to sound like that?

“You can keep going,” You urged him when he didn´t immediately start moving, you were so fucking wet you think a fire extinguisher would suffer no resistance from your walls at this point.

“Shit, wait,” He groaned with a laugh. “If I move right now, this party´s gonna be over real soon.”

“The high oh mighty sex god Wooyoung?” You teased.

“Shut up, I´ve been waiting for this for a long time,” His smile looked so attractive in that moment you kind of forgot what you were teasing him over.

“Are you going to say it´s because I´m too hot?”

“Yeah, actually.” He laughed. “I haven´t taken your shirt off yet because I don´t think I can handle seeing your boobs right night.”

You laughed too, about to continue playing with him but he interrupted you by suddenly bottoming out. You clawed at his back in reaction, a surprised deep gasp leaving your lips.

Wooyoung slowly pulled all the way out before filling you again, his hips smooth as you felt his skin against yours, the large veins on his cock brushing against your walls. Supported by both arms on your sides, he kept a languid pace, like he wanted you to feel every inch of him on every inch of you, and you were definitely feeling it. Your walls so sensitive after months of torture.

His hair fell around his face and you pushed it back with a moan, wrapping your legs around his hips. Wooyoung bent down to catch your lips with his, the kiss matching the rhythm in which he rolled his hips, sensuous and unhurried.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he broke apart from you, his arms literally shaking at the feeling of you swallowing him. “If I knew you felt like this-”

“What would you have done?” You managed to breathe out with a smirk and a roll of your eyes, incredulous at his words.

“I would have made you mine,” Wooyoung groaned as he slightly sped up his hips, your nails digging deeper on his skin and you arched your back when his cock started brushing against a certain place.

“Never took you for the ah- possessive type.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

“Fuck me like you mean it then.”

“Someone´s eager, huh?”

“If I´m crushing my moral compass, at least it should be worth it.”

He used one of his hands to grab at your cheeks once again, tighter this time, smirking down at you without slowing down his thrusts, “Ah, you want me to destroy you for any other man. Gotcha, pretty.”

Well, you never thought you´d be hearing your best friend direct those words at you – and you definitely didn´t expect to be clenching around him over it.

“Thought so,” He smiled.

You were mesmerized by the way he looked so hot with that cocky smile, by how the mole under his eye drove you crazy, by the way he looked at you with so much desire and conceitedness at the same time – you subconsciously tightened your walls around him and he definitely noticed if the way he opened his pretty lips in a moan were anything to get by.

His pace quickened up one more time and it got you seeing stars, Wooyoung laughing at your loud moan, “Admit that I´m good.”

“Does it make you harder if I stroke your ego?”

“It totally does.”

“If you wanted to be praised, just say so.”

“You wouldn´t, you don´t have it in you,” a thin layer of sweat was forming on his face, his tan skin glistening and you just wanted to lick it.

“Give me something to praise you for.”

Wooyoung laughed darkly before flipping you over without a warning, putting you on all fours with zero to no effort, cursing at the sight in front of him. He caressed his hands down your back before pushing your torso down, you groaned in surprise as your arms failed and you crashed on the bed, your left cheek meeting the sheets as he held your hips up.

“I wanted to be nice, since you know, you´re my best friend,” He rambled as he admired the view for a second before laughing. “But I know you, should´ve known you´d want to be fucked like a slut.”

“Wooyoung-”

“What? Am I lying?”

“Just get on with it,” You groaned.

He chuckled loudly at your annoyance, choosing not to bite back because he too was very much in need of having his cock inside of you, and so he did. Wooyoung grabbed his member, positioning the head against your entrance, his other hand stayed in your lower back holding you down as he pushed himself in, feeling the way every inch of you squeezed around him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn´t help but close his eyes to take the feeling in, hearing how his moans mixed with yours.

“You really were needy, huh?” He groaned, shivering at the sensations. “You´re squeezing me so hard.”

He didn´t expect an answer to that, and you wouldn´t be able to give him one anyways as he immediately began to move. You grabbed at the sheets, fingers turning whiter and whiter as Wooyoung sped up his hips, never losing the right angles to get you drooling - and you just caught yourself thinking this is something people would go to war over.

You could not hold back your moans and Wooyoung was only going faster and harder by the second, your cheek was getting burnt because of the friction with the sheets, your sensitive nipples were rubbing against the bed with each thrust, and you think your eyes were closed but you couldn't be certain.

This was a whole new world and you were not sure you´d survive adventuring in it.

Suddenly, you were dragged away from your state of pure bliss by the hair – literally. Wooyoung had grabbed at your strands to pull you up against him, forcing you to stand on your knees, his chest pressed to your back.

In this new position, his cock reached deeper into you and his skin dragged against different spots of your walls. You were babbling away, complete nonsense, especially when Wooyoung took advantage of the easy access to start sucking harshly on your neck, your hand flying to his thigh behind you, where you dug your nails into. When he was done, he grabbed at the hem of your shirt, lifting it off you in one quick pull, looking over your shoulder at the view. You didn´t miss the way his cock twitched inside of you, his groan right against your ear. Wooyoung hands automatically flied to your boobs, massaging them, squeezing them, toying with your nipples while not slowing down his hips one bit.

“Hang in there,” Wooyoung ordered when he felt how your walls were spasming around him, voice shaky because of his non-stopping thrusts.

“I can´t.”

“Will you really give me the – ah – satisfaction of cumming first?” You could feel his smile against your neck, before he bit your skin playfully.

It was not even on purpose the way you clenched around Wooyoung, earning a whine from him in response, his forehead meeting your shoulder. The smirk you let out thought, was completely on purpose. You wouldn´t let him get that cocky.

“Don´t worry, pretty. I´m a gentleman, ladies are always first,” He managed to tease in between thrusts. One of his hands left your boob, snaking it softly down your abdomen until his fingers found your clit.

You were a goner. Wooyoung´s cock ravished you while he drew circles against your clit with the pad of his middle finger, his lips on your neck left wet kisses all over, vibrating against your skin with each moan he let out. His left hand was still playing with your boobs and you felt tears stinging your eyes from the way you were holding your orgasm inside, not wanting him to win this new silent war. Your teeth sunk into the back of your hand to keep yourself grounded, squeezing your eyes shut to relieve the burn.

Wooyoung felt what you were doing, chuckling darkly against your ear as he finally left your neck alone, “Who would have thought, huh? Miss we´re-never-fucking crying on my cock.”

You tried to fight back, but the second you left your hand go, a moan filled the room and your head fell. Wooyoung´s left hand abandoned your boobs to find its new place around your neck, holding your head up on his shoulder, and no matter how much you fought it, the moment he squeezed his fingers around your throat, you couldn´t hold it in anymore.

“Woo,” You tried to warn him, hands looking for anything you could grab behind yourself and finding his hair.

He pressed around your neck harder, turning his head so his lips would be right against your ear as he pleaded, “Let go. I need to see how you look when you cum, I´ve been imagining it for so long. You sound so good, you feel so good, fuck.”

And suddenly, it´s like everything went quiet for a second before it all exploded, destroying everything on its way. The orgasm ripped you apart like an atomic bomb, engulfing you whole, leaving you blind, deaf and shaking. You gasped for air, feeling like your legs were failing you after the waves of pleasure were still hitting you for way longer than they should. Wooyoung in turn, after fantasizing about this for so long, expected to be ready for it, but oh boy, he wasn´t. Even if he fucked you for years, he doesn´t think he´d ever be prepared for the way your walls clenched around him so tight he almost couldn´t move, or the way you pulled on his hair harshly enough to almost rip his strands out, but what he would never get over, was how you sounded; not even in his craziest fantasies could he ever create such beautiful sounds – he was 99.5% sure he would be able to cum just by listening to your moans alone. So whiny, so desperate, so you.

He didn´t stop, ensuring you´d have the best damn orgasm of your life, his fingers working on you all throughout your high, even when he felt his own approaching, bucking his hips into you like an animal just desperate to get there. His teeth found the juncture of your shoulder and neck once again as he reached his peak in a few deep thrusts, holding onto you for dear life. Only then his fingers stopped and you finally started coming back to reality, feeling as Wooyoung came inside of you, hearing his heavy breathing against your skin, the way his fingers let go slightly from your neck and how he pressed a few chaste kisses to your neck as he came down from his high, paying special attention to his bite mark.

“Fuck,” He managed to breath out, gently removing his hands from you.

As expected, you immediately tumbled down into the bed, legs completely gone at the point. You whined at him for dropping you and he simply chuckled tiredly, muttering a sorry before flopping down next to you. Your eyes were closed but you felt his weight next to you as he gently removed your hair out of your face.

“So?” He asked.

“So what?” You groaned, not bothering to look at him.

“Feeling better?”

“Ask me again when my legs stop shaking.”

“Well, I guess that´s an answer on its own.”

Wooyoung had created a whole new problem without knowing it. Yes, it was truth that you got the sexual frustration and touch deprivation out of you, but now you´d never be able to get over this. You´d remember how Wooyoung ate you out every time you met, of how he fucked you until you cried every time you looked at your bed, how he made you ride his face every time you looked at his stupid nose; and the worst part was that, once you get needy again, you won´t want anyone else to fix it for you. Wooyoung truly ruined you for any other man.

“Can you tell me if I did a good job, at least?” His voice sounded soft, so you opened your eyes to look at him because the tone and the question were so out of character for him.

“The Jung Wooyoung worried about others´ opinions?”

“I wouldn´t if it was anyone else, but it´s you.”

“Woo, don´t get cocky,” You warned with a sigh. “And if you ever bring this up I´ll deny it until the day I die, but this was life changing.”

“Oh, wow. I really did fuck you stupid.”

“And you´ve ruined it,” You rolled your eyes.

“C´mon, I´m just playing. I´m glad I made you feel good. What do you want from me now? Cuddles? Something to drink?”

And suddenly you remember why this whole mess started in the first place.

“Yeah, actually.”

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

“Stop looking at me like you´re in love with me,” You warned as the hot water comfortably burned your skin.

“I do love you,” His eyes looked so soft under the moonlight shining through the window.

“I said in love, not love.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Yeah?”

He shrugged, “All I know is that I love you.”

“Awn, you like like me?” You teased.

“Would that be such a horrible idea?”

“Wooyoung.”

“What?”

“You´re pussy drunk.”

“That too,” He lazily smiled, gently hugging you under the stream so you were chest to chest.

You felt his hot skin against yours as he simply held you there in the dark, his chin resting on top of your head as he softly swinged the two of you side to side, your hands around his waist. This was heaven to you; this is what you were literally crying over all those weeks ago.

“We should try it out,” He continued after a few minutes of comfortable silence, running his fingers down your back.

“What?”

“Dating.”

You laughed at the idea, knowing he didn´t really mean it, “I don´t think that would go very well.”

“Why not?”

“I mean, we´re complete opposites. I´d give it less than two months before we´re calling it quits and choking each other to death.”

“We´ll never know until we try.”

“And you decided you want to?”

“I guess. Turn around, let me shampoo your hair.”

You obeyed, handing him the bottle so he could get to work, the chill air immediately hitting you.

“Wooyoung, I know you love me, but I don´t think you do romantically.”

“I´m not sure I know the difference,” He answered genuinely, rubbing the shampoo onto your roots. “But I do know that I want to be able to kiss you again.”

And he was right, you didn´t need to overcomplicate things as usual, it was as simple as that: you also wanted to kiss him again, so why not?

“Ok, yeah. I guess we could try. First Cristiano Ronaldo impression and we´re breaking up, though.”

A/N: Who wants a little epilogue of how their dating experience will go? lol

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draconic-desire · 6 months ago

Text

🔶 Rex Dracorum 🔶

Yandere Zhongli x Reader

At this year’s Lantern Rite, you happen to cross paths with a dragon, much to the chagrin of the one who holds you in the palm of his hand. The result has you trapped between them.

Warnings: Very brief mention of nsfw at the end, implied kidnapping, forced relationship, yandere behavior. Basically my version of what would have happened if Zhongli and Neuvillette actually met at the Rite…

Despite the contract irrevocably binding you to the Lord of Geo, its progenitor allows you a surprising number of freedoms.

Sometimes, you can pretend like he didn’t steal your life away with a simple signature. That he didn’t back you into a corner, making you decide between two evils: to be his wife and mate, or watch as everything and everyone you ever cherished suffer the wrath of the rock.

Why me?, you would plead aloud, desperate for any loophole, any escape from your contract. Why a mortal geologist with only a few mora to her name?

You’re one of the few who appreciates the rock over the gem, my precious lapis, he’d reply cryptically. Always riddles and non-answers, layered statements garnished with polished words.

If you could reverse time, you would have refused his invitation for tea that first time. Little did you know that each of those subsequent meetings, each time you spent listening to his fantastical tales shared between steaming cups, you were digging your grave a foot deeper, his hold on you constricting an inch further.

Perhaps if you had rejected him outright, he would have viewed you not as a unique mineral, but as another insignificant pebble in a sea of endless, colorless sediment. As no more than the dirt beneath his boot.

Instead, you must seek refuge from him and his stifling, suffocating presence in the times between the cracks, like now, as you take in the transformed Liyue Harbor, adorned with lights and colors brighter than any precious stone.

Hailing from Liyue, the Lantern Rite has always been a time of celebration and reflection for you and your family. Now it represents one of the only times the invisible shackles are lifted from your frame.

Although Zhongli does initially insist on walking you through the harbor, arms interlocked as he parades you around while monologuing about Liyue’s rich history, he permits you to venture off on your own and explore while he entertains his associates or work clients during the day. Although you know there are constantly eyes on you, usually a certain grumbling yaksha, this precious time almost feels like normal.

Today, you’ve decided on a stroll through Qiaoyang Village. The quiet, leisurely existence that its inhabitants have adopted fills you with a rare tranquility. Walking at a slow pace among the many street vendors, the scent of tea leaves, fresh mint and spices, permeates your nose, beckoning you forward. Your tea stocks at home are getting a bit low, you mentally remark, and having some of your own gives you an excuse to occasionally opt out of the times Zhongli wants to drag you out again.

Your mind set, you turn to find yourself a fraction of a second from running straight into a wall of boxes.

No—looking down, you spot a pair of black and gold boots, leading up to black trousers and elegant blue robes. A pair of matching gloves holds the boxes in place. There’s actually a person carrying all of those parcels.

Due to the boxes obscuring their view, they notice you too late—with startlingly quick reflexes, they manage to avoid running into you, but given their sudden halt mid-step, the boxes in their arms go toppling to the ground.

You gasp at your stupidity and immediately drop to your knees to maintain the stranger’s fallen goods. Embarrassed at your carelessness, you stumble over your words. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t see you—”

A gloved hand rests on your own scrambling fingers, calming your frantic attempt to organize the items. “No apologies necessary. I am the one at fault for not being more alert.”

Turning to face the stranger, who is now crouching beside you, the air in your lungs extinguishes as your eyes lock.

Undoubtedly, this man is one of the most handsome individuals you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Long, silver hair cascades around his sharp, defined features: almond eyes with striking lilac irises, high cheekbones and full lips, a tall, muscular frame clearly sculpted with subtle muscle. His attire—sapphire robes, adorned with lighter accents and intricate whirls of ocean blues—is clearly of expensive taste and sophistication. The jabot and dewdrop pendant around his neck suggest he’s Fontainian, perhaps associated with the court there.

You must look like a gaping fish out of water, for the man helps you to your feet with a kind smile. “I must have given you quite the startle. Are you feeling alright?”

His deep baritone rings through you, similar yet so unlike the proud voice of the Geo Archon you’ve grown accustomed to. Blinking twice, you regain your bearings and pray to the Seven—excluding one in particular, who would be very unhappy with you—that the man didn’t notice you gawking at him. “Ah, yes, I’m fine. Again, I’m very sorry for being so distracted. If any of your items are damaged, I’m more than happy to pay for replacements.”

“That is quite generous of you, but I can assure you that won’t be necessary. You see, these boxes merely contain tea, nothing more.” To prove his claim, he bends down to retrieve a box that opened when it landed, revealing simple, sealed bags of leaves.

Your shoulders sag in relief. It truly seems like no damage was done. “Well, at least let me help you wrap them up together. I know a trick that will make carrying them all much easier.”

The white-haired male nods, followed by a subtle smile. “That’s very kind of you. I accept your proposal.”

After a quick stop at another stall to buy twine, you start to work on binding the boxes together. You count more than ten in total—who needs that much tea, anyway? The amount of it is almost comical, but you can’t bring yourself to actually poke fun of the man. Not when he’s looking at you with such an endearing smile. Like he’s seeing you, not just the wife of the Lord of Geo.

Your face heats. “So,” you start, trying to focus on your knots and ties and not the stranger’s eyes boring into you, “can I ask why you’re carrying so much tea?”

“Well, I originally was transporting some goods back to Fontaine for my friends and colleagues, but I decided to partake myself. It was buy ten boxes get half off,” he replies, as calmly as if he were stating an obvious fact.

You can’t help it. A giggle escapes your lips as you quirk your head to the side. The innocence with which this man admitted to being scammed endears you greatly, and you can’t help but play along with him. “You know, that’s a pretty good deal.”

He smiles, then, a subtle thing paired with a tinge of pink along his cheeks. “I thought so, too.”

Your smile grows in tandem. Speaking to others, especially other men, without your husband hovering above the conversation is quite rare for you these days—though you have no doubt you’ll be questioned about it later once Xiao reports the encounter to him, if he hasn’t already—

A hand rests on your shoulder, the landing a bit too heavy and the grip a bit too tight. “Ah, my beautiful wife. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

The sound of Zhongli’s voice sends a jump through your bones. Archons, you knew you were being followed, but you’ve never been located and corralled this quickly. A flame of indignation, which has long since dimmed from an inferno to a mere flicker, sparks in your chest. You’re rightly upset that your time has been cut short, and even before you learned this interesting and undeniably attractive foreigner’s name.

You look up at Zhongli and open your mouth to explain the situation, that you were merely helping the other man secure his absurd amount of tea boxes, but the words die in your throat.

The Lord of Geo’s amber gaze is sharp and deadly as stone, directed at the other man. His jaw tightens and he grinds out, “Neuvillette.”

The silver-haired man’s eyes narrow as his gaze roams from the hand on your shoulder to meet Zhongli’s glower. “Rex.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance back and forth between the two men who look two moments away from ripping each other to ribbons. It’s obvious they know each other, and the name Neuvillette rings a bell of recognition in your mind. But what really concerns you is the term by which Neuvillette called Zhongli. To your knowledge, no one refers to your captor as Rex Lapis except Xiao, who knows of his draconic—

Oh. Oh.

The realization slams into you with a wave of clarity as your head slowly turns toward the other man. The silver, slitted pupils, the shimmering blue horns and pointed ears, the aura of power and hydro around him…

Horrified, your mouth falls open as you truly take in this man, Neuvillette.

No, not a man. The restored leader of Fontaine, the Hydro Sovereign.

You’ve been casually conversing with not only a dragon, but also the Chief Justice of the Region of Justice. One of the original powerhouses of Teyvat, from which the Seven gained their gnoses. And, given the death of the Hydro Archon, there is currently only one in existence restored to their full power.

“Shit,” you breathe, a bit too loudly. Purple and gold irises snap to you in sync, one filled with thinly veiled concern and questioning and the other with building anger and possession.

On cue, Zhongli snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you taut against his side. You swear you feel the hint of claws digging into your skin through the fabric of your dress, the remnants of his exuvia form.

“I had hoped to avoid meeting you here,” Zhongli states, eyes roaming over the scene, the scattered tea boxes, the twine in your hand, as he pieces together the situation, “but my wife is too kind for her own good sometimes.”

Neuvillette’s eyes browse over your form, examining your tense muscles and downtrodden eyes, the arms that remain at your sides. He’s seen cases just like this time and time again in court, but even so, it doesn’t take a legal profession to ascertain that you’re not particularly fond of your husband. And given Morax’s propensity for contracts, Neuvillette’s senses immediately go on alert.

The Chief Justice clears his throat. “Not at all. I think it quite generous of her to have dedicated her time to making my travels easier.” He tries to give you a reassuring smile, but you’re too focused on Zhongli who, despite his collected demeanor, you realize is a thread away from snapping.

Just what kind of battle between dragons have you gotten yourself into the middle of?

“Is that so? Perhaps she took pity on an old man such as yourself. I hear it can be difficult to carry so much after you’ve departed from your prime.”

“Old man?” Neuvillette barks a laugh, but quickly coughs and regains his composure. “Quite ironic coming from you, Rex. Besides, I feel quite reinvigorated these days. One can only assume it’s due to the balances of power returning to their rightful due.”

Zhongli flashes a hint of his canines, the only giveaway to his building rage. “Rightful is quite a biased term. We wouldn’t want to start a war now, would we?”

Neuvillette’s eyes glint like a sword ready for battle. “And you would know quite a bit about inciting wars, wouldn’t you, Rex?”

Dear Archons, you need to stop this before these two lunge at each other’s throats.

“Zhongli,” you try to placate with a soft voice, the name and tone you know he so adores from you, “I believe that Neu—uh, the Chief Justice was on his way back to Fontaine. I only wanted to help him wrap up his purchases correctly for the journey. If we assist him together, then we can head to the Pavilion for tea after, yes?” Part of you is disgusted at yourself for having to grovel, but you can’t allow two immensely powerful draconic beings to brawl over tea in the middle of the village.

Though you have an strong inkling that the argument isn’t over tea.

Your suggestion lands. Zhongli’s muscles relax as he peers down at you, those immovable, amber eyes softening slightly as he drinks you in. The roaming hands across your back and waist, however, hint that you’ll be getting an earful in private. Though of the likely punishments he has in store for you, that’s the least of your worries.

With a single snap of his fingers, Zhongli uses the power of geo to bind Neuvillette’s parcels together. “There. Consider the issue resolved. My wife and I have matters to attend to.”

Zhongli quickly begins to pull you away, and you think you hear a growl over your shoulder from Neuvillette’s direction. “Careful, Rex. I would be most displeased to have to take one of your contracts to court. In the face of the law, they aren’t as omnipotent as you believe them to be.”

You wince, the statement hitting a bit too close to home. Zhongli, on the other hand, goes as still as stone. “That sounds awfully like a threat, Neuvillette.”

“A mere warning. It is of your own fault to read too deeply into it.”

Neuvillette then turns his attention to you, placing a single tea box into your shaking hands. You have no clue when he separated it from the rest.

Leaning in, his voice drops, low enough to be directed to you, yet you know Zhongli hears it clearly. “You are more than welcome to Fontaine. I will see to your accommodations personally, if you so choose to visit. I believe a spirit like yours would be greatly appreciated in our nation.”

All you can do is shake your head forlornly. Never in a million lifetimes will Zhongli allow it, not even before this encounter. You’ll have to settle for seeing Fontaine through your dreams alone.

Straightening with a frown but understanding the position you must be in, of the contract that binds you to the Geo Archon, Neuvillette lets the matter drop. He turns to leave, but not before throwing over his shoulder, “And her name isn’t wife, Rex. It’s…”

You swallow thickly. “(Y/n),” you finish, a mere breath.

Neuvillette gives you a final smile in return. “My offer will always stand, (Y/n). Happy Lantern Rite.”

Moments after he’s out of sight, Zhongli dips his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and rubbing his over your skin. “You stink of that other male…but I know how to amend that.”

Needless to say, you did not make it to tea that afternoon.

It wasn’t until that night when Zhongli was asleep, clawed limbs and scaly tail entangled with your naked form, that you deem it safe to open the tea box Neuvillette gifted to you.

Core pounding, you grimace as you stand, the many possessive and claiming bite marks and bruises across your skin even worse than usual. He didn’t lie about wiping any scent of the other dragon away, if the past few hours of nonstop sex were any indication.

You make your way to the kitchen trash, where Zhongli had immediately disposed of it upon arriving home. Heart pounding, you lift the lid.

A shimmering blue vision reflects in your pupils.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere zhongli #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yanderecore #yandere male #yandere #zhongli #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #subtle yandere neuvillette?#not really I like to make him a soft lil cutie #lantern rite

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synthetickitsune · 4 months ago

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Joshua (SVT) | Hand sizes fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader (but reader has smaller hands than shua) A/N: SOMEONE (ehm ehm @hanniedream) mentioned shua's hands to me and now i wanna die

“You know,” Joshua starts out of nowhere, pausing the show you were watching, and licks his lips, “You’re literally dating me and you never asked for something the fans ask me for all the time.”

You scoff, but a smirk plays on your lips while you turn towards him. “I’d hope so. What kind of kinky shit is it?”

He rolls his eyes with a sigh. “It’s innocent, pervert.”

“Okay, sorry, what is it then?”

You watch with a confused frown as your boyfriend sets the remote down and shows his palm to you. When you don’t catch on, he continues: “You never asked to compare hand sizes with me.”

You blink at him a couple times with a deadpan expression.

“We’re literally holding hands all the time.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the same,” he pouts and nods towards his hand. You quirk a brow at him.

“Joshua, I don’t need to compare your hand with mine to know yours is enormous,” you try to say it gently, but the situation is too unserious. He shuffles closer to you, angling his whole body towards you. You watch with nothing but pure amusement as he huffs when you make no move to do the same, so he has to adjust his position, pull your legs up and over his own thighs and then pull you closer. “You’re cute.”

“And you’re being difficult and mean,” he narrows his eyes at you.

“Mean? Avoiding holding hands from now on would be mean,” you tease, relishing in the way his eyes widen and the disbelieving sigh from his lips, “But I’m not doing that, am I?”

“I bet you will though,” he murmurs, his lips pouted and his eyes holding the same hurt as a puppy that was denied treats. You sigh, reassuring him you wouldn’t do that to him. “Prove it then. Hold my hand, I dare you.”

It’s a trap. Of course it’s a fucking trap. You know it, he knows it, he knows you know it, and you know he knows you know it. Everyone knows it.

Just the same as everyone should know that your very petty boyfriend will give you the cold shoulder while doing his best to pretend he isn’t actually doing that if you refuse. You’re also pretty sure the pout would get stuck on that pretty face, which might not be as bad, but it’d be one more thing for him to whine about. Again, not that bad. Why are you letting him manipulate you then?

You slide your hand into his extended one. In your last effort to get some control over this situation you pull his hand to your lips and slowly kiss his knuckles. “There, I’m holding your hand.”

Joshua smiles, leaning over your hands to kiss you, to connect your lips as well.

“Thank you,” he coos sweetly, kissing your cheek right after.

And then, inevitably, he pulls aways and in one quick maneuver has your palm pressed against his. He chuckles like he’s surprised that his hand is bigger than yours. Honestly you wonder if there’s anyone you know whose hands are bigger than your boyfriend’s. You smile at him fondly. He’s so easy to please sometimes, acting like he pulled off some grand scheme when it’s just… this.

“Wow,” he bites his lip and looks at you, “I won.”

“Yeah, like, you won the genetic lottery in every way. What a surprise, I haven’t noticed until now,” you roll your eyes, but you let him have his fun and don’t pull your hand away just yet. He covers it with his, now his time to kiss the back of your hand and rub his cheek against it.

“Sounds like you’re flirting with me,” he draws out the last syllable, grinning at you like you just admitted your darkest secret to him. Cute. He’s being too cute.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Can we go back to the show now?”

You free your hand, only to change your mind at the last second - after seeing Joshua starting to pursue his lips again - and run it through his hair. You shake your head when he leans into your touch.

“Say you love me,” he demands softly.

“I love you,” you say with your hand cupping his cheek. He turns his head to press a kiss to your palm before helping you untangle yourself from him and pressing the play button.

It doesn’t take long for him to pull you into his side and guide your head to his shoulder. It’s the perfect position to see him bite back a smile when you hold his hand under the blanket.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #joshua fluff #svthub #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #joshua x reader #svt scenarios #svt fluff #svt reactions #joshua scenarios #drabble #fluff

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tojisun · 7 months ago

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hockey player simon pt 02 // pt 01

simon topples to the ground, his padded knees hitting the ice. he feels bodies pile on top of him, gear and feet pressing into his sides, not with ill intentions—well, not completely with ill intentions—but simon does not care.

he saw that winning shot land, heard the cries of their fans—they're playing in home rink too—and feels the thrill of victory wash over him.

the referees pull them off each other and simon finally gets to stand. his chest is heaving, the cool air and the heat of his exhausted body causing miasmic reactions into his being. add that pretty doll of a fan he’s been eyeing into the mix, and the feeling of elation bloats.

peaking.

they rush off court, their coach trying to contain their buzzed energy just enough to be able to properly burn it off in the weight room. simon lags at the very back, eyes still flicking to that section in the audience as though by doing so, he’d get a quick glance of you.

of course he doesn’t, not when everyone’s turned into blurred specks—compact seas of their jersey colours.

“riley!” their coach hollers. “let’s go, let’s go!”

simon shoots towards him, his sheathed skates thudding against the padded floor as he makes his way into the weight room. johnny claps him on his back, their team cheering for him as he passes them on his way to the bench press, but he couldn’t really focus, not with his mind running; trying to make excuses that’d allow him to slip away just for a moment to scour the arena for, well, you, but nothing ever sticks.

every single one sounds pathetic and impractical. say, he was given the go-signal to roam around, what exactly are the chances he’d come across you again?

apparently, one-fuckin’-hundred percent.

“oh!” you gasp upon seeing him, your palm falling flat atop your chest in your surprise.

simon stumbles to his feet himself, his previous finesse on ice apparently having gotten zapped out the moment he’s back on land. garrick and mactavish turn, not expecting simon to stop, and even your friends, it seem, did not expect this run-in, as well.

simon watches as your lips part open, like you are gearing yourself up for a word, only to shut them close in your hesitation. you flit your eyes to him and away again, shyness rippling from your very movements.

he takes pity on you, and greets, “hey.”

it’s late when he realizes that he’s raised his hand up for a weak, little wave. he hears the distinct muffled laughter from mactavish already. garrick, at least, has the decency to actually smother it.

muppets, the two of them.

“hi!” you reply, giddy, your face beaming as you smile up at him.

lord, he thinks, you’re even more beautiful up close.

simon can’t help the way his lips tug up too, his own heart churning at the elation that is still singing in his veins. he pretends to not notice the way your friends shimmy out of his eyesight, pointing to their phones as though to say just give them a ring when you are done with your business with simon, before they run away, giggling to each other.

he twists to make discreet eye contact with his teammates. he tilts his head to the side, hoping to christ almighty that they take the hint.

go away.

he almost rejoices when they actually do, the two of them sending you polite smiles before walking away too. with your back turned to them, they make smooching actions, mactavish has even turned his back to simon, crossed his arms over himself, and ran his hands over his sides in mimicry of a hot make-out session.

garrick barks out a laugh, the sound ricocheting, and it takes your startled glance back at them for the two to truly scurry away.

you turn around to see him pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“sorry about them,” he murmurs, hand leaving his face to rub at the back of his neck. he feels his ears burning, surely flushed in his secondhand embarrassment.

“that’s okay,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. a jersey—his number. “congratulations, by the way.”

then, your smile grows bigger. brighter. “you were so cool! you went zoomin’ to our side and next thing we know you were–”

your words peter into a quiet stutter, like the events are unfolding in your memories the way his are too.

he remembers the high of having pointed at you; dedicating the winning shot to the fan whose awed look lit the fire in him. he remembers the certainty in him that he was going to land that shot; so sure he was of his victory.

it was exhilarating. dizzying.

“was it– did you mean it?”

“of course,” he croaks out, sweltering from within.

“oh,” you murmur, breathless, before whispering to him your name.

simon repeats it out loud, and it drips from his tongue like he was meant to always sound it out. like your name was meant for him to call.

you stare up at him with those beautiful, dazzling eyes, and he knows that he’s addicted. hooked.

“do you want to grab somethin’?” he asks, desperate to be with you for as long as you’ll let him.

“yes,” you reply, eyes crinkling in your delighted smile. “that’d be wonderful.”

you two walk side-by-side, mere inches between your shoulder and his, but simon wants you closer. he wants to bask in your warmth, in your scent. what do you smell like? something sweet and floral? or something clean?

he wants so much more.

as you warm up to him, smiling and laughing, and exchanging shy banters that has him feeling parched, simon realizes that there’s something beyond winning the playoffs and the cup that he is so desperate to fulfill.

fuck me.

this is still very much delusions of the heart but let me have it pls 😭 more than anything, i enjoyed writing hockey au sm and honestly i think u guys might have to pry this out of my clasped hands hhdhsh

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #hockey au #suns #the delusions are through the roof pls dont @ me bc id actually cry 😭

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rafesangelita · 4 months ago

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lmaoo what if rafe made cookies for pogue!sweetheart!reader using her recipe but he accidentally used salt for sugar or something like that but reader see’s how proud he is of his creation so she pretends to like them even though they’re awful. you don’t have to write this but if you do, thank you so much!!!!

warnings: reader being the sweetest gf, suggestive ending, slight humor (?)

“honey, i’m home!” rafe jokingly shouted from the front door of your camper, a tupperware full of cookies in his hand. “i have a surprise for you.” he smiled as you threw your arms around him, stepping on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “aww, ray..” you melted at the sight, your heart blooming in your chest at the sentiment. “i decided to give your recipe a try. ‘wanted to bake for you since you’re always baking for everyone else.” he handed you the container.

“oh my god.” you opened the lid, a little confused that you couldn’t smell anything sweet. “rafe, these look amazing!” you sat down, offering him one to taste. “nah, i want to see your reaction first.” he shook his head, taking a seat across from you. smiling nervously, you held one up, not seeing anything wrong with it. “pretty color, soft texture.. you might be me i’m afraid.” taking a bite, you immediately refrained from making a face.

you felt like you had just bit into a block of salt. “well?” making a quick recovery, you moaned delightfully, flashing rafe a reassuring smile. “it’s.. wow!” you nodded enthusiastically, quite literally forcing yourself to chew. rafe’s gaze faltered. “you don’t like them?” your panicked at the disappointment in his tone. he was so excited walking in here and now his shoulders had fallen in defeat. “are you crazy?! they’re perfect!” you took another bite, immediately coughing.

“are you sure?” he sounded unconvinced. “uh, yeah! you could put me out of business with these..” you laughed, waiting for him to look away before you hid the rest of the cookie behind the vase of flowers on the table. “now you’re making me want to try one.” he smiled, popping one in his mouth before you could stop him. you gasped, watching as his face morphed into one of disgust. “jesus, fuck, y/n—” he ran to your kitchen sink, “that should be a crime.” rafe spat.

you couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. “i’m so sorry i subjected you to that. why didn’t you tell me that they tasted like they fell out of a salt shaker?!” he wiped his mouth with his shirt, exposing his glorious abs underneath. “you were so excited to show me rafe, i didn’t want to shut you down.” you pouted, cupping his face. “it was just a little mistake, next time we’ll make sure that it’s sugar that you mix in.” both of you laughed, the cookies long forgotten on the table.

“i may have messed those up, but i still have a sweet tooth..” rafe backed you up into the counter, his large hands resting on the curve of your ass. “yeah?” you teased, trailing a finger down his arm. he hummed. “yeah. you have some dessert for me?” you smiled, eyes flickering to your bed in the corner. “find out.”

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pucksandpower · 10 months ago

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Thawed

Kimi Räikkönen x sunshine!Reader

Summary: the many times throughout the years that only the warmth of his wife could thaw the Iceman

“He’s just so … cold,” your aunt comments, wrinkling her nose at Kimi’s back as he heads to the bar. It’s the first time you’ve brought him to a family event.

You bristle, prepared to defend your new boyfriend. “He’s not cold once you get to know him. He’s just a private person.”

Your aunt sniffs. “Still, he barely said two words all night. And that nickname — the Iceman! I don’t like it.”

You straighten your spine. “Well I do. His thoughtfulness and loyalty outweigh any lack of words.”

As you speak, you feel your doubts about mismatched personalities fade. Opposites attract for a reason.

Your aunt looks unconvinced, but you pay her no mind. You’re falling for the quiet Finn with a heart of gold. And you won’t let anyone’s disapproval chill that flame.

When Kimi returns, you lean up and kiss his cheek fondly. He looks pleasantly surprised. Let them judge. You see the real man inside.

***

“Smash it! Smash it!” The rowdy groomsman chants as you and Kimi cut into your wedding cake.

Other guests take up the chant, clamoring for Kimi to shove cake in your face per tradition. But you had quietly asked him not to — you don’t want frosting up your nose and ruining your makeup on your wedding day.

Kimi’s eyes meet yours, a silent question. You give a slight shake of your head. His expression hardens with resolve.

In one smooth motion, he whirls and smashes the slice of cake directly into the rowdy groomsman’s face. Icing splatters everywhere. The room goes silent.

“Here you go, since you seem to want the cake smashed so bad,” Kimi says coldly.

The groomsman splutters in shock. You have to hide your smile behind your hand.

Kimi winks at you as he licks icing off his fingers. “Now, where were we?”

Heart swelling, you lean in to kiss your wonderful, cake-covered husband. No one gets in the way of your wishes on your wedding day.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you make your way through the crowds, weaving between mechanics and engineers going about their race day routines. The smells of rubber and gasoline hang thick in the air. You smile and nod at familiar faces, receiving knowing looks in return.

Everyone here knows who you are — the bubbly, outgoing wife of the Iceman himself. The unlikely pairing has been the talk of Formula 1 ever since you started dating a few years ago. You’re warm and chatty. He’s cool and laconic. But somehow, it works.

You find Kimi in the Ferrari motorhome, sipping an energy drink, game face on. His brows are furrowed in concentration, icy grey eyes focused straight ahead. You know not to disturb him right now. This is business time.

Slipping into the seat beside him, you pull out your phone and scroll aimlessly, letting the comfortable silence stretch between you. The hustle and noise of the paddock fades into the background.

Finally, Kimi drains the last drops from his can and crushes it in his hand. He turns to you, the stern expression melting away. His eyes soften and the corners of his mouth tick upward ever so slightly.

“Morning,” he says quietly, voice gravelly.

You beam at him. “Good morning, love. Ready to go racing today?”

He nods, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I did, thanks to my very comfy race driver pillow.” You wink.

Kimi snorts, the creases around his eyes deepening. He leans in and presses a quick kiss to your temple.

Around you, mechanics and team members try and fail to pretend they aren’t glancing your way, still not used to seeing the Iceman so openly affectionate. But Kimi doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“I’ll see you after,” he says, standing up and giving your hand a squeeze. His face settles back into cool concentration as he strides out to prepare for the race.

You settle in to watch qualifying, heart swelling with pride and love for your Finnish fireball.

***

“Kimi, the stewards want to speak with you about the incident with Perez on lap 37.”

Kimi’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing. “Typical,” he mutters.

You touch his arm reassuringly. “Go on, I’ll wait here for you.”

He nods, striding off to the steward’s office, race suit half unzipped and hair disheveled. You know he’ll be lucky to escape without a penalty. Kimi has never been one to mince words or hide his displeasure with other drivers. You can only imagine the icy staredown happening behind those closed doors right now.

Twenty minutes later, he emerges looking ready to smash a table. You jump up and hurry over.

“Well? What did they say?”

Kimi’s scowl deepens, if that’s even possible. “Ten second penalty. Ridiculous.” He spits out something in Finnish you’re glad you don’t understand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. You drove brilliantly today.”

He shakes his head and stalks down the hall towards the paddock. You scurry after him, nearly jogging to match his long angry strides.

“Forget it. Not your fault the stewards are blind.”

You slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together. Immediately you feel some of the tension leave his body. He glances down at you, the hint of a smile breaking through the thunderclouds.

“Let’s get out of here,” you say gently. “I’ll make you your favorite dinner, open a nice bottle of wine ...”

He nods, expression softening. “Okay. Sounds good.”

You smile up at him, giving his hand a squeeze. The stormy Finn may have a heart of ice on the track, but you know better. He just needs a little sunshine sometimes.

***

You pause in the kitchen doorway, heart melting at the scene before you. Kimi sits on the living room floor, your baby niece perched happily in his lap. He bounces her gently on his knee as she squeals with delight, the hint of a smile on his usually stoic face.

“Faster Unca Kimi, faster!” She cries, unruly curls flying.

He chuckles and picks up the pace, eliciting delighted giggles from her. Your sister watches nearby, still looking a bit bemused at seeing the Iceman so good natured and playful.

Finally Kimi stops, feigning exhaustion. “Whew, that’s enough for Uncle Kimi,” he says, lifting her up and pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. “You’re too fast!”

She dissolves into giggles and wraps her tiny arms around his neck in a hug. He hugs her back, looking more content than you’ve ever seen him. Your heart feels fit to burst.

“Who wants ice cream?” You announce, carrying in two bowls.

“Me, me!” Your niece starts to squirm in Kimi’s lap, reaching eagerly for her treat.

He stands, swinging her up easily onto his shoulders. “Let’s go have ice cream on the porch, give your mama a break,” he says. She kicks her little legs gleefully.

Your sister shoots you a grateful smile as Kimi carries her outside. You grin and wink. Who would believe it — the Iceman, a big softie for kids. But you know better. Under that cool exterior beats a heart of gold.

***

The crowds pressing around the circuit are suffocating today. Fans shove programs and merch at you for Kimi to sign. One overzealous teenage boy tries to wrap you in an uninvited hug.

Suddenly Kimi is there, gently but firmly detaching the boy’s hands from your arms. His face is thunderous.

“Back. Off.” The boy stumbles away wide-eyed.

Kimi keeps a protective grip on your shoulder as he marches you briskly from the paddock. Once inside the privacy of the motorhome, he cups your face in his hands.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His tone is urgent.

You shake your head, still a bit shaken. “Just got grabby. Thank you for the rescue.”

Kimi exhales, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don’t like you getting swarmed out there.”

You smile wryly. “Hazards of being Mrs. Iceman.”

He brushes his thumb over your cheek. “I just want to keep you safe. Those crowds make me nervous.”

You kiss him softly. “I’ll be okay.”

His eyes bore into yours, icy blue melting into tenderness. “Still. Stay close to me out there from now on. So I can protect what’s most precious.”

Your heart flutters under his intent gaze. You lace your fingers through his, feeling infinitely cherished.

“Always.”

***

“Kimi, your phone is ringing again,” you call from the couch.

He doesn’t respond, gaze fixed intently on the TV as he navigates a difficult turn in his racing video game. The phone buzzes angrily on the coffee table.

With a sigh, you reach for it. The caller ID says “Bane of My Existence.” You frown. That’s the third call from her this week that he’s ignored.

“Kimi ...”

“Hmm?” He pauses the game and glances at you, eyebrows raised.

You hold up the phone. “It’s your PR officer again. Don’t you think you should answer and see what she wants?”

His expression clouds over. “No. Told her not to call me anymore.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” You keep your tone light and curious.

He shrugs. “Kept trying to get me to do stuff. Go to parties and all that.”

You bite back a smile, warmth flooding your chest. Your shy homebody of a husband, sought after on the celebrity circuit but wanting none of it.

“Well, I’m glad she hasn’t lured you away yet,” you tease gently.

The corners of his mouth quirk up as he takes the phone from you and sets it aside before pulling you into his lap.

“Don’t worry,” he rumbles, nudging your nose with his. “You’re the only party I need.”

You kiss him softly, heart overflowing. The glitz and glam means nothing to your Kimi. Home is where his heart is.

***

You awake to whispered voices and the smell of something burning. Bleary-eyed, you shuffle to the kitchen doorway.

Kimi stands at the stove, hair endearingly mussed from sleep. He’s scowling down at a frying pan, clutching a spatula like a weapon. Your brother leans against the counter, trying and failing to stifle laughter.

“What’s going on?” You ask through a yawn.

Kimi’s scowl deepens. “Trying to make you breakfast. Not going well.” He prods the blackened lump in the pan disdainfully.

Your brother snorts. “He nearly set off the fire alarm. I got here just in time.”

“I told you I don’t cook,” Kimi mutters, avoiding your gaze.

You pad over and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. “It’s the thought that counts. Thank you, love.”

He relaxes back into your embrace. Your brother mimes gagging behind his back. You stick out your tongue at him.

“Here, I’ll show you,” you say, gently prying the spatula from Kimi’s hand. “Just go slow ...”

Soon, the three of you are gathered around the table, eating the pancakes you made together. Kimi’s are a bit misshapen, but edible.

He looks inordinately pleased as you sample his. “Good?”

You beam at him and squeeze his hand. “The very best.”

His rare unguarded smile warms you more deeply than any breakfast ever could.

***

You awaken to the dipping of the mattress as Kimi slips under the covers. The red glow of his bedside clock reads 3:48 AM.

“Everything okay?” You murmur, rolling over to face him.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close against his chest. You feel the steady thump of his heart under your palm.

“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.” His voice rumbles low near your ear.

You nuzzle into him, breathing in the familiar scent of his skin. “Worrying about the race this weekend?”

He exhales, his breath stirring your hair. “No. Just thinking.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, you lift your head to study his face in the dimness. His eyes shine in the faint light, gazing at you with an intensity that makes your own heart skip.

“What is it?” You whisper.

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his callused fingers infinitely tender. “Sometimes I still can’t believe you’re here. That you’re mine.”

Emotion swells in your chest, words escaping you. You cup his stubbled face and guide his lips down to yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

When you finally draw apart, he pulls you close again, tucking your head under his chin. No more words are needed. You understand each other perfectly in the quiet spaces between heartbeats. Soon his breathing evens out in sleep, and you follow him down, still nestled safe in the circle of his arms.

***

You’re just drizzling the last of the chocolate over the molten lava cakes when you hear Kimi’s keys in the front door. A smile spreads across your face. Perfect timing.

He wanders in a few moments later, hair adorably rumpled, eyes lighting up when he sees you.

“Mmm, something smells good,” he says, crossing the kitchen to wrap you in a hug.

You kiss his scratchy cheek. “Made your favorite for dessert. Now go get cleaned up while I finish.”

He squeezes you tighter, stubble tickling your neck as he nuzzles into it. “Can’t I have you for dessert instead?”

You swat his shoulder playfully. “Go on, you. Plenty of time for that later.”

He steals one more kiss before sauntering off, a grin playing about his lips. You shake your head, unable to stop smiling. After all these years, he still makes your heart race as if you’re teenagers again.

When he returns, you’ve set out the seared salmon, roasted vegetables, and the two perfect chocolate lava cakes. His eyes light up.

“Have I told you lately that you’re the best wife ever?” He asks, pulling out your chair.

“Hmm, I think you could stand to mention it more,” you tease.

He takes your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes pierce yours. “You’re the best wife ever,” he says solemnly.

You lean in and kiss him, happiness bubbling up inside you. However many times he says it, you’ll never get tired of hearing it.

***

“So, what’s it like being married to the grumpiest driver on the grid?” The reporter shoves a microphone in your face, invasive and smug.

You recoil, blindsided. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, he’s not exactly Mr. Personality.” The reporter leans closer. “Does the Iceman thaw out at home or just freeze you out?”

Humiliation burns through you. Before you can respond, Kimi is there, gently moving you aside. His eyes are blazing.

“Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that,” he growls at the reporter. “You know nothing about our life.”

The reporter withers under Kimi’s icy glare. You feel a rush of gratitude for your protective husband.

Kimi turns to you, face softening. “Let’s get out of here.”

Once you’re alone, he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Sorry you had to deal with that. He had no right to badger you about our marriage.”

You lean into him, safe in the circle of his arms. “It’s okay. You came to my rescue like a knight in shining racing gear.”

He snorts. “Hardly a knight. But for you, always.” He kisses you tenderly.

No matter what the media says, your life together is not theirs to define. Your love writes its own quiet story each day.

***

You awake in the dark to a loud crash from downstairs. Heart pounding, you shake Kimi’s shoulder.

“Kimi, wake up! I think someone’s broken in.”

He’s up in an instant, alert and poised to strike. You hear footsteps creeping up the stairs. Kimi pushes you behind him and grabs the baseball bat by the bed.

The footsteps reach the landing and a shadowy figure appears in the doorway. Kimi flicks on the light, bat raised menacingly. You both freeze.

It’s Sebastian Vettel, eyes wide, hands raised in surrender. “Whoa whoa, it’s just me!”

Kimi’s shoulders slump as he lowers the bat. “Seb? What the hell are you doing here?”

Seb runs a hand through his messy hair. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was in town and my rental car broke down outside. I was hoping I could crash here tonight.”

Kimi sighs, shaking his head. “You couldn’t call first?”

Seb grins sheepishly. “Forgot to charge my phone.”

You step out from behind Kimi, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, love. Let’s get some fresh sheets for the guest room.” You turn to Seb. “We’ll figure out your car in the morning.”

Seb’s shoulders sag in relief. “Thanks, I really owe you guys.”

As you make up the bed, you share an amused look with Kimi. Only Seb could turn up unannounced in the middle of the night and get away with it. But then again, that’s why you love him.

***

You’re waiting at the finish line, heart in your throat as the cars scream past for the final lap. Kimi is battling for a podium finish, but has fallen back after a poorly timed pit stop. He’s gaining ground fast, but is he out of time?

The crowd roars as the frontrunners cross the line. P2 … P3 … waiting for P4. Come on, Kimi.

Then you see it, the red and white Alfa Romeo flashing past the checkered flag, narrowly clinching third. You leap in the air, cheering loudly. Kimi did it!

You rush down towards the pits, arriving just as Kimi climbs from his car. His race suit is drenched, hair plastered to his forehead, but his eyes are bright. When he spots you, a grin breaks across his face.

You throw your arms around him, heedless of how sweaty he is. “You were amazing! I’m so proud of you.”

He lifts you off your feet in a bear hug, laughing breathlessly in your ear. The sound sends joy bursting through your veins.

As he sets you down, you cradle his stubbled face in your hands. “I love you,” you say fiercely.

His grin softens to something more tender. He tilts his forehead against yours, heedless of the crowds milling nearby.

“Love you too,” he murmurs.

The cameras flash around you, eager to capture this rare unguarded moment. But Kimi only has eyes for you. Third place has never felt so golden.

***

“Ugh, your wife is so annoyingly positive all the time. It’s nauseating,” the other driver’s girlfriend gripes to Kimi at a race afterparty.

You freeze mid-laugh, stung by her disdainful tone. Kimi’s eyes narrow dangerously.

“I would rather have a positive wife than a miserable cow like you,” he says coldly. “Come on, let’s go.”

He takes your arm and steers you firmly away. You blink back tears, embarrassed.

“Hey,” Kimi says softly, tilting your chin up. “Don’t listen to her. I love how positive you are. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad for spreading joy.”

You give a watery chuckle. “Really? You don’t find it annoying?”

“Are you kidding? Your light balances out my darkness perfectly.” He punctuates this with a swift kiss. “You keep me from being a constant grump.”

You laugh and swat his chest. “Impossible. No one can tame the Iceman’s grumpiness.”

He smiles tenderly and pulls you close. “You do. Don’t change for anyone else.”

***

You pace the bathroom floor, heart racing. The little white stick sits innocently on the counter, but its result will change everything. One blue line for negative, two for positive.

Three minutes have never felt so long.

When the timer finally beeps, you take a deep breath and turn it over with a shaky hand. Two blue lines stare back at you.

Positive.

Emotions swell within you — joy, nervousness, excitement. You and Kimi have been trying for a baby, but it still feels so surreal now that it’s actually happening.

You hear the front door open and Kimi call out your name. It’s time. Clutching the test behind your back, you go to him.

He must read something in your face, because his brows furrow in concern. “Everything okay?”

Your face splits into a teary grin. “Everything’s perfect.” You bring the test out from behind you and hold it up wordlessly.

Kimi’s eyes widen. For once, the unflappable Finn seems utterly flapped. “You … we ...” He stares at the two little lines, then back at you. “We’re having a baby?”

You nod, vision blurring with happy tears. With a joyful shout, Kimi sweeps you up in his arms and spins you around. His excitement is boyish and uncontained.

When he sets you down, he cradles your face in both hands. “I’m going to be a father,” he whispers in awe.

You put your hand over his, overjoyed tears spilling down your cheeks. “You’re going to be the best father.”

***

You fidget impatiently on the exam table, Kimi’s hand clutched in yours. After months of waiting, today is your first ultrasound. If all looks well, you’ll get to see your baby for the very first time.

“What’s taking so long?” You huff. Kimi smiles and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Relax, they’ll be here soon.” His calm steadies you, as it always does.

Finally the technician arrives and asks you to lift up your shirt. She squeezes cool gel over your swelling belly and begins moving the ultrasound wand through it.

The screen comes to life, showing grainy black and white images you can’t decipher. The technician frowns, adjusting some dials. Your heart leaps into your throat.

Sensing your distress, Kimi gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. Just be patient,” he murmurs.

After a few tense moments, the technician’s face clears. She turns the screen towards you with a smile. “There we are. There’s your baby.”

You gaze in wonder at the little shape filling the screen, tiny arms and legs visibly squirming. Your vision blurs with tears. That’s your child, your little miracle.

Beside you Kimi is utterly transfixed, eyes shining. “That’s our baby,” he whispers reverently.

He lifts your intertwined hands and presses his lips to your knuckles. “Thank you,” he says, voice husky with emotion. “For this gift.”

You have no words. You simply lean into him, his solid warmth anchoring you as joy washes over you both.

***

You stare glumly at your reflection in the mirror. At eight months pregnant, you feel like a beluga whale. Your ankles are swollen, your back aches constantly, and none of your clothes fit over your enormous bump anymore.

Voices sound from downstairs as Kimi arrives home. You feel tears prick your eyes. You don’t want him to see you like this, a beached whale in sweatpants.

Sniffling, you ease onto the bed and bury your face in a pillow. Kimi finds you there a few minutes later. The mattress dips as he sits down and rubs your back.

“What’s wrong, love?”

You shake your head, embarrassed. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Gently he turns you over, brushing the hair from your damp cheeks. “Talk to me,” he says softly.

A sob escapes you. “I’m hideous like this! I’ve gotten so huge. You must be disgusted looking at me.”

Kimi’s brow furrows. He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his earnest gaze. “Is that what you think? That I find you disgusting?”

Ashamed, you drop your eyes, fresh tears spilling over.

“Look at me,” he says gently. You do. His ice blue eyes pierce yours. “You’ve never been more beautiful to me than you are right now, carrying our child.”

He places a reverent hand on your belly. “You are giving us the most precious gift in the world. How could I not find you beautiful?”

His words pierce your heart. You cover his hand with yours. “I love you,” you whisper.

He gathers you close, dropping feather-light kisses over your face. “And I love you. Always.”

You cling to him, feeling foolish and so very loved.

***

A contraction rips through you, more intense than any before. You cry out, squeezing Kimi’s hand desperately.

“Breathe, love, breathe,” he coaches, face taut.

You gasp air into your lungs as the vice grip on your insides finally releases. Kimi dabs the sweat from your brow with a cool cloth.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “Our little one will be here soon.”

Even through the haze of pain, his voice anchors you. Your Kimi, always steady as a rock.

Too soon, another contraction wrings a ragged shout from you. Kimi never leaves your side, letting you nearly crush his hand as you ride out the agony.

“I can’t … I can’t do this ...” you sob.

Kimi presses his lips to your temple. “You can. You’re the strongest person I know. I’m right here with you.”

His faith buoys you, even as your body is wracked with wave after wave of excruciating spasms. Your world narrows to the circle of his arms.

Then finally, miraculously, comes the thin, piercing cry of your child. Your exhausted tears mingle with joyful laughter.

Kimi cuts the cord with shaky hands, eyes shining brighter than you’ve ever seen. When they lay the squalling, pink bundle on your chest, the universe crystallizes to this one perfect point.

Your family, whole at last.

***

You awake in the small hours before dawn, reaching across the cool sheets only to find Kimi’s side of the bed empty. Padding down the hallway on silent feet, you peer into the nursery.

Your breath catches in your throat. Kimi stands over the crib, your tiny daughter cradled against his chest. One large hand gently supports her downy head.

He’s speaking softly to her in Finnish, too low for you to understand. But the love shining through his voice brings tears to your eyes. Your tough, taciturn Finn transformed into a doting father.

As he lays her tenderly back in the crib, you hear him murmur in a whisper, “Don’t worry little one, your isä will always protect you. I promise you that.”

He tucks the blanket snugly around her and brushes a feather-light kiss over her forehead. The tenderness of it makes your heart ache.

You slip silently back to bed before he notices you, not wanting to intrude on this private moment between father and daughter. But the image stays seared in your mind.

When Kimi joins you a few minutes later, you turn and press your face into his chest so he won’t see your tears of joy. His arms come around you reflexively.

“You okay?” He rumbles.

You nod, a lump in your throat. Your family is so very blessed.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you push your daughter’s stroller through the chaotic maze of the paddock. She’s only six months old, wide-eyed at all the commotion.

Mechanics pause to coo over her, their grease-smudged fingers surprisingly gentle. PR people stop to fuss and take photos. Word has spread — the Iceman’s baby girl is here.

Kimi strides over, stooping to drop a kiss on your head and tickle his daughter’s tummy. His race suit is on, grey eyes intense and focused.

“Sure you don’t want me to take her while you concentrate?” You ask.

He shakes his head, a corner of his mouth quirked up. “I need to see my two favorite girls before I drive.”

Your heart melts. Kimi scoops her up, and she clutches at his nose and gurgles. Nearby, you hear shutters clicking madly. The Iceman undone by a baby — it’ll be all over the press tonight.

But Kimi only has eyes for his daughter, face soft in a way it never is before a race. With a deep breath, he cuddles her close and murmurs something in Finnish before handing her back to you.

You kiss his cheek. “Go show them how it’s done, Daddy.”

He winks and strides off towards the pit lane, determination in his stride. Your daughter waves a chubby fist as he disappears from view.

No matter how many races he wins, now his best trophy waits for him at the finish line. His family.

***

“Must be lonely married to a man called the Iceman,” the reporter says slyly. “He’s not known for being warm and affectionate.”

Anger flashes through you. How dare this stranger imply your marriage is lacking.

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” you reply sharply. “Kimi is very attentive and loving in private.”

The reporter raises her eyebrows. “But his public image ...”

You cut her off. “That’s all it is — an image. Kimi deserves more respect than tired old stereotypes.”

Your voice softens as you glance to where Kimi is chatting with fans, his body angled protectively towards you.

“There is no one kinder or more loyal than my husband. He cherishes our family greatly, he just doesn’t flaunt it to the world.”

The reporter looks taken aback by your fervent defense. You almost feel sorry for her. She’ll never truly know the man behind the Iceman legend. But you do and you won’t tolerate anyone maligning him.

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devildomwriter · 4 months ago

Text

They Discover You Doodling Them in Your Notebook | Brothers x Reader

2k+ words | no warnings | GN! Reader

Lucifer

You sketched in your notepad as you listened to the teacher drone on about a subject you had little interest in. Every once in a while you’d glance over at Lucifer and it didn’t go unnoticed. At first, he suspected you might be looking over to make sure he didn’t catch you doodling and slacking off again but he left it be for now as Mammon was the bigger issue to deal with in class.

The teacher glared at you from the blackboard and tossed a piece of chalk your way. As a demon Lucifer knew the throw would be too hard and quickly intercepted it, glaring at the teacher and tossing it back hard enough the chalkboard broke.

Everyone in the class was paying attention now and mumbling amongst themselves.

“Silence,” Lucifer shushed them.

“We aren’t the ones making a big scene,” Asmodeus complained but was silenced with a single look from his eldest brother.

You were blushing at the commotion you accidentally started and tried covering your notebook but Lucifer quickly confiscated it to see what had your devoted attention.

He was momentarily surprised before he smirked and handed the notebook back to you which you’d covered in sketches of him.

“This isn’t art class, ___, please pay attention,” he said but to his brothers and you it was obvious he was delighted by what he’d seen.

After RAD ended he called you into his office and requested you draw some more, that way he could ensure he was the only thing on your mind as you spent time together that evening.

Mammon

Mammon was filling you in on his latest get-rich-quick scheme and to pay attention you began to doodle absentmindedly. You found it easier to pay attention when you weren’t being forced to and he knew this so he wasn’t offended by your doodling.

“Right, so if we pretend it’s some kind of charity—“ you cut him off and brushed a piece of his hair behind his ear. He blushed and jumped back.

“Yo! W-what was that for, huh?”

You went back to doodling and he huffed and walked behind you to see what you were sketching but you quickly bent over the notebook to hide it from view.

“Hey, c’mon!” Mammon griped and tried reaching for the notebook but he couldn’t do so without prodding you in your chest and the touch sent his hand flying back in embarrassment.

“Shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to… seriously though what are you drawing?”

“Can you keep telling me the plan? I’ll show you after?” You encouraged so he puffed and gave in. He stood back in front of his projector and changed slides. He’s thoroughly prepared this scheme unlike some of his others. It was definitely illegal and Lucifer would stop him before he started but it was fun to listen to him so energetic and happy.

As promised when he finished, and he made sure to do so quickly, you showed him your notebook and he clutched it, blushing and looking away.

“D-damn, yer pretty good at this ___. Y’know I can model for you anytime right?”

“Would you consider nude modeling?”

“Would I—huh!?” He yelped but paused and hid most of his face with your notebook. “If-if it’s you…then yeah…I wouldn’t mind,” he stuttered and you smiled and nodded.

“Let’s get started right away!”

“Huh!?”

Leviathan

“LET’S GOOOOO” Leviathan cheered as he focused on his PC. He’d invited you to his room to cheer him on as he tried the newest level of his racing game.

He turned the steering wheel he’d hooked up frantically as the difficulty increased.

“Water,” he requested so you set your notebook aside and handed him his water, he sipped some through a straw before pulling back. “Thanks!”

You weren’t just a cheerleader, you made it your mission to make sure he stayed hydrated and didn’t get too lost in his game.

You didn’t find the game particularly interesting though so you began doodling him, anime-style, in your notebook.

He didn’t mind much, as long as you were there supporting him. He knew it wasn’t like he could have your attention 24/7 as much as he wanted it.

“Come on, almost there!” He muttered through grit teeth as he hyper-focused.

You drew his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel and made sure to capture the serious look in his eyes as he stared at the screen.

Leviathan quickly glanced at your notebook to see what you were drawing this time and the surprise sent him reeling so much so that he knocked his steering wheel off the desk and fell from his chair, immediately losing the game.

You jumped up in surprise and rushed over to help him up and comfort him but before you could he snatched up the notebook and you put together what’d happened.

“Oh—um!”

“Th-th-this is GREAT!” He cheered, his demon form popping out and his tail wagging in excitement as he hid his blushed face. “Y-you’re really drawing m-me? Are you sure you want to waste paper like that!?”

You shook your head and lightly slipped his cheeks as you cupped his face which startled him, “these are my most important pages in this notebook,” you said seriously and his blush turned into a deep red engulfing his body as he tried processing his happiness.

All he managed to stutter in response was “W-wow…”

Satan

You sat across from Satan on his couch as he read his latest book involving a detective and his cat sidekick.

Your heart fluttered whenever you saw the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. Occasionally he’d prod your knee to make sure he had your attention and read aloud a passage to you he thought was cute or funny and you’d giggle in response whether you felt the same or not.

You continued to doodle in your notebook, trying to quickly capture the smiles across from you. His face was so expressive as he read and he’d know if you pulled out your D.D.D. so the best you could do was quickly sketch it down and occasionally a doodle cat sitting on his head. You thought he’d appreciate it whether he saw the notebook or not.

You nudged Satan and motioned to your cup so he knew you’d be right back.

After you left he eyed your notebook and quickly flipped it open, tossing aside his book. He blushed and stared at the drawings. He was enamored with the cartoon cats but for once the cats weren’t the most important part, it was the fact you drew him. He noticed the pencil lines indicated you were sketching quickly, and they appeared darker around his mouth. He realized you were trying to capture his smiles and he made his heart flutter.

You nearly dropped your water in surprise when you found him flipping through your art. He was so entranced he didn’t even notice you walk in. Now you finally had a chance and before he could react you quickly pulled out your D.D.D. and snapped a picture.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus had insisted you keep him company that morning as his makeup was going to take longer than usual and he’d be bored. As the nice person you occasionally were, you got up early, and in an effort to keep yourself awake, you doodled in your RAD notebook but quickly ran out of ideas.

As you listened to Asmodeus explain his routine in detail and why it helped accentuate the beauty that was already there, you decided he’d be the perfect model and began sketching him.

You made attempt after attempt but true to his word it was nearly impossible to cloture his beauty so you decided a more cartoonish manner would be fitting so you weren’t pressuring yourself for detailed perfection.

At some point through the routine, Asmodeus noticed you weren’t paying attention to him and stuck out his lower lip in a pout. You didn’t notice until you glanced back up to continue your sketch.

“Oops, sorry Asmo. I’m paying attention, I promise.”

“Really hon? Because it doesn’t look like it? How can you possibly nit be enamored by me right now? I’m so beautiful what could possibly have your attention? Hm?”

You blushed but decided to prove yourself and handed him the notebook. His eyes lit up, practically sparkling.

“Oh myyyyyy!”

He gave you a soy grin after flipping through more and you had a feeling you knew what he’d ask. “Forget the makeup! Let me model for you! I want you to draw me au natural!”

Beelzebub

You sat on the bench in the RAD Fangol field as Beelzebub practiced with his rowdier teammates. Occasionally you’d look up to see he’d accidentally sent someone flying. He looked so guilty until they got up and reassured him they were fine.

Your D.D.D. battery was low and you didn’t want to seem entirely disinterested in the sport you didn’t understand well so you took out your notebook to try and take notes but they were cluttered and nonsensical so your mind wandered to doodling.

First, you doodled Beelzebub’s jersey number. Then stick figures of some of the poses he did. But eventually, you began trying harder to actually draw him. They weren’t professional by any means but you enjoyed trying to capture his overwhelming cheery presence.

You were so absorbed in your notebook that one of Beel’s teammates pointed out to him how studious you were and he knew that wasn’t the case so he jogged over to see what you were doing.

You noticed him when he was a few steps away and quickly shut your notebook and put it aside. You handed him his water bottle thinking it was what he wanted and bent over to get a towel for his sweat.

“___ what are you writing?” He asked you. You blushed and hid the notebook in your bag but upon seeing your flustered face, Beelzebub decided he had to know and reached for your notebook.

“Wait, it’s kinda embarrassing!” You protested but he took it out anyway as you didn’t feel like wrestling his sweaty arm away.

He found the page you were on and blushed, “o-oh,” he said silently as his eyes skimmed the page. His smile widened at all the doddoes and he thought the stick fugues were funny so handed it back to you.

“These are good! Let me show you some more cool moves you can draw,” he beamed and ran back out to the field to play.

Belphegor

Belphegor was drooling on his desk next to you and no one was waking him up because Beelzebub was eating and Lucifer was trying to get Asmo away from his mirror and Levi off the D.D.D. Meanwhile, the teacher tried hard to ignore it all and continue the lesson.

Poking Belphegor didn’t work and with no one to talk to you were bored and the arithmetic lesson tired you and made you feel like you really were in hell.

With nothing else to do and no worthwhile notes to take you started sketching the snoring demon beside you. Whenever he looked like his snore would be too loud, you covered his mouth to better hide him from Lucifer.

The bell rang but you stayed behind in class and promised to meet the brothers at the cafeteria in a minute. Knowing they’d be interested in sketches you lied and told them you were only taking math notes.

Many minutes passed and a somewhat realistic drawing of Belphegor filled the page of your notebook. You held it out to admire your work when it was taken by a half-awake Belphegor.

He looked at the page and smiled cheekily. “Wow, ___, that’s really good.” He complimented as he yawned and sat up.

“Where is everyone?” He looked around.

“The cafeteria.”

“Oh good, so it’s just us…how about you nap with me instead of sketching? I promise you can do that later at home.”

#obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me scenarios #obey me x reader #obey me drabble #obey me story #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor x reader

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connorsui · 13 days ago

Text

Everyone who knows Satoru can’t help but notice that his antics are as unpredictable as they are endearing. He’s charmingly irreverent, with an overconfidence that’s as endearing as it is exasperating. His brightest, widest grin often precedes some act of mischief, and you’ve long since accepted that your boyfriend is as much of a menace in private as he is in public.

Which is why, as you’re chatting with your friend on the phone one lazy afternoon, you’re not entirely surprised when Satoru’s antics find a way to sneak in. You’re mid-conversation, distractedly folding laundry while Satoru lounges nearby, scrolling through his phone. He’s stretched out on the couch, his white hair messy from the way he keeps running his fingers through it, looking every bit like the troublemaker he is.

“Yeah, so I told her I couldn’t make it,” you’re saying, balancing your phone between your shoulder and ear. “I had to stay home and make sure my husband.... didn’t accidentally burn the place down again.”

It’s an offhand comment, a little joke tossed into your conversation, but it’s enough to make Satoru freeze.

“Babe, what? Wait, I… what was that?” His voice is higher-pitched than usual, his scrolling forgotten as his blue eyes snap to you, wide and disbelieving.

You glance over at him, pretending you don’t notice the way his cheeks are rapidly turning a shade of pink that rivals the cherry blossoms in spring. “What was what?” you ask innocently, though the twitch at the corners of your mouth betrays you.

“No, no, no.” Satoru shakes his head, dropping his phone onto the couch and sitting up. “Husband? You just—what did you call me?”

You wave a hand at him dismissively, continuing your conversation with your friend. “Oh, don’t mind him. He’s just being dramatic.”

But Satoru is relentless. He crawls across the couch, his long fingers reaching for you with an intensity that makes your heart flutter. His body presses against yours as he pulls you closer, his lips planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “Y/N, babe, I’m not dramatic—wait, yes, I am, but that’s not the point! You called me your husband!”

You ignore him, your friend’s laughter on the other end of the line only fueling your own amusement. Satoru, however, is thoroughly flustered now. His cheeks are burning red, his eyes darting around as though searching for an anchor, something to steady his racing heart. His hands rest lightly on your waist, the warmth of his palms seeping into your skin.

“Y/N,” he tries again, his voice softer, more incredulous this time. “Did you mean that? Like, are you—oh my god, are you proposing to me right now? Wait, no, I was supposed to propose!”

That does it. You can’t suppress your laugh any longer, the sound spilling out of you as you glance at his adorably panicked expression. “Relax, Satoru. It was just a slip of the tongue.”

But he’s unconvinced. His hands cup your cheeks, his thumbs brushing lightly over your skin as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Don’t lie to me,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “You just called me your husband. Why?”

You shrug, fighting back another smile. “I don’t know, it just… felt natural, I guess.”

Satoru groans, flopping dramatically onto the couch with a hand over his chest like he’s just been struck by Cupid’s arrow. “You’re gonna be the death of me... how am I supposed to recover from this?!”

You roll your eyes, setting your phone aside as you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering longer than usual. “You’re such an idiot, Satoru.”

He doesn’t take that lightly. His hands shoot up to pull you down next to him, his lips meeting yours in a soft, needy kiss. It’s quick but full of the kind of urgency only Satoru can manage. He pulls back slightly, his face inches from yours as he grins. “And you love me for it, Mrs. Gojo.”

“Not yet,” you remind him, unable to hide the way your cheeks heat at his words.

Satoru’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Not yet,” he echoes, but there’s a tender gleam in his gaze. “But soon, yeah?”

It’s impossible to keep a straight face when he’s looking at you like that—so full of love, hope, and just the right amount of cheek. His hands slide from your waist to your back, pulling you flush against him. He leans in for another kiss, this one slower, deeper, as if he can’t help himself. His lips travel to your neck, placing gentle kisses along the curve, each one making your heart race faster.

“Oh, whatever will I do with you?” you murmur, and Satoru only beams, tugging you closer until you’re tangled together on the couch, his lips never far from yours.

“Marry me,” he says simply, his voice light and teasing but his eyes shining with sincerity.

“Maybe,” you reply, laughing as he buries his face in your neck, tickling you with the lightest touch of his breath.

“Not maybe!” he insists, his laughter mingling with yours. “...because soon you will be mine”

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osaemu · 1 year ago

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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance

contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !

author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎

satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.

that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.

gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!

gojoslittleslut: notice me pls

"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"

you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.

gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~

satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.

suguru-geto: he has a gf ...

gojoslittleslut: yeah

gojoslittleslut: me

you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend.

satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.

eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.

toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day

inumaki: we know gtfo

gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?

toji-fushiguro: bet

"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments.

satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).

your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"

satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.

he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.

satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"

"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.

"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 month ago

Text

Too Far ~ LMH

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Minho x reader

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

Minho was always the same with you—sharp words, quick jabs, endless teasing, it was just how your relationship had been for as long as you could remember. His playful insults had always been something you could brush off, masking your feelings behind a smile. After all, you were in love with him, and a small part of you liked the attention that would come from him, even if it came in the form of teasing.

But recently, things have changed...a lot. Life was heavier, the weight on your shoulders making it harder to pretend everything was fine and yet you hadn't voiced it to him. You thought maybe he'd sense that you weren't in the mood lately and he would stop but he did.

Minho’s teasing didn’t sting before, but now… now it felt like someone was squeezing a lemon on a wound that was already raw.

Today had been the final straw. You'd finally snapped and had enough of everything.

You sat with the group, the usual chatter filling the room. Minho, as always, was sitting across from you, smirking like he always did when he was about to say something. And he did, some offhanded comment about how you always seemed to be distracted lately, how you weren’t even able to keep up with the conversation anymore.

"Maybe you’re just not smart enough to follow along?" he joked, the words light in his tone but heavy in their impact. It hit deeper than it should have, but being teased for your brain was always something that you'd gotten in school and it made you feel...small. Useless and insignificant to him. That coupled with the stress from everything else, the sleepless nights, the anxiety you hadn’t shared with anyone—not even him—it all bubbled up inside you, and for the first time, you couldn’t laugh it off.

"Maybe you should just stop talking," you snapped, your voice much sharper than you intended. The room fell silent, everyone turning to look at you in surprise. Chan stared at you in shock, he'd always been there telling you to stand your ground against Minho but you'd never do it...until now. Minho blinked, taken aback, scoffing softly as he tried to play everything off as a casual joke.

"Woah, I was just kidding."

"Yeah, well, it’s not funny anymore," you muttered, standing up quickly. You shuffled your stuff around until you gathered it all up, you couldn’t stay there, not with everyone’s eyes on you and Minho’s confused expression making it worse. Without another word, you left the room, your heart pounding as you made your way outside.

You didn’t hear Minho calling your name as you left.

"What the fuck was that about?!" Minho snapped at the others who all looked at him with sheepish looks. It was clear to anyone with a working set of eyes that you weren't in the mood for his games.

"She's had enough, Minho. God, last week I found her crying in her apartment." Felix grumbled and the comment hit him harder than he thought it would have. The idea of you crying because of something he said made his stomach twist and turn.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Hyung...In all due respect, I thought you hated her," Felix mutters a little and it was then that Minho realised just how far he had taken things. That if his own friends couldn't tell where the lines blurred then there was no chance in hell you would have been able to either and he'd fucked up...big time.

"I'll call her...S-She'll answer. She always does." He mutters, dragging his phone out of his pocket and calling you. That was one thing he could always rely on, you always picked up the phone no matter the time, no matter what day you answered him.

Except, this time.

You didn't.

It had been three days since the incident, and you’d been avoiding everyone—especially him. He’d tried to call, text, and even show up at your place, but you didn’t want to talk. You'd sent back all of the presents he'd sent to you and when the florist stated they couldn't take the flowers you donated them to a hosptial and the nursing home down the street.

You couldn't deal with anyone or anything right now. Especially not to him, no one who spoke to him because you knew that they would try and talk to you about it and relax you. Right now, you needed space and time to sort through everything without the added weight of Minho’s teasing hanging over you.

But it didn’t stop the ache in your chest every single time you thought about him. The desperate urge to run back there and forgive him like you always did in the past but this time you wanted to stand your ground. You wanted him to realise that the weight of his words had an effect on you.

But despite everything, you missed him. His stupid jokes, the way he made everyone laugh, the way he made you feel noticed, even if it was in the most frustrating ways. The way he'd always see you even when you thought you were invisible to everyone else around you. But you couldn’t forget the hurt he'd put you through. While he might have made you feel visible he was blind to everything else, he didn’t realize you were struggling and he never saw beyond his teasing to see what you were going through.

Meanwhile, back at the dorms, Minho was losing it. He wasn’t used to this—used to you being upset with him. You were always there, always able to take his jokes, always smiling despite his teasing. But this time… this time he’d messed up. And he had no idea how to fix it. Everything he tried to do failed. The bears were returned to the store, the florist told him you'd donated the flowers and the takeout he sent to you was always given to the homeless. Nothing was working.

The guilt gnawed at him, he found himself unable to sleep or eat. The more time passed, the more he realized how blind to what he was doing to you. He missed you, more than he cared to admit, and with that realization came another...something he hadn’t fully accepted before.

"You're dumb," Felix told him as they sat across from each other in the living room. Minho had just finished confessing all of the conflicting feelings he was feeling,

"How am I dumb?!" he snapped angrily,

"You're in love with her, you dumb bitch." Felix laughed a little and Minho sat there. His mouth open as he tried to deny it but the more he thought about it...the more he realised Felix was right.

He cared about you. More than just as a friend. More than just someone he could joke around with. He was in love with you...head over heels in love and now, he might have lost you because of his own stupidity.

That same night Minho found you at the park, sitting in the same spot you always went to when you needed to clear your head. It was the same park he would go to with you sometimes, you'd taken him one night when he needed to clear his head and he'd followed you blindly.

You didn’t see him at first, too lost in your thoughts about him, but when you did, you immediately stood up, ready to leave.

"Wait, please," Minho’s voice stopped you in your tracks. He'd been tempted to reach his hand out and touch you but he stopped himself, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You turned to look at him, there was something different in his tone—something softer, almost desperate.

You hesitated but sat back down on the bench, your eyes on your hands as he slowly approached, stopping a few feet away, his hands shoved in his pockets like they always were when he was nervous.

"I messed up," he started, his voice quiet. You scoffed a little,

"Fucked up,"

"Yn," He chuckled softly, he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed your voice, even if it was just scolding him for something.

"I know I did. I didn’t realize… I didn’t know you were going through something." You looked away, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively.

"It’s not just about that, Minho. You always tease me, always make me feel… small. And I never said anything because I didn’t want to make it awkward. But I can’t take it anymore. Not right now." The rawness in your voice hit him hard, and his hands twitched at his sides, he wanted to reach out and comfort you but he forced himself to stay still. He’d never realized the extent of his teasing, how much it might have hurt you. He always thought it was just fun, that you were okay with it because you never said anything.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice cracking. He knew that there was no apology in the world that he could give that would have made all of this better but he wasn't going to stop until you forgave him.

"I should’ve seen it. I should’ve been paying more attention, instead of just thinking I could joke around all the time. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you." You stayed silent, your eyes fixed on the ground. Minho took a step closer, his heart pounding, there was no way he could lose, not like this. Not when he finally understood how much you meant to him.

"I miss you," he admitted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He'd been trying to think of what he was going to say to you but the words were lost on him, nothing felt as though it would be good enough to make up for what he'd done.

"I miss being around you, even if all I ever did was make dumb jokes. And… I’ve realized something else." You glanced up at him, and he took a deep breath.

"I’m in love with you...I don’t know when it happened, or how, but I know that’s what this is. And I’m sorry it took me hurting you to figure that out." Your breath hitched, eyes widening in surprise. You'd always dreamt of hearing this from him but this, of all the things you expected him to say, wasn’t one of them.

"I’ll do anything to make it right," Minho continued, his voice soft and sincere. "I don’t want to lose you. Not like this...Please,"

For a long moment, you just stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Part of you wanted to push him away, to hold onto the hurt and make him pay for hurting you. But the other part of you—the part that still loved him—could see how much he was trying. How much he meant what he was saying.

"I don’t know, Minho. I need time… to figure things out." He nodded, stepping back, respecting the boundaries that you were putting in place for him,

"I get it. Take all the time you need. Just… don’t shut me out forever, okay?" You gave him a small nod, and for the first time in days, a bit of the tension between you eased. It wasn’t fixed yet, but it was a good enough start for him.

After the first few weeks of your time in the park with him, you kept your distance, and Minho respected that, he didn't push you into anything you didn't want to do. There was no pressure, no sudden visits, just the space you asked for. But even though he gave you the time to think, Minho didn’t stop trying.

Day after day, there would be small signs that he hadn’t forgotten and was doing his best to grovel for you.

One day there was a bouquet of your favorite flowers at your doorstep. There was no note, but you knew it was from him, of course it was. It wasn’t grand like the last time. It was a simple bouquet and, just simple daisies, the ones you always loved but rarely treated yourself to.

The next day, there was a text from Minho.

I hope the flowers didn’t freak you out. Just wanted to remind you that I’m still here. I'll wait however long it takes.

You didn’t respond, but something about the gesture warmed your heart, even if you weren’t ready to fully forgive him yet.

He started showing up at your favourite café, but always at a distance. You’d walk in, spot him sitting at a table across the room, and feel the familiar flutter in your chest. He never approached you, only offering a nod or a small smile if you caught his eye. But he was there. Every day.

Eventually, you texted him.

You don’t have to do this, you know.

His reply was quick.

I know. But I want to. xx

The distance between you began to shrink day after day, week after week and you found yourself lingering at the café, sitting just a few tables away instead of on opposite sides. Neither of you said much, but the quiet presence was enough for now.

He didn’t push, and that’s what made it easier to start letting the walls down with him, slowly letting him into your life again. One day, you finally agreed to sit with him, both of you sipping your drinks in silence for a while before Minho spoke.

“I miss talking to you,” he admitted softly. “Even if it’s just a dumb joke here and there. I miss… us." You didn’t know how to respond, but something in your chest loosened. The pain was still there, but it was obvious to you that it was in fact, fading.

By the time a month had passed, things had started to feel… normal again between the two of you. Minho was still cautious, still careful with his words, but the tension that had once hung between you had started to dissipate. He’d stopped teasing altogether, focusing instead on real conversations—ones where he actually listened.

One afternoon, as you both sat on a bench in the park, you finally brought it up.

“I think I’m ready to forgive you,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. Minho froze, his gaze snapping to yours, the food he was holding nearly fell to the floor and his eyes widened a little.

“Are you sure?” You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"You gonna try and talk me out of it?" you teased but he quickly shook his head at you, stumbling and stuttering over his words before you touched his hand,

“I’m sure. It wasn’t easy, but I’ve seen how hard you’ve been trying. You didn’t have to, but you did.” He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and he smiled at you.

“I don’t want to mess this up again. I’ll do better, I promise.” For the first time in weeks, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

"I believe you.” You whispered and he squeezed your hand gently, his heart swelling with relief. He knew there was still work to be done, but for now, this was enough.

Months had passed since that quiet afternoon in the park, where you’d finally forgiven Minho. Things had slowly but surely returned to normal between you two—only, this time, it was better. The teasing that once felt like jabs had softened, and Minho had become more mindful, more attentive.

He still had his moments, of course. That mischievous gleam in his eye would never completely go away, and you wouldn’t want it to. But now, when he joked, it came from a place of warmth, of care. He no longer crossed lines, and when he did slip up, he was quick to apologize. It was a kind of growth you hadn’t expected, but one that made your bond even stronger.

Tonight was special. The two of you were walking through the streets, the cool breeze brushing against your skin as the city lights twinkled above. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a quiet evening after a long day, but there was a peace between you two now that hadn’t been there before.

As you walked side by side, Minho’s hand slipped into yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that had become second nature. Neither of you said anything for a while, just enjoying the calm of the night and the comfort of each other’s presence.

Eventually, Minho broke the silence, his voice soft but teasing in that familiar way.

“So… you think I’ve been good enough to deserve a reward yet?” You shot him a playful look. A reward? What did he think this was? You couldn't help but giggle a little at him,

“A reward? For what?” He grinned, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“For not being a complete idiot all the time.” You laughed, the sound light and easy, and it felt good. So good. It had been far too long since you'd been like this with him and he was lapping up every single minute of it.

“You’re still an idiot sometimes.” you teased,

“Yeah, but now I’m your idiot,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, making you roll your eyes in amusement.

“I guess that’s true,” you admitted, squeezing his hand, kissing his cheek softly,

“Lucky me.” The banter was light between you both and it was relaxing. You never felt stupid around him anymore, he never made you feel small. As you continued walking, Minho’s gaze softened, his usual teasing expression fading into something more sincere.

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I’m really glad you forgave me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you.” You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked.

“Lucky for us, we'll never have to find out.”

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