#he wouldn’t allow people to drag you down like this
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wingman paul- c.leclerc
summary: charles leclerc takes a liking to you at your brothers movie premiere... paul makes it happen!
pairing: charles leclerc x fem! mescal! reader
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Did you want to go to the Gladiator 2 premiere? No, not really. Was Paul forcing you to anyways? Yes, very much so.
Being his sister (and emotional support person), he always brought you on set, to premieres, and anywhere else. That was usually fine. The rest of his projects' premieres had either been in the Lighthouse (your favourite cinema in Dublin), or small enough that you wouldn’t get too overwhelmed. You were famous in your own right, following after your sister and writing music. You didn’t go on stage, but you’d garnered over 10 million listeners, and your album had just been nominated for a grammy, though you had no intention of going. It’s not that you were scared or shy, you were just entirely uninterested in going out in public as a ‘public figure’. It stressed you out, having people know who you are in such detail, so you just kept to yourself. You had no public social media accounts, you didn’t allow your label to post about you unless it was about the music, and you only let Paul or Nell drag you out in public for one of their events. You liked it that way, it was comfortable.
“I’m going to go say hi to some people, you just wait here, yeah?” Paul explained as you two entered the theatre. It was huge, and every celebrity or influencer in the world must’ve been there. You nodded as he walked off and allowed yourself to fade into the background, people-watching as time passed. You noticed the beautiful architecture of the building, the way the celebrities around you mingled, the way-
“Hello.”
You whipped your head around, startled, only to be met with a face you knew quite well. “Jesus, Charles, you scared me,” you chuckled. He blushed slightly as you turned around properly to greet him. “Hi.”
“How are you?” he asked, joining you in your secluded corner.
“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”
“I am very good,” he smiled, showing off his dimples. “I thought you didn’t like events.”
“I don’t, Paul just asked me to come,” you explained. “My mam would’ve killed me if I didn’t go, so here I am.”
He nodded, understanding. “I tried to find you online, but… you are not a fan of that either?”
You chuckled. “No, not really. Sorry.”
He shook his head. “No, it is ok. I just… wanted to talk more. You are very interesting to me,” he smiled.
“Well, thank you for the glowing review,” you chuckled. “Are you enjoying the evening so far?”
“I am enjoying it a lot more with you here,” he smiled. “But yes, I only watched the first one a few days ago and I thought it was very good, so I am excited to see how this one compares.”
“You’re sure a charmer,” you chuckled. “I hope you enjoy the film. Where are you sitting?”
“Beside Carlos?” he shrugged, an awkward smile on his face. “Carlos knows, but I don’t know where Carlos is.”
You laughed. “Are you always this disorganised?”
“Only when I’m nervous,” he winked at you and the lights started going down, you just offered him to sit next to you, hoping that Nell wouldn’t mind.
You two sat together, enjoying the movie as the night went on, and after you found yourselves at the bar, still chatting. He walked off to find Carlos at one point, looking back with a smile as he waved, promising to come back soon.
“When are you going to realise he’s trying to flirt with you?” Paul laughed. Your face was bright red and your jaw dropped.
You gently (roughly) hit his chest and scoffed. “Shut the fuck up. He is not.”
Paul laughed. “He’s totally into you! Come on, go out with him, please! I want free tickets to Grand Prixs!”
You rolled your eyes as he giggled, and then startled when you bumped straight back into Charles. “Fuck, sorry-” you started apologising but he just shook his head.
“All good,” he smiled.
Paul silently slipped away with a wink, and you were faced with Charles, once again.
“Hi,” you breathed out.
“Hi,” he chuckled, his dimples on full show. “He was right, you know.”
“About what?” you questioned.
“I am flirting with you-or, at least trying to,” he blushed slightly.
“Oh,” you nodded, unsure what to do in a situation where someone was as brazen and blunt. “Right.”
He laughed. “Can I take you out sometime?”
You stared at him, total deer in headlights, then nodded. “Yeah, yeah, sounds grand. Thank you.”
You internally smacked yourself in the face for that. But he just laughed, unfazed by your awkward demeanour.
“Great!” he smiled bashfully. “When are you free?”
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#f1 social media au#formula one#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula racing#ferrari#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x female oc#formula 1 imagines#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 one shot
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Flower Crowns
dean winchester x bimbo!reader
1.5k | fluff, fem pronouns
summary: dean had lived his life as self-reclusive and stoic as possible. who knew one girl in tiny skirts with glossed lips could make him completely whipped?
dean winchester grew up in an environment that most people would widen their eyes at. mouths agape in shock as dean and his brother recount all the times their dad treated them like soldiers instead of children.
that lifestyle is what made dean who he was today; and most people would find it encouraging that he and sam didn’t turn out like complete asshole’s.
unlike his younger brother, dean was always the troublemaker between the two. yeah, sam had a knack for defying john’s orders, but dean always found himself in forms of trouble that landed him in boy’s homes.
all he wanted was to appeal his father. be tough for sammy and protect the people who he cared about. all that squished together made him into the hard shell of a man he is today; and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
that’s what drew you into dean in the first place. he was so languid in his actions. already knowing the exact way to push people out of his life when they got too close. having the tough guy act down to the final line. but you saw beneath it. you saw the man who cared so deeply about the people he actually allowed himself to hold close, and that interested you even more.
dean first saw you when he was on a case down in your hometown. and instantly, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
bobby had directed sam and dean to one of his hunter friends who lived in town. telling the boys that if they ever needed help, this guy was the one to call.
that man ended up being your father, and dean was thoroughly surprised that someone like you grew up around a hunter.
you answered the door wearing a baby pink sundress, thigh high stockings pulled up as high as possible with black heels on your feet. when you turned around, dean noticed the delicate ribbon placed in your curled hair, and he suddenly had the urge to pull it loose and use it on you for something else completely.
the whole time dean was at your house, he found himself thinking those unsolicited thoughts. you reached into your purse to reapply your lip gloss, dean wondered how it would taste on his lips. you tossed your hair over your shoulder to get it out of your face, dean wondered what it would be like to grab it in his fist.
each time he found himself alone with you, he couldn’t help the easy flirtations that fell from his lips. you almost dragged him upstairs to your bedroom when he called you a ‘good girl’ for finding a key detail in the case.
when it was time for him and sam to leave, dean slipped his phone number in the back pocket of your jeans. he disguised the action in the hug he gave you. . . while also lightly grabbing your ass.
he was scared you would smack him across the face for that last part. but the light kiss on his cheek that left a glossy residue in it’s wake had him thinking differently.
after months of talking — and establishing some form of relationship after multiple phone calls, dean asked if you wanted to live with him and sam in their 1950’s bunker. normal people would be immediately turned off and say no, but you weren’t normal people. and by the next weekend, you had your room packed up and ready to move in with dean.
every day you lived with dean was bringing you two closer together. your aesthetics varied so greatly, yet that somehow made you two even more compatible.
dean found himself falling even more in love with you as time moved forward. the evening he knew he loved you was when he walked into the kitchen, watching you attempt to make an apple pie. you were dressed in the shortest skirt imaginable, and dean almost passed out when you bent over to put the pie in the oven and he got a nice view of your lace panties.
he had come up behind you, wrapping his arm around your middle and dragging you back into his chest. whispering a soft “what are you doing” in your ear, dean went on to carry you back to your shared room, eclipsing your body with his own as you laid underneath him on your bed. he had whispered a soft and sensual, “let me show you how much i love you, baby,” and the rest was a story that dean still smirked about when he thought of it.
today was different. the weather in kansas was gloomy, and dean found himself wanting to stay in bed all day and cuddle with his girl. though for some reason, he couldn’t find you anywhere in the bunker.
he looked everywhere. every room and any place that he could think of you being. dean started to worry when sam told him that he saw you go outside a couple of minutes ago. so with the clambering of his boots, synchronizing with the patter of rain falling behind the door, dean ventured out to find you.
to dean’s surprise, he found you rather quickly. though, it wasn’t the fact that you were scaling the side of the bunker that surprised him. it was the fact that you could incorporate pink into any outfit and any weather condition imaginable.
a soft pink rain coat was covering your white tank top and pleated black skirt. a pink and black striped umbrella was perched over your head, and dean noticed how it was meticulously covering the pink uggs you wore with your classic white, knee high socks.
dean wanted to coo at your hunched figure. you looked adorable as you grumbled in frustration at your umbrella, legs bent at the knees as you searched for something dean couldn’t quite see.
“what’cha doin’ sugar, it’s pouring out here.” his voice startled you, your head whipping around to notice dean standing by the railing at the entrance.
tightly clutched in your hand was different types of small flowers, seemingly growing around the bunkers edges. dean craned his head like a confused puppy as he noticed the assorted flowers in your palms.
huffing slightly, you stood to your full hight as dean stared on at you, a massive grin on his face as he watched you dust off your clothing. “i’m trying to collect flowers dean, what does it look like i’m doing?”
the man couldn’t help but laugh at your matter of fact attitude. you looked so adorable standing there, covered head to toe in pink as you clutched pretty flowers in one hand and a comically large umbrella in the other.
with a shake of his head, dean approached you and grabbed the umbrella out of your hand, holding it over the both of you as he placed his free palm on the small of your back, leading you inside. “yeah, i can see that sweets, but why?”
you held up the assortment of flowers to give dean a closer look, allowing him to notice all the pretty pink’s, white’s, and purple’s you had grabbed. “i want to make you and i matching flower crowns, that’s why.”
dean stopped in his tracks as the two of you made it to the railing over looking the war room. never in his life had someone catered something so sweet towards him. yes, flower crowns were something dean would definitely not gravitate towards, but it was going to be made by you, and there was nothing better than a gift from his sweet girl.
“you are one of a kind, you know that baby?” he had rested your umbrella by the door, moving so he could wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer to his body. with a soft smile on your face, you placed your arms around his shoulders, the flowers tickling the side of his neck as he rubbed your back up and down. “yeah, you’ve told me once or twice.”
the rest of your day was spent as dean had intended when he woke up; in his arms. you both laid on your bed, dean’s back against the head board as you rested in between his spread legs and against his back.
you concentrated on weaving the flowers stems together, not noticing dean’s eyes on you the entire time. his hands rested on the tops of your thighs, moving from there to your hips every once in a while as he silently watched you work.
he couldn’t help himself sometimes and he would lean down and place a kiss on either your cheek or the crown of your head. when you turned around, placing the finished product on his head; you rocking your own of the same colour’s, dean left a lingering kiss on your lips, mumbling who beautiful you looked in his relaxed state.
you were his flower. his beautiful peony that grew the love in his heart. as you rested against his back again, fingers fiddling with the the pretty pink ribbon you were attaching to the back of your crown, dean wondered if the flowers and ribbon were going to be how you decorated your wedding veil one day.
because dean knew one thing for certain; if he didn’t marry you, he would be the dumbest man alive.
#supernatural#dean winchester#imagine#sam winchester#supernatural x reader#fluff#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader
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As the new Commandant of Zaphias… would Flynn even be allowed to participate in the fights at Nordopolica? He didn’t see any reason why he wouldn’t. If anything, maybe it could even raise relations between the two continents. After all, it would be quite entertaining to see the Commandant of all people participating in the tournaments there. That was what the work side of his brain was saying, anyway.
In truth, Flynn loved the idea of getting to fight alongside Yuri again or even fight against Yuri again. Of course, the two of them could spar at any given moment if they so wished but Flynn couldn’t help but think back to the day that he and Yuri fought each other in the colosseum. There was something exhilarating about it that made Flynn want to experience it again.
“Nordopolica seems like a fun time. It’d be nice to visit it as just a visitor, as opposed to a knight on duty.” Flynn smiled quietly as he leaned back in the pillow beneath him. He was already feeling groggy as it was but he was sure the medicine would be trying to drag him to sleep before too long. “But yes, I’m excited to see what place comes to mind. I’m surprised you didn’t have a favorite place though… I know there were always places that I went to that were my favorite. Places that I would’ve liked to show you one day.”
Of course, any place that he would’ve liked to show Yuri, the other had already seen over the course of his journey. So, sadly, there would be no ‘showing Yuri something for the first time’ moments but Flynn could look at it in a positive light. If Yuri could think of any location that called to him specifically, they could experience their favorites together.
Or maybe that was just the fever talking.
Either way, he found himself excited for the future with his most special someone.
“But yes… first things first, let’s wait for things to calm down. Especially now, after everything that’s happened.” Flynn let out a yawn as he let his tired blue eyes dart over to meet Yuri’s. “I think I might rest for a while… What are you planning on doing now, Yuri? You can stay, if you want. Spirits know that you probably need the extra sleep too.”
"Mm-mm. Don't be sorry. You weren't doing anything wrong. I can't blame you for what wannabe assassins do." That said, he would like to do away with them permanently, but he wasn't sure Flynn would approve even that. Doing away with people trying to assassinate Flynn himself. That did... kind of concern and scare Yuri, all things considered, though. If those people somehow escaped after being jailed, wouldn't they go after him again?
Truth be told, Yuri would rather never have to think about or worry about it again. He had done away with Ragou for similar reasons. Not having been imprisoned at all no less, the guy was left to his own devices. To decide to kill under the radar again. When Yuri had found him at the bridge... he had also been plotting to get revenge on - and likely attempt to kill - Flynn. Cumore had been another one, gunning for Flynn.
Even if Flynn didn't like Yuri taking this sort of thing into his own hands... he was, at this point, truly getting tired of Flynn being in danger because of people like this. Genuinely, Flynn had done nothing wrong to anyone. All he did so far was try to aid the people who needed aid, and to make relations with the guilds better to avoid further war. To avoid more death. It wasn't like he was wiping out rich people's funds or something to truly make the wealthy despise him on a personal level.
Maybe this was because of the guilds, but... even then, Yuri couldn't wrap his head around someone wanting the empire and guilds to go to war. For their relationship to stay terrible. People who profited off death were bad enough, but... he couldn't imagine how someone would even want to. How would that make them go so far as to target an innocent young man. Flynn's calm demeanor might have been the only thing keeping Yuri from becoming enraged at the thought of it.
Hearing Flynn make a light joke did relieve him somewhat. Despite that he couldn't shake the annoyance and irritability at the whole situation happening at all, he truly didn't want to stress Flynn out about this situation, and that was doubly so with him in this condition. "To be honest... I'm not even sure I had a favorite place. Like, a number one favorite? I'd have to think on it. I did visit a lot of places. If you want, we could go to the Nordopolica coliseum as challengers. There's other stuff we could do, other places we could go... but that's the easiest one I can think of off the top of my head."
After all, Yuri didn't want to merely go where he wanted to be again. He wanted to give it thought, sure, for his own favorite place... but also for a place Flynn would be happy to see. He gave Flynn a small smile, a plan to think it over later when things settled down. "Well, I'll think of something. Something not Zopheir. We might not be able to do a whole vacation sort of thing in the super near future, but maybe once all this stuff going on now is settled... we could make plans to visit at least one place for a little while. We can do some actual long term planning for a real vacation after that."
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Ok here’s the promised Simi ficlet
You can actually read this as platonic and romantic so I hope you guys like it.
I greatly appreciate any feedback and maybe even some prompts or requests if y’all want me to write more specific ficlets.
Anyway here’s Kimi being a gentle sweetheart and wiping away our golden puppy’s tears
Please ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes or dm me if they are too annoying lmao
In 2010, Vettel’s rise was meteoric. His sheer talent and the prowess of the Red Bull Racing team created a formidable combination. The first championship was a dream come true. Yet, even then, whispers of criticism began to surface. Some questioned whether his success was due to the car rather than his skill. The phrase “a champion built by engineers” started making rounds in the press.
By 2011, the whispers had grown louder. Journalists began to dissect every aspect of Vettel’s driving. “Does Vettel really have the racing intelligence of a true champion?” one headline questioned. Every maneuver, every decision on the track was analyzed with a fine-tooth comb. If he won, it was expected. If he faltered, it was headline news.
The 2012 season was perhaps the most grueling. The competition was fiercer, and Vettel’s dominance was no longer a given. Media outlets latched onto any sign of vulnerability. “Is the pressure getting to Vettel?” they asked after a rare mistake at the Malaysian Grand Prix. The relentless questions about his mental fortitude began to chip away at his once unshakeable confidence.
By 2013, despite securing his fourth championship, Vettel was exhausted. The constant barrage from journalists was relentless. At every press conference, the questions were sharper, the critiques more pointed. “Does Vettel’s dominance signal a lack of real competition in F1?” and “Is Vettel ruining the sport’s unpredictability?” were common refrains. It wasn’t just about his driving anymore; it was about his very presence in the sport.
In private, the toll was evident. Vettel, once full of vigor and passion, found himself questioning his own abilities. The joy of racing was being overshadowed by the fear of making mistakes that would be ruthlessly dissected. His team noticed the change, often finding him deep in thought, a shadow of the exuberant driver they once knew.
One particularly grueling press conference after the 2013 Japanese Grand Prix became a turning point. Despite securing yet another victory, the press conference that followed was anything but celebratory.
The room was filled with journalists, eager to ask their questions. However, this time, the tone was more aggressive and personal. One after another, they peppered Sebastian with questions that implied his success was hollow. The atmosphere was charged with a palpable tension, and it wasn’t long before the questioning turned hostile.
“Sebastian, do you think your success is more about Adrian Newey’s car than your driving skills? Do you think you’ve had an unfair advantage with the car?” one reporter asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.
“How do you respond to claims that your championships are less valuable than those of past legends because you never had real competition?” another chimed in, eyes narrowing.
His voice, usually steady and confident, wavered. “I have always given my best, on and off the track,” he said, his frustration palpable. “I respect the history of this sport and the champions who came before me. If you think my achievements are less because of the car I drive, then you underestimate the effort it takes to win consistently. This isn’t just about me; it’s about the entire team. We work hard for every single victory.”
The questions were thinly veiled accusations, each one more cutting than the last.
Vettel’s usual composed demeanor began to crack
“Do you think your dominance is ruining the sport’s excitement?”
“Isn’t it true that without the best car, you wouldn’t even be a contender?”
The relentless barrage of accusations and doubts hammered at Vettel’s psyche. He tried to maintain his composure, but the weight of the criticism was overwhelming. His answers became shorter, his voice strained. The room seemed to close in on him, the once supportive walls now echoing with doubt and disdain.
Finally, a particularly harsh question broke him. “Sebastian, do you think you’ll ever be as respected as drivers like Schumacher or Senna, given that your success is seen as less earned?”
Vettel’s eyes glossed over with a mix of frustration and hurt. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the words caught in his throat. “I… I think that’s enough for today,” he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. “Excuse me.”
He stood up abruptly, leaving the room in a hushed silence. The journalists, momentarily stunned, watched as he walked out, his shoulders slumped under the weight of their words.
Sebastian sank onto a bench, his head in his hands. The tears came unbidden, hot and silent, as he fought to keep his sobs from escaping. The weight of the season, the constant scrutiny, and the relentless pressure finally broke through his defenses. He felt small, overwhelmed, and terribly alone.
“Seb?”
The voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but it cut through the fog of Sebastian’s misery. He looked up to see Kimi standing a few feet away, his expression as unreadable as ever. Kimi had always been an enigma, a man of few words, but there was something in his eyes now—a depth of understanding that Sebastian hadn’t expected.
“Are you okay?” Kimi’s voice was gentle, devoid of the usual sarcasm and aloofness.
Sebastian tried to muster a response, but the words caught in his throat. He shook his head, his shoulders trembling with the effort to hold back his tears. Kimi’s presence was both comforting and disconcerting; the Finnish driver had never been one for emotional displays, and Sebastian didn’t know what to expect.
Kimi took a step closer, then another, until he was standing right beside Sebastian. Without a word, he sat down on the bench, his arm reaching out to rest gently on Sebastian’s back. The gesture was simple, but it carried a world of meaning. It was an offer of solace, a reminder that he wasn’t alone in this moment of vulnerability.
After a moment of silence Sebastian lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with unshed tears. “I can’t do this anymore, Kimi. They keep tearing me down. No matter what I do, it’s never enough.”
Kimi pulled him into a hug, strong and reassuring. “Listen to me, Seb. You are an incredible driver. You’ve proven it time and again. The media… they don’t understand. They don’t see the hard work, the dedication. They only see the results, and they twist them to fit their narrative.”
Sebastian shuddered, hot tears slowly rolling down his cheeks and Kimi leaned back just enough to be able to look into Seb’s glassy eyes and wipe away the tears while he spoke, his voice a soothing murmur in the quiet room.
“You’ve achieved so much. Four World Championships, countless won races. Don’t let them take that away from you. Remember why you started racing. The love for the sport, the thrill of the race. That’s what matters.”
As Kimi held him, he reached up to stroke a stray curl out of Sebastian’s face, the gesture so gentle and innocent that it broke through Sebastian’s defenses. A sob escaped his lips, and he buried his face in Kimi’s chest, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. Kimi continued to whisper soothing words, his hands stroking Sebastian’s back in a steady, comforting rhythm.
The room was quiet, save for the sound of Sebastian’s muffled sobs and Kimi’s calming whispers. Sebastian clung to Kimi, drawing strength from the Fins unwavering support. He felt the knots of tension slowly begin to unwind, replaced by a sense of warmth and security.
“You are a champion, Seb, my champion” Kimi continued, his voice steady and reassuring. “Don’t let their words define you. You define yourself by your actions, by your passion.”
Sebastian nodded against Kimi’s chest, the tears still flowing but the anguish beginning to ebb.
For a long time, they sat there in silence, the noise of the outside world fading into the background. Kimi’s arms remained a steady anchor, his silent support speaking volumes. When Sebastian finally lifted his head, he saw a small, understanding smile on Kimi’s face.
“Thank you, Kimi,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Kimi’s embrace tightening around Sebastian. “You don’t have to do anything without me. We’re in this together. And no matter what happens, I’ll always have your back.”
#formula 1#kimi raikkonen#kimi räikkönen#sebastian vettel#simi#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 fic#hurt/comfort#Seb is crying#Kimi saying more than three words#shocker#might not be like Kimi at all but I imagine he’s like that to people he’s really close with#he wouldn’t allow people to drag you down like this
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TRAP
// park sunghoon //
pairing: player!sunghoon x quiet!femreader
word count- 3.6k
genre/cws- fluff, slight angst, falling in love, confessions, he fell first and harder, sunghoon grows a soft spot for reader, sunghoon becomes a changed man, reader is done with sunghoon
summary-Sunghoon didn’t realize he fell into his own trap until it was too late and he was falling in love
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Sunghoon and you were the picture perfect polar opposites. He had people lined up trying to fulfill their deep desire of even getting a sliver of a chance with him.
And he thrived in this. He knew the sheer power he held so he always used it to his advantage. Everyone knew Park Sunghoon’s name like a chant and you never understood why people would crumble to his feet.
He lived a world that you wished to never get involved with.
Yet what made your world slow down is hearing his name called alongside yours.
Before you could even register what was happening, you could hear the painful drag of the chair next to you as you slowly turn to be met with the one and only, Park Sunghoon.
The infamous smile plastered on his face as his body was faced towards you. He had this demeanor that you were undeniably drawn to but forced yourself out of that daze.
“Guess we’re partners” The moment he spoke, all eyes were on you
You awkwardly nodded your head as you tried to ignore the stares burning into your entire existence and focus in front of you.
You knew there were people that would kill to be in your spot, and truthfully speaking you had no problem switching.
When Sunghoon who was waiting for some type of reaction from you received nothing, he raised an eyebrow, confused but assumed you were simply trying to comprehend how he was in front of you.
“No need to freak out or anything, it’s really me-“ Before he could even finish he sentence you raised a hand to stop him
Normally, you wouldn’t waste time even speaking to people like Sunghoon. There was no point, neither ever crossed paths before nor have you even acknowledged each other’s existence.
But now you had to bear with him until the end of the project if you wanted a good grade.
When you gave no response after shutting Sunghoon up, he could feel the embarrassment rising which was rare (a big lie).
“I look forward to working with you. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you” He tried to catch your attention as you seemed to focus on the lesson rather than on him
He gave a slight frown but wiped it off before having a smirk plaster onto his face. He could feel the excitement coursing through his mind and he knew exactly what it meant.
When the lesson was done, he turned expecting to see you beside him but to his shock you were already out of the classroom. He grumbled and quickly went after you.
What you thought was finally peace and no lurking eyes on you turned to ruckus around you when Sunghoon suddenly appeared next to you.
His mouth whispered right into your ear and you immediately jerked yourself away in confusion. He gave a warm smile and grabbed your bag from you to hold it.
“You walk so fast, it was hard to catch up to you” He joked and the look you gave him must’ve shown your discomfort because he awkwardly cleared his throat
You tried to grab your bag from him but before you could reach it, he moved his body and you almost lost your balance.
He was quick to catch you to make sure you didn’t fall (you were never going to fall in the first place).
You stared at him as he gave another smile but you quickly pushed him away and grabbed your bag from him before huffing out a sigh and walking away.
Of course you knew who Park Sunghoon is, but that also meant you knew the reputation surrounding him. He had people lined up for him for a reason and you weren’t going to allow yourself to fall for his trap.
As you were walking you were going to pull out your phone from your bag, but the moment you did a piece of paper fell out as well.
You tilted your head confused before reaching to pick it up soon your mouth was agape when you saw the written phone number on it.
‘My number -p.sh’
Now you didn’t want to text Sunghoon, especially with the way that he had given his number. It felt like he was treating you as someone who simply wanted to get the attention of being involved with him.
You knew deep down that was far from the truth but you had to swallow your pride for a moment as you typed his number in for a contact.
Sunghoon was in bed, lazily resting an arm over his eyes as he could feel the drowsiness take over. But right when he was going to shut his eyes, his phone pinged from a notification.
Normally, he would ignore it and deal with it whenever he had the energy to but something in him told him to check it.
He groaned before grabbing his phone seeing just who decided to text him so late at night.
He saw an unsaved number but the message attached to it made him shoot up from his bed with a slight smirk forming on his face.
: Let’s meet tomorrow to start the project
“Over here!” Sunghoon waved once he saw you, the people passing gave a weird look to him before going their way
You observed how he never truly cared about the public’s opinion on him. He knew that there would be people that praise him and people that despise him, nothing you could do about it.
But now that you were assigned a project with him you knew from the very start what it came with. You didn’t enjoy being the center of attention and having him lingering around you was quite troublesome.
“How was your morning?” He asked sweetly but you believed you saw right through it and simply ignored his question
He was taken aback from the lack of response but he nodded his head, realizing that it would take a lot more for him to slither his way into your heart.
“Let’s head in shall we?” Sunghoon opened the door for you and with the faintest ‘thank you’, he was already grinning like an idiot
He was sure that you would get caught up by him soon or later, it was only a matter of strategic timing and planning to get the job done.
“So what’s your favorite movie?” Sunghoon tried to garner your attention but you didn’t give him any, he sighed heavily after being rejected for the twentieth time
He was growing tiresome trying to get your attention on something that wasn’t something for the project.
“Uhm so what’s your favorite-“
“I heard you the first time, I am just choosing to ignore you” You finally put your pen down before looking at him which caught him off guard
He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, not expecting that (or any) reaction. The two stared at each other for a moment and for the first time ever, Sunghoon was the one to shift his gaze away.
“Let’s continue working” You softly said before picking up your pen again but as he tried to recover from the lost of the staring contest he sighed heavily
“Why don’t we take a break for now, my hand hurts from all the writing” You glanced over to Sunghoon’s paper, only to see he had only written his name on it
You glared towards him and he gave a cheeky smile which he thought would make you smile at least but nothing. You kept your stoic expression, unamused by his attempt to make you smile (you found it humorous that he failed instead).
“Is this why you’re failing the class?” Sunghoon choked on air and coughed loudly hearing your response
“How do you know that?” Sunghoon loudly whispered as he looked around making sure no one heard your remark
“You always complain about your grade in class” You stated and he sighed before embarrassingly looking away but suddenly an idea popped in his head
“So you’re paying attention to me?” He raised an eyebrow to you teasingly
“It’s hard not to when you’re so loud about it” Sunghoon’s world alongside his ego shattered hearing your rebuttal to his attempt to tease you
This is not how he planned this day to go.
Sunghoon cleared his throat loudly before picking up his pen and taking glances at his laptop before writing on the piece of paper, wishing to simply disintegrate into the universe.
You noticed his reaction and you were glad he was working but you felt bad, you didn’t mean to come off as rude, it’s just what you observed from him.
You itched to apologize, your mouth opening every now and then but nothing came out. You sighed before continuing to write on your paper, an awkward silence resting over the two of you.
“I’ll walk you home” You didn’t expect for Sunghoon to offer this especially when the rest of the evening was pure silence between the two of you
You were going to deny Sunghoon’s offer but he was quick to gather your bag along with his.
Another thing that you observed about Sunghoon was that he was stubborn but troublesome for him you were also stubborn.
“It’s okay I can make it home by myself” You tried to grab your bag from him but he was already walking away with it
If this is what Sunghoon thought could win you over, he is mistaken. You sighed annoyed but decided to not put up a fight, you were tired and just wanted to get home as quickly as possible.
As you and Sunghoon were walking to your place he tried to make small talk with you. You wanted to walk in silence but he was determined to have a decent conversation with you.
The talks were brief but you realized that there a slight shift in Sunghoon’s demeanor. It was more relaxed and gentle and maybe even a little genuine. A side you’ve never seen before from him.
But you reminded yourself this could easily be one of his antics to have you wrapped in his fingers. But before you knew it, you were already at your front doorstep.
“Thank you for walking me home” Sunghoon easily waved it off as nothing
“Also I’m sorry if what I said earlier come off as rude, it wasn’t my intention”
“Goodnight” After you finally apologized, you entered your place and closed the door behind you before he could even respond
Sunghoon stood surprised for a moment before softly letting out a genuine chuckle.
You heard a ping from your phone and when you looked at it, you found yourself letting out the smallest smile ever.
Sunghoon: It’s okay you weren’t wrong. Goodnight to you as well
From when you stepped foot onto campus, all eyes were on you again. You tried to remind yourself that this was only temporarily and soon you could go back to your old lifestyle without Sunghoon in your life.
But that moment wasn’t now because you suddenly felt a poke to your head and when you turned, you were met with Sunghoon’s cheeky smile.
“Let’s walk together” He hummed, you sighed realizing that he really wasn’t going down without a fight so you weren’t going to put up one
You nodded your head as you waited for him to catch up to you. Sunghoon smiled realizing that you’re starting to warm up to him even if it is a tiny bit.
You: Where are you?
You: We said we were meeting today to finish
You sighed as time passed by and there was no sign of Sunghoon. You scoffed to yourself realizing he left you stranded.
What did you expect, he probably left all the work for you to ensure that he can pass. You scoffed as you placed your head into yours hands before groaning loudly.
Having to do the project by yourself wasn’t something foreign to you, but you were still annoyed.
You had to pick up on his slack. You weren’t going to allow someone like Sunghoon to taint your grade because of careless actions.
You were disappointed would be an understatement. You assumed the least he could do is give you a heads up if he isn’t able to make it, but it seemed you hoped too much for the impossible.
Hours passed by and you were still engrossed in the project trying to complete it, you could feel the pure exhaustion catching up but you needed to push through.
“Bye Sunghoon” The teasing tone had a faint smirk form on Sunghoon’s face whilst waving goodbye
He pulled out his phone and saw the time, 3 am, he sighed knowing he was going to get a good nights rest the moment he landed on his bed.
He placed his phone back into his pocket and right when he turned, there he saw you through a window.
You were yet to see him but he saw how you yawned and tiredly rested your head on your arm as a pillow and closed your eyes.
That’s when it finally clicked in Sunghoon’s mind. He was supposed to meet up with you today to finish the project. He cursed at himself before entering the place you were in.
He quickly made his way over to you but you were already fast asleep. He saw your laptop open with paper scattered around.
He got too distracted that he forgot he was meeting up with you today and he knew all efforts of trying to get you warming up to him now went out the window.
He wasn’t one to care about how people perceived him but you must’ve thought he’s even more of a jerk than what you already thought he was.
Sunghoon made sure to be quiet to not disturb your sleep as he carefully sat next to you before grabbing your laptop.
He scrolled and saw that you were practically almost done with the project. The guilt that rested in stomach grew even more and began to eat him up, you picked up his slack because of his ignorance.
Sunghoon knew you wouldn’t easily forgive him and he doesn’t blame you. But the least he could do is let you sleep while he takes care of the rest.
He carefully draped his jacket over you as he noticed you were directly under an air vent. He looked for a split second longer than what he wanted to, you looked so peaceful when sleeping.
He found a faint smile growing but stopped to bring himself back to focus on finishing the project.
He grabbed a spare sticky note and a few moments later placed it next to your mousepad, before starting to type into your laptop.
Your eyes fluttered opened as you could feel a bright light hitting your face. You used your hand to cover the sunlight but noticed a jacket draped over you and you froze.
You hazily looked around and you jumped when you noticed Sunghoon asleep next to you with your laptop in front of him. You quickly grabbed your laptop to see what he had done but to your surprise you saw the project was completely finished and revised.
You don’t know when you fell asleep, let alone when he even arrived so you were shocked to wake up next to him.
You were pleased that at least the project was done, however your gaze soon caught the sticky note stuck near your mousepad.
‘I know this is the weakest way to apologize, but I am really sorry for leaving you hanging.
Rest well, I’ll take care of everything else’
You shifted your gaze onto Sunghoon but what you didn’t expect was for him to be looking at you back. Normally you would’ve reverted your eyes away but you were in some trance, an extra flutter in your heart made you realize you were falling.
But you weren’t the only one. With the sunrise setting upon you and the look you were giving him, Sunghoon found himself in utter awe of you as his heart fluttered against his chest.
That was something new.
Now Sunghoonn was wide awake in bed with you haunting his mind, he doesn’t get it. The project was long done and no matter how much he tried to distract himself, he always found his mind drifting off to you.
He didn’t have a guilty conscience anymore, you made it very clear that you had forgiven him (after much apologies) so why could he only think about you.
You and him would even text quite often (he’s the one always texting first) but even still that wasn’t enough to quench his unexplainable desire.
He doesn’t know what was taking over him, it was like he’s flipped. He was leaving his old habits behind, deciding to hit the gym more often, barely going out the way he used to, he even started to pay attention in lessons and participate in activities.
And anytime he did anything, he felt an urge to text you and let you know what he has been up to. There were times where he did text you but then there were times when he held back.
Tonight was not one of those nights, he decided to give in to the burning desire that desperately needed to get extinguished.
Sunghoon: You awake?
He impatiently watched, hoping for your response and he immediately piked when his phone pinged.
You: Why?
Sunghoon found himself smiling dumbfounded at your message, in that moment his smile slightly faltered as the realization hit him like a bucket of cold water.
Now he finally realized what the desire that burns in him meant.
Now you didn’t expect to see Sunghoon at your front doorstep, especially to catch him mid pep talk. He froze when he heard your door open and the two stared at each other for a moment before he straightened out his posture.
He awkwardly coughed at the silence, all thoughts and rationality he prepared went out the window as he just stared at you with wide eyes.
“Uh what are you doing here?” You asked him and his mind immediately went on overdrive
He continued to stay silent and stare at you. You looked around for a moment before softly nodding your head.
“Do you want to-“ Before you could even finish, Sunghoon easily cut you off
“I like you” That was more straightforward than he intended to say but he’s never confessed before, he’s new to this
You stared at Sunghoon flustered with his sudden confession, does he actually like you or is he toying with your feelings until he gets bored and moves on.
“I know this is out of nowhere and you have every right to question my intentions” He was aware of the reputation he made for himself but he was really praying it doesn’t affect him now
“But I promise you wholeheartedly that I am genuine about my words and my feelings, I really do like you”
“I’m not sure when I started to like you, but you started to consume every crevice in my mind. Everything that I did, I wondered what you would say about it”
“It was actually driving me insane because I never and I mean it ever felt that way before and I can’t lie I was nervous at first”
“I thought you would’ve brush me off after the project, that’s why I kept texting you. Something in me needed to know if there could be a possible us”
“This burning desire wouldn’t let me go from its grasp and the only way I figured to subside it was to tell you how I truly felt” Sunghoon finished his small rant and let out a heavy pant before nervously looking to see your reaction
You stared at him wide eyed as you proceed the information. The pounding of your heart clearly indicated something and you knew that very well.
With each passing second of no response from you, the more it kills him slowly.
“You like me?” Your voice was soft and this melted right through Sunghoon, how he underestimated the hold you had on him
He softly nodded his head and your heart finally exploded. All the times when your fingers fidgeted over your keyboard wanting to text him and he somehow read your mind and texted you first.
But there was a thought lingering at the back of your head. What if he was just saying this to get you to fall into the trap you couldn’t escape from.
“How come you didn’t fall for someone else?” It was too late for your mind to register that you accidentally voiced out your thought
You stumbled over your words trying to take back what you said and Sunghoon found it amusing, he made his way over to you. The loopy smile he had as he brought his mouth to your ear, his breath feathered over your ear making your body shiver.
“Because I am too busy being yours” Sunghoon whispered and those words sent a shock throughout your whole body
“Is this you crawling to me Sunghoon?” You teased and he chuckled at you response but nodded his head before facing back to you
“If you allow me, I’ll crawl back to you as many times as I have to in order to prove my feelings to you”
“Never thought, I would be the one to hear those words from you”
“Special words for a special person” Your smile began to grow and you couldn’t hold it back any longer
Seeing your smile made Sunghoon weak in his knees that he knew he had to make you smile every single day. You had Park Sunghoon wrapped around your fingers and neither expected the tables to turn.
The trap that Sunghoon had intended to have you fall into now consumed him instead of you. But truthfully speaking, he didn’t mind it because deep down he unconsciously knew he was yours from the start.
“Will you allow me take you out on a date? Promise I’ll be there maybe even before you”
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen fic#enhypen writer#enhypen angst#enhypen oneshots#enhypen sunghoon#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon fic#park sunghoon#park sunghoon imagine#sunghoon fic
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drag me under
Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader
Run-through: After what has to be one of the most exhausting and exasperating meetings he’s ever had with the Bishop and Mother Superior, Father Charlie desperately needs a quick release. It was wrong, he knew and he’d repent for it later. Except, what he thought was going to stay as a secret between him and God ends up involving a third witness – you.
Themes: smut, explicit language, mentions of infidelity, degrading kink
Fuck. He was close.
He’d shut himself inside the confessional booth a few minutes ago because he absolutely needed to get his mind off certain things. Those meetings always left him feeling like a damned pressure cooker, and he always needed to let out some steam after.
All that arguing, and having to keep his cool and maintain composure when all he wanted to do was yell and tell them all that he was right and they were wrong. It had to be the generational gap, but sometimes he felt like he was being tortured with how much his mindset differed from those of his superiors. Why couldn’t they just let him do things his way?
But he pushed all that aside for a moment. Just a moment, that’s all he needed. Fist wrapped around his throbbing cock, his spit and precum giving him just the right amount of lubricant, his head thrown back against the thick wood as he worked his fist up and down his cock, as fast as he could.
He tried to keep his gasps and moans as quiet as possible. It was late in the afternoon, there wouldn’t be anyone around during this time, but just in case. A groan left his lips anyway, and he bit his lip immediately after.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…
He could hear how fast his fist moved, the friction was almost just as good as how he remembered sinking into a warm body felt like. Almost, not quite as exhilarating though.
Fuck!
A few more tugs, a couple more unrestrained moans later, and he came with a loud sigh. Spilling all over his hand, gasping for breath as he blinked a couple times, already feeling his thoughts flowing much easier. His all black suit, his collar around his neck didn’t feel as tight and constricting anymore.
He quickly cleaned himself up with a handkerchief he’d have to put in the trash later, he sighed one more time as he made sure to fix his clothes and was about to walk out of the booth when he heard a timid, soft, almost hesitant voice ask:
“Are you done, Father?”
He froze.
Shit.
He cleared his throat. It sounded like a young woman on the other side. He tried to look but the screen only allowed him a partial view of your face. Okay, okay, don’t panic. He could still get out of this situation. Maybe you didn’t hear what he was doing. Maybe you’d just gotten in here. Maybe you were too naive to even know what those sounds were.
He cleared his throat again, “How, uh, how long have you been waiting for?” He tried his hardest to sound apologetic for making you wait.
A moment of silence. Then you replied, “Long enough.”
That voice. He knew that voice, didn’t he?
He said your name out loud. A pause then, “Is it you?” He asked.
A sigh. Then, “Yes, Father.”
Ah. He let out a quiet breath, relieved.
He had no reason to worry if it was you. You were what he called a lost little lamb, too innocent for her own good. He knew your family. They were nice people who frequented the church, and lately your parents had been worried about you since they found out that you had a troublesome boyfriend who was nowhere near the god-fearing type your family wanted you to date.
He also knew that you, unlike your parents, were not seen very often at church. He saw you here and there, sometimes at charity events, or sometimes at the tennis court with your mom. But never in the confessional booth.
Father Charlie sat up straight, looked ahead at the wooden door and asked, “This is your first confession?”
“Yes, Father.”
“And what would you like to confess?” He asked, knowing he was going about this all wrong. No signs of the cross, no ‘Bless me Father for I have sinned’, but he was impatient and… intrigued. What could a shy, timid girl like you have to confess?
“I… I slept with my boyfriend.”
He couldn’t help but turn towards the screen. He watched you as you fidgeted and squirmed. “Did you?” He didn’t recognise his own voice.
“Yes, Father.” You answered. “But that’s not all.”
“Oh?”
A trembled sigh left your lips, then you said, “While we were, um, when he was...” You struggled to speak.
And Father Charlie felt weirdly interested all of a sudden, so he urged, “It’s okay, you’re safe here.” He cooed gently, using the soothing voice he always used with everyone. “Use your big girl words, come on. When he was, what?”
“Father, I cannot say it.” Your words sounded heavy with shame.
So he urged you even further, “Like I said, you’re safe here. Now tell me. When he was, what? On top of you? Fucking you? What happened, did he hurt you?”
“No,” You said quickly. “No, he was… gentle.”
Father Charlie raised an eyebrow, “And?”
You let out a shaky breath and confessed, “I wanted him to…” You trailed off, “I know it’s wrong to want these kinds of things, but I didn’t want him to be gentle. I wanted him to be rough. To make it hurt.”
Another shaky breath left your lips, and this time Father Charlie felt like he was the tormented one. He frowned as he looked down and noticed that he was hard again. Shit.
He cleared his throat again. “I see.”
But you were quick to add, “It’s wrong, isn’t it? To want things like that? Isn’t it, Father?”
There was a strangely innocent desperation in your voice even as you referred to sinful things. The kind of innocence he wanted to take into his hands and crumble it into pieces but also preserve it at the same time.
Fuck, he was hard. And it was painful because you were right there.
“Depends,” He answered, “What other things do you find yourself wanting?” A small, quiet gasp left your mouth. Father Charlie caught himself smirking at the sound of it. “And don’t lie. I can’t help you if you lie.” He noticed movement on the other side of the screen. Maybe your hand touching your neck out of nervousness.
“I… I like being told what to do. I like authority. I like…,” You gasped, as if not believing you were actually saying all this out loud, “I like it, I mean I like the idea of men being mean to me, in bed. I want them to take what they want from me, with consent of course. But I don’t want them to be gentle about it.”
Oh fuck.
“That’s, uh…” He found himself at a loss for words. His cock was making his trousers tighter. His hands were shaking with the need to grab and feel a warm body. Preferably that of a shy young woman who thought she should be ashamed of her desires. “Yes, that’s not right.” He did his best to sound stern and disappointed.
A soft sound came from the other side. Sounding a lot like a sniffle. “I’m sorry, Father.” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. “I should go.”
It all happened too quickly. The sound of the door opening, the sound of you trying to rush and get out. Before he knew it, he was out of the booth as well and stopping you from leaving. Your wrist in his hand, his chest heaving, tears down your face, a shocked look in your eyes.
“Did I say you could leave?” He asked, looking down at you and noticing the way you didn’t even fight him. Aww, a lost little lamb indeed.
“No.” You whispered, going along with the movement as he walked you backwards until your back hit the nearest wall, beside the booth.
“You’re disobedient,” He noted, “I should punish you for that.”
“Yes,” You mumbled, like you were ready to be punished for your sins.
“Yes, what?” He chided.
“Yes, Father.”
And oh, how he would’ve loved to have you on your knees in front of him. To have his cock in your mouth. To make real tears stream down your face, ruining your makeup. But he didn't have too much time.
He stepped closer, trapping you between the wall and his hard body. He noted the way your eyes remained fixated on his white collar, those teary, innocent eyes. You didn’t even know the treasure you were.
“Look at me,” He ordered.
You did. Unable to look away once you did.
“You’ve been a bad girl, you know that, don’t you?” He asked. You nodded at him. “And I need to punish you, because I need to make sure you’re good from now on, don’t I?” You nodded at his words again. “Good,” He whispered, then grabbed both your hands and placed them on his shoulders as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours.
He fucking that little gasp of surprise that left your mouth as he kissed you, hot and messy. His hands reached down and bunched your dress up before he slipped his hand in between your legs.
He chuckled into the kiss when he felt your flimsy underwear. “See now, good girls don’t wear things like this. You understand?” He whispered, running his knuckles along your wet folds and smearing your arousal around through the thin fabric. “I’m gonna have to take it off, okay?”
You nodded again.
And he did, he slid your underwear down until it fell to your ankles. He watched as you stepped out of them and he immediately slid his knee in between your legs, followed by his hand again. “This is all part of your punishment,” He whispered into your ear, and watched how you shivered upon feeling his warm breath. He slipped his two fingers into you with ease and smirked against your skin as he felt your arousal coating his fingers, which he curled inside of you, hitting all the spots which made you gasp and moan.
You whimpered and closed your eyes, sighing and moaning when he leaned down and nibbled on your skin around your throat. He chuckled, sliding his fingers in and out of you, “See what a little slut you are? Cheating on your boyfriend, and letting me touch you however I please,” He scoffed, “Is this what you came to do? Was this your intention?”
You bucked your hips against his hand impatiently. “Please,” You murmured.
He pulled his fingers out, and messed with his belt, undoing it and the zipper on his trousers until he pulled his cock out. “Please what?” He asked, rubbing his wet fingers along his hard cock, “Huh? What do you want?”
You looked up at him, pleading with your eyes.
“Oh?” He taunted, “You want this cock? Huh?” He leaned in and grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks together, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke in a lowered voice that sent shivers down your back, “Does this little slut need a cock in her?”
“Yes,” You murmured, unable to take it anymore.
“Yes, what?” He growled.
“Yes, Father.” You quickly corrected yourself.
He smirked, smug. Then he lifted you up until you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your back against the wall, and the two of you partially hidden by the booth. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you moaned out loud.
“Shh,” He reminded you, “Quiet.”
“Please,” You whined, eyes shut. “Please, Father…”
“Shut up,” He hissed as he aligned his throbbing tip with your entrance. “Shut your needy little mouth up.”
You moaned as he pushed himself into you. Stretching you out as he went. His nails digging painfully into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours sliding into his hair as he filled you up nicely.
“So fucking wet for me…” He whispered against your cheek as he rocked in and out of you. “I bet you’re not this wet for your little boyfriend, huh? Does he feel this good? This big?” He chuckled. “Does he know you let random men fuck you?”
You were a mess, moaning and whimpering when he began moving in and out of you. His cock reached places that had you whining out loud.
“Shh,” He hissed again, “Shut up, you little slut. Shut the fuck up.” He groaned as he fucked you. He kept an eye on your surroundings, just in case someone wandered in.
But you kept moaning like crazy so he did the only thing his lust-filled brain could think of, he brought out his soiled handkerchief from earlier and shoved it in your mouth, and slapped his hand over your mouth. “Yeah, that’ll shut your filthy mouth up, huh? Is this what you wanted? Your boyfriend doesn’t fuck you like the needy little whore you are, does he?”
Your moans sounded muffled now, and he fucked you relentlessly, earning more and more muffled whines and moans and whimpers out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. He loved the way your eyes rolled back when he fucked you harder, reaching deeper.
He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust. “Filthy girl.” He sped up into you again, making you cry out. “So fucking desperate, aren’t you? You couldn’t help but spread your legs for me, huh? Even for a man of God? You couldn’t help it.” He taunted. “What else would you do for me? Would you come here everyday and let me have you? Hmm? Would you let me fuck your needy little pussy like your boyfriend can’t?”
He knew you couldn’t answer him, so he chuckled and continued as he felt your walls clench around his cock. Fuck, he had missed this. He’d missed making a beautiful girl lose control while he was inside her. He knew you couldn’t think right, he was so fucking deep inside you that all you could do was whine and cry, and let him take what he wanted from you. Which is exactly what he did. He didn’t stop. He kept fucking you harder and faster against the wall.
His hand left your mouth, making sure his handkerchief remained nice and snug in there, and reached down until he wrapped his fingers around your throat, he squeezed just enough to make your eyes widen. “Yes,” He goaded you, “You like that, don’t you? Your messed up little head likes this,” He taunted. “It’s filthy in there, isn’t it? You think about these things at night? When you touch yourself before going to bed? Is this what you’ll be thinking about from now on?”
Your body shuddered, trembling in pleasure. He looked down and noticed the slight cleavage of your sweet little dress. Fuck, he wished he had time to really peel it off your body and have you crawl around naked just so he could look at you. He was sure he could spend a lot of time just looking.
“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” He chuckled, his body moving expertly against yours, “No, how could he? He’s just a boy. He wouldn’t even know what to do with a dirty girl like you.” He leaned in, whispering against your wet cheek, “This is what you needed. I’m what you need.”
Your mind was a foggy mess already, and he could tell by the muffled by wanton moans that he could still hear that you were so, so close.
“I bet he doesn’t even come inside you, does he?” He scoffed, “I think he’d be too scared to do that.” He pulled away and looked into your eyes. “But you want me to come inside you, don’t you? Remember, it’s all part of your punishment. You wanna be a good girl and take all of it, don’t you?”
You nodded quickly, more tears streaming down your face.
“Go on then, you little slut. Come for me. Come all over this cock like the needy, desperate whore you are.” He let out a strained moan, “I said,” He spoke, menacingly, “Come for me!”
Your body tensed up, legs tightening around his waist, hands tugging at his hair, before you let go and came undone around his cock. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching his neck and a loud muffled moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard.
Father Charlie groaned as he came shortly after, spilling inside of you. And fuck, even he could feel how much he filled you up.
He pulled the now wet cloth out of your mouth as you both felt his warm cum dripping down your inner thighs. He replaced the handkerchief with his fingers, gliding two of them across your tongue, in and out of your lips as he said, “You’ll come back, won’t you?” He whispered against the corner of your mouth as you caught your breath while sucking on his fingers. “Now that you got a taste of what it’s like, you’ll be back as often as you can just to let me fuck you again. Won’t you, little lamb?”
—
a/n: call me sister megan bc i’m frothing–
#grotesquerie#father charlie mayhew#father charlie x reader#nicholas alexander chavez#charlie mayhew smut
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𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 | 𝐞.𝐦.
Pairing Eddie Munson x Fem Reader [friends -> lovers]
Summary: You and Eddie ditch the party of the semester to fall into something you both know is meant to be [fluff, 3k]
A/N This is just fun, fluff, and feels. Felt like a vibe while I was writing it. This fic is part 1 of 3.
The music vibrates through the floor so intensely that Eddie can feel it in his bones. Even in the sunroom where he and a few others have settled. The small space gives sight to the backyard, where people mingle as they smoke, illuminated by string lights combating the night’s darkness. Those inside the house with him chatter, sing, and toss their heads back in carefree laughter, feet shuffling against the hardwood as they dance.
The entire scene buzzes with the kind of life only Steve Harrington’s place could ignite on a Friday night. One of these days, he swore he was going to loosen up and allow himself to get swept up in it too.
For now, he watches. Eyes flitting to various faces, but always returning to you. If you weren’t smiling, you were talking, and the way your lips formed around your words was just as beautiful. The two of you spoke briefly when he first arrived, and he could still feel the delighted hug you’d given him over the fact that he decided to come. He wondered what he’d have to do to make it go away, but good thing he didn’t mind the feeling. It was a reminder of how much he wished your nearness could be all his forever.
Longing was a peculiar thing. Selfish in its occupation of his entire being.
As Eddie takes another small sip from his drink, something fruity spiked with vodka, The Hair himself saunters up in front of him in a pair of slacks and a Polo sweater. Though rather polished for the occasion, it manages to look fitting on him. His cheeks are a little flushed and the metalhead raises a curious brow as his friend stares down at him with a smirk.
Rebel Yell starts pulsing through the stereo as Steve offers him a hand off the couch. They end up weaving their way out back. The fall air is cool, but not all of summer’s warmth has vanished. A few people wave and greet them as they head towards a pair of chaise lounge chairs. Billy Idol’s voice is muffled as it continues thrumming from inside. Grooving bodies are visible through the windows as the party carries on.
Steve pulls out a fancy metal cigarette case before they sit, flipping it open with a soft click. Eddie can’t help but snort as he relaxes into the chair.
Steve’s brows furrow as he slips out a joint and begins lighting it. “What?”
Eddie nods to the case in Steve’s lap. “Rich people shit.”
Steve takes the first couple puffs before passing the joint to Eddie. “Jealous?”
A smile cracks Eddie's face before he takes a drag. The answer is no, he isn’t. Once upon a time, jealousy was all he burned with, even though he was Hawkin’s poster child for no fucks given and had every reason to be grateful he wasn’t worse off. Grateful for Wayne, that he wasn’t in the pen with his deadbeat father, for finally finding solid friends. He had more than he could ask for, and it took growing up to see it.
Eddie tips his head back and blows smoke up into the night before giving Steve his turn. What he can’t see is that your eyes have fallen on him from inside the house, sparkling and curious as Robin grins by your side.
“So did I save you back there or what?” Steve asks as he ashes the joint onto the ground. “Looked like you were zoning in and out, man.” There’s genuine curiosity in his gaze though his tone is playful.
Growing up with parents like his, Steve had gotten good at reading people. They vacationed a lot, but still managed to walk around with arc reactors in their chests whenever they were home. Bound to detonate in the wake of the most trivial inconveniences. Sometimes he wished he could shut everyone and their feelings out, but he wouldn’t quite be himself then.
Eddie runs his ringed fingers through his hair. “Just a bit overwhelmed.”
Steve takes a thoughtful look around. “These kinda things can be a lot.”
Not even half the faces outside belong to close friends. There was a magic to it, nevertheless. For a few hours, everyone could throw their worries to the wind as Hawkins, Indiana began to feel less like a nowhere town and more like the top of the world. Lord knows Steve didn’t mind the distraction.
“Not my scene,” Eddie settles on saying. The joint has found its way back into his hand.
“Everyone’s got their escape,” Steve says. “You’re just too evolved for this one.”
Eddie snorts. “Shut up.”
“Yet here you are in the flesh,” Steve continues, thinking as Eddie smokes. “You should tell her how you feel.”
Eddie coughs, lowering the joint from between his lips. “Dude. Fuck.”
Steve bites back a smirk as Eddie recovers, extending his hand for the joint. Eddie refuses, taking another drag out of spite, for himself or Steve he isn’t sure. A distant swell of giggles makes multiple heads turn towards the back door, where you and Robin file outside. There’s an immediate flutter in Eddie's gut as he takes you in, your skirt flowing at your thighs. It takes him a second to realize you two are headed their way.
By the time you make it over, Eddie has straightened up. Meanwhile Steve remains unphased. “Ladies,” Steve greets.
Robin wrinkles her glittery nose at him. “Why weren’t we invited out here?”
Chuckling, he makes room for her on his chair and she plops down beside him. “‘Cause you hate the way weed makes you feel like you’re going insane.” He leans into her with each word until she pushes him away with a helpless laugh.
“It’s the principle,” she counters.
Eddie motions for you to join him and you smile as you take a seat beside him, bumping your shoulder against his in a gentle hello. When he offers you the joint, you shake your head. Steve reaches for it yet again, but Eddie pretends not to notice, taking another drag. A small smile pulls at your lips.
“Actually, I think I will take a hit.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate passing it to you.
Rather than indulging, you hand it to Steve, who laughs in victory. Eddie shakes his head, feigning betrayal in a way that earns a laugh out of you. It’s a sweet, melodic sound. He tries to ignore the way your thigh feels pressed against his, but it’s in vain. Even the vanilla notes of your perfume manage to cloud his mind in the softest way. No matter where he was, if you were near, he would always be painfully aware of your presence.
It was your invitation that had driven him to this party in the first place. Although Steve’s invite came first, your insistence made him change his mind and say yes. Sweaty bodies and blaring music wasn’t your ideal scene either, but you gave in from time to time and looked good doing so. Earlier that night, Eddie almost hadn’t made it through Dancing In the Dark as you and Robin swayed and jumped around like you were alone in your room. There was something about the freeness of the way you moved that made it hard to look away.
“Munson’s been meaning to tell you something,” Steve announces, looking straight at you.
Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he glares at Steve. Robin glances between the two of them, brows furrowed as amusement plays on her lips. You hug your arms as a cool breeze rolls through, but you’re more interested in what Eddie has to say than escaping the chill. In meeting your gaze, however, he silently begs you not to entertain the claim. It only piques your curiosity all the more.
“Are you gonna spill or what?” Robin prompts.
“There’s nothing to spill,” Eddie insists, looking down to twist his skull ring.
Reaching over into his lap, you gingerly take his hand into yours to slip off that very ring. He doesn’t pull away or argue, just watches as a helplessly warm feeling melts down his ribcage. His lips twitch upwards when you put it on your thumb because it’s the only finger big enough. It’s warm from being against his own skin for so long. Robin and Steve share a brief, knowing look.
“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” There’s hope woven within the lilt of your voice. Eddie chuckles, and you commit the breathy sound to memory as if you’ll need it one day more than you do now.
Robin slaps her hands against her knees. “Well, it’s getting kinda chilly out here so I’m gonna head back inside,” she says, rubbing her arms as she stands.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tease.
“I’ll stick to something tame like snooping around in Harrington’s room,” she says as she turns to leave. Steve rolls his eyes.
A comfortable silence settles between the three of you. However, his brows eventually pinch together as he reconsiders Robin’s words. Taking one last drag, he passes the joint back to Eddie.
“She was joking, Steve,” you assure him, chuckling.
“No she wasn’t,” he worries as he stands to jog back into the house. Eddie snickers.
With a soft sigh, you lean back onto your hands, looking towards the sky as silence falls again. There are a few clouds visible in the light of the crescent moon, but the stars are everywhere. Like tiny shining freckles peppered against the face of the night. Part of you wonders if he’ll talk now.
“What if the stars have been watching us back our entire lives?” you murmur.
Eddie’s brows pinch together as he looks over at you, chest rattling with a startled laugh. “That’s something to think about.” His eyes are a bit glossier now. “Don’t think I’d mind if that were true.”
You tilt your head, a smile budding on your face. “You wouldn’t mind billions of little eyes observing your day-to-day life?” you ask. “That’s a pretty big audience.”
A grin eases across his face, half playful, half cocky. “I’m a pretty interesting guy.”
You lift a teasing shoulder, feigning indifference. “You’re alright.”
Eddie laughs, but a weighted look flickers in his eyes as he studies you, catching the fondness you hadn’t tried all that hard to hide. Even with the pleasant buzz beneath his skin and somewhat of a looser mind, he can see it clearly.
“Hey,” you speak up again. There’s a new softness to your voice, something mischievous dancing around the edges. “Wanna get outta here?”
Eddie blinks like he can’t quite believe you’ve asked, but finds himself saying yes anyways.
•••
Sitting in the passenger seat in his van, you realize you didn’t think much further than this. The air smells like him in all the best ways. Pinewood and faint cigarette smoke. As the engine rumbles to life, you shift in your seat and peek over at him, your confidence a distant memory. The radio bursts to life as well, but he quickly reaches out to turn it down. You bite back a smile at the fact that his skull ring is missing from his finger because it’s on yours. Eddie settles in with a sigh, turning to you.
“So,” he says, eyes sparkling and a little red under the glow of the street lights.
There’s an intensity to the warmth of his gaze. It drives you to hide your face in your hands. Which does nothing to make him disappear, if the way he exhales a chuckle is any indicator. “Stop looking at me, I didn’t think this far ahead.” There’s no real distress in your voice, only giddiness mixed with nerves.
“Now I feel like an idiot,” you whine.
“Well, you’re not.” He sounds more sincere than the moment calls for. “And I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop looking at you, so I guess we’re both in a pickle.”
“A pickle?” You snort, lowering your hands to meet his gaze. More laughter escapes you. Maybe it’s your body's way of not having to address the implication of his words.
There’s a flutter in his gut as he watches you. It’s like old times, back when you were freshmen who stayed up too late laughing over the most ridiculous things. Except now, you were more than the girl who sat beside him in Biology because you thought it was cool he had a tattoo. You’d grown into a friend, perhaps even more. As composure finds its way back to you, that truth weighs heavy in the small distance between you.
Eddie clears his throat. “We could hang at mine for a bit. Wayne’s at work.” When you don’t say anything, he bites the inside of his cheek. “It’s up to you.”
“Sorry, yeah, that sounds good,” you breathe.
Eddie gears the van into drive, only to put it back in park with a heavy exhale. You blink when angles himself to look at you, opening his mouth a few times before speaking.
“There is something I need to tell you,” he admits. “No way in hell did I ever think we’d be friends, but you’re the raddest person I’ve ever met.” A lump forms in your throat as his words wash over you. “And you’re so pretty that sometimes I wonder how every guy in the world isn’t giving you whatever you want all the time.”
You can hear your heart in your ears as you say, “Maybe that’s ‘cause there’s only one guy I want in the world.”
•••
A small sound of surprise rises up your throat when Eddie backs you against his bedroom door. His apology is hushed against your lips as he continues kissing you, hands gentle where they grip at your waist, feeling along your sides. You’re warm all over as if you’re laid out before the sun, arms hooked around his neck. It hadn’t occurred to him how much he wanted to kiss you until you looked at his alarm clock and realized that it’d probably be best if he drove you home. It was well past midnight. Time had escaped you as you talked and laughed.
When he does pull away, he studies your face like he’s looking for something. A few seconds pass, and he still doesn’t know what for. Perhaps your smile as it shyly appears. You move your hands to cup his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. You’ve never been close enough to notice he has the faintest freckles over the bridge of his nose. It almost feels like you’re getting a glimpse at sacred markings you’re not supposed to see.
Eddie remembers to breathe when you peck his lips again, running your fingers through his hair. His breath is startled out of him, more like. It’s a wonder his knees haven’t buckled beneath him. He wants to kiss you again to see if that’ll finally knock him back down to earth, but instead he exhales the softest sigh over your lips, squeezing your hips to confirm you’re real. He’s not expecting the sense of guilt that creeps up on him.
Your brows pinch together. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just… I haven’t taken you on a date or bought you flowers.” He swallows. “I swear you’re worth all that, swear I’m gonna.”
You gently scratch his scalp. “That’s nothing to worry yourself over.”
Eddie shakes his head. “Don’t want you to feel like I’m just trying to come onto you,” he says. “I like you a lot—”
“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever too.” Your voice sounds braver than you feel.
A smile breaks across his face as he rests his forehead against yours. “Well, that’s maddening news.”
Humming, you kiss him again, delicately running your tongue along his lips so he shivers. “Where are we gonna go?” you breathe, clarifying when he makes a soft, confused sound, “For our first date.” With the way you continue kissing him, he assumes you don’t really want an answer, that you’re trying to drive him crazy on purpose.
His mind changes when you gently push his chest so he knows to pull away. He listens immediately, eyes dazed.
“Maybe the arcade,” you supply, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Or a picnic by the lake.” Your hands slip under his shirt, gracing the skin of his lower stomach, your touch sending a rush of heat through him faster than any high ever could.
You’re not trying to be suggestive, it’s more exploratory. A shared thrill in finally being able to touch him how you’ve wanted for so long. Eddie’s hands remain at your waist, grounding him even as he feels his resolve starting to slip.
As much as he wants to indulge a step further, maybe even several, he holds himself back. It might be old-fashioned, but he wants to do this right, do a bit of course correction. He can almost hear Uncle Wayne’s voice from those lazy afternoons of his younger years, talking about life and how to treat a lady.
“Next Friday,” he says, staring into your eyes intently. “It’ll be nice. I’ll surprise you,” he promises, taking your hands in his, relishing their softness, their warmth. His skull ring is still on your thumb.
“Really?” Your smile is unabashed.
He nods, a grin creeping onto his face. “It’s a date.”
-
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monster
member — incubus!cheol x f reader genre — smut, supernatural (demon), pwp word count — 2.2k synopsis — who said you aren't allowed to fuck your sleep paralysis demon? warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, monster cock!cheol, mean dom!cheol, masturbation (reader), messy blowjob, rough throat fucking, throat bulge kink, choking/breathplay, dacryphilia, some degredation and praise, a little humiliation, throat training (kinda), cum in mouth, sooooo much cum, cheol is a demon both metaphorically and literally, cheol has a tail and uses it for kinky purposes, objectification (of reader), nicknames (darling, sweetheart, slut, good girl, toy, etc.), implied established relationship ? (this is not their first time together) notes — thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics @kwanisms for help brainstorming the demon part and @cheolism @onlymingyus @beomcoups for proofreading !! i really wanted to put out one more spooky fic before december hehe. if you enjoyed this fic, please remember to reblog!! it's super important for sharing my work and it lets me know this is something people wanna see more of :)
“darling, now what did i tell you about touching yourself without me?”
you startle at the sudden low voice whispering in your ear, and your cheeks grow hot as you sit up straighter on the bed. your skin prickles with the sudden feeling of being watched, tingling almost in excitement.
you already know who it is even before his figure fades into visibility. his face still obscured in shadow and your room is dark, illuminated by nothing but the faint gleam of the moon shining in through your window. even so, you know his piercing eyes can see through the dark when yours can't.
he looks different each time he arrives. sometimes it’s the long blond hair, slicked back with gel and a single strand falling across his forehead. sometimes it’s the black hair, shaved close on the sides with half of it tied back in a bun. but the red that he wears tonight has always been your favorite: a bright, unnaturally glowing shade that seems to match his fiery personality.
that’s how he appears to you now, dressed in his usual purple suit, the deep neckline showing off the muscles in his broad chest and his tail curled in a relaxed coil around his leg. a thick silver chain hangs around his neck and instinctively you shiver at the sight of it, the memory of it seared into your skin from all the times he's held you down rough and fast and let it drag across your back, just the way you like it.
“you were expecting me, weren’t you?” he murmurs. his voice is warm and deep like a pool of water, and each time you hear it, it only makes you want to jump deeper and deeper into him.
“m-maybe,” you manage breathlessly, though both of you know it’s so obviously a lie.
he laughs, but his tone isn’t humorous. you can practically see the smirk in his voice even without being able to see his face. “of course you were. or else you wouldn’t be sitting there, soaking through your panties and thinking about me like the depraved little slut you are. isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
the bedroom suddenly brightens with a warm orange glow, as if lit by a candle, except there's nothing there. cheol finally steps out of the shadows, allowing you to see all of him. the look on his face radiates condescension, yet it only makes the heat between your legs burn hotter.
you don't give him an answer to his question, and he doesn't pry for one. that's how this usually goes; you both know exactly what the other is here for anyway. once you're sure he's watching, you slowly pull your fingers from your cunt and keep your legs spread to reveal your glistening, sticky arousal that he loves so much, and that's enough of an answer to keep him satisfied for now. he doesn't react, but you can tell he's enjoying the sight from the way his eyes begin to glow a deep, hungry red.
you get up off the bed and start to move towards him, but he vanishes. a laugh sounds from behind you, and you whip around to see him sitting where you had been on the bed.
cheol spreads his thighs apart, leaning back against the headboard of your bed, and you take it as an invitation to move back towards him. you're already starting to feel the neediness returning, the empty feeling only heightened by his presence.
you try to sit down but his hand catches your arm, wrapped around your wrist to keep you at a distance.
“ah ah ah,” he scolds, holding back a laugh at your pout of confusion. “you already had your turn. if you behave for me, then i might consider giving you something in return.”
you nod quickly, and he smirks, directing you to kneel between his thighs instead. “mm… my good girl, always so eager.”
he leans closer to you and fists his hand through your hair, his fingers tangling in your hair to pull you up and force your head to be level with his. he whispers against your cheek and it raises goosebumps on your skin, his eyes dark and narrowed as he bares his teeth with a grin. “i think you might just be one of my favorites, you know? such a cute little thing you are.”
he lets go of your hair and you reposition yourself to lay as comfortably as you can, now face to face with his cock as he pushes away his pants. you may be one of his favorites, but he's also one of yours. the first time he appeared was the last time you slept with a human man, and as long as you have him you'll never want to again. there's no desire for the mediocre hookups of the past when you have the devil's right hand man using his hands on you. seungcheol fits in all the right places, in all the right ways, and each time with him is even more satisfying than the last.
you tentatively wrap your hand around the base of his cock, trying to guide him into your mouth. this part never gets easier on you, but it's well worth it for the pleasure he gives you in return.
“relax, sweetheart,” he coos as you slide your lips further down. “you're so tense. you want to take it all, don't you? breathe through your nose, you know the drill.”
to anyone else his words might sound kind, but you know the way he's teasing you is anything but kind. you whimper and try to follow his direction, forcing your jaw to go slack as you try to fit more down your throat. slowly but surely you manage to take him into your mouth, but your lips still only reach halfway down his length.
he pushes his hips up into your mouth once he's given you a moment to adjust, an experimental thrust to see if you're ready. you choke a little and let out a gagging sound, your eyes instantly starting to water as he hits the back of your throat. but you don't tell him to stop, and he doesn't stop.
you keep trying to relax your jaw, letting the length of his cock slide against your tongue with wet, messy noises.
cheol's tail wraps itself around your neck and you stifle a strangled gasp in surprise. his cock is so far down your throat it’s already almost hard to breathe, but the added pressure as he chokes you makes it even harder. you're lightheaded from the feeling but not enough to hurt, teetering on the line between pleasure and pain.
“you look absolutely pathetic, darling,” he says, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest. “so gorgeous.”
your arms are shaking from holding yourself up on your elbows, but his praise is what keeps you going, choking back a whimper as you take his cock further down your throat. your vision blurs around the edges, but you can feel the spit dribbling from your mouth as it runs down his length. he makes it impossible to focus on anything besides the bruising pace of his cock.
cheol coos in fake sympathy, his tail coiling just a little tighter around your neck. “aw, poor thing. is it too difficult for you, sweetheart? you're trying so hard to be good for me. just relax.”
at this angle he can't see it, but he can feel the way your throat bulges around his length. he can feel the ridges of your throat tightening around his cock with each labored breath you take, barely enough room to allow air into your lungs. if you were in a different position he'd be able to see the faint outline of his cock stretching your throat, expanding and contracting as you struggle to meet his thrusts.
“you're loving this, aren't you? i can tell. i can smell it.” he inhales deeply through his nostrils, as if to prove his point. “ahh. like cinnamon, and… peaches. i can practically taste you from here, my darling. so sweet…”
if your mouth weren't so full and you could speak properly right now, you'd probably be whining seungcheol's name and begging for more. no matter how many times he tells you to forget him, he always ends up back in your bed like this. maybe he really does have a favorite.
he groans and rolls his neck back, his skin flushed red as he looks down at you. fuck, what a sight: your pretty little ass up in the air and your lips stretched around him, looking up at him with pleading eyes filled with tears.
cheol lets out another laugh, his voice just a little strained as he teases you. “if you hadn't already soaked through your cute little panties before i got here, then i'd bet they definitely are by now.”
you choke a little around him, caught off guard by his words, but he's not wrong. you wiggle your hips involuntarily, trying your best to hold still but it's hard to stay focused. your head is fuzzy and your senses are overwhelmed, your throat burning with friction both inside and out.
your grip starts to loosen around the base of his cock but seungcheol just tsks and repeats your name, his tail squeezing once to get your attention. “use your hands, darling, you have them for a reason. now just stay still, relax for me.” he flashes you a grin. “don't want to hurt my favorite toy, of course.”
his thrusts into your mouth grow more hurried, shoving his cock down your throat faster and sloppier with each snap of his hips. the force of his movements is unnaturally strong, and although you know by now that he's right on the edge, he barely looks like he's breaking a sweat.
he finally releases with a deep groan, spilling down your throat and flooding your mouth. his thrusts don't stop, only slowing down a fraction as he tilts his head back, letting out another satisfied moan.
you know better than to stop without cheol's permission, so you hold your head in place and try to keep up with him. your eyes are brimming with tears as you struggle not to choke, and finally the hot, wet drops spill over and roll down your cheeks from the intense amount of energy it's taking to stay still.
all you can do is focus again on breathing through your nose and swallowing all of his cum that you can. unlike other men you've been with, you're not repulsed by the taste of him, and swallowing would be easy if there weren't so much of it. even when he should be finished he still keeps going, his tip pulsating against your tongue with each spurt.
just when you think you can't hold it any longer, the pressure on your neck suddenly releases and seungcheol uncurls his tail from around your neck. you pull your head away from his cock, gasping and stuttering, and you vaguely register cheol's fingers beneath your chin to support your head, your jaw aching from being held stretched open for so long.
“mm, there you go. deep breaths, now.”
seungcheol chuckles as if he’s pleased at the sight of you. his tail lifts to wipe the tears from your cheeks, then some of the drool and spit and cum from the corner of your mouth, and you exhale a shallow, shaky breath.
“are you done for tonight? or…” he hums once he's given you a moment to recover, but although his words are kind again, there's no sympathy in his tone. he caresses your cheek gently with his thumb, his crimson red eyes sparkling as he looks down at you.
“… you think you can take more?”
your eyes are heavy and lidded, feeling like all your energy has been zapped from you, but somehow you're still insatiable. there's an itch that you can never quite scratch, feelings that only seungcheol can make you feel, and the promise of that satisfaction is enough to keep you sated and happy for decades.
“more,” you stammer, still catching your breath, but your eyes are fixed on his. “p-please, i can take it.”
cheol's smile widens, revealing his gleaming white teeth, although he'd already known what your answer would be. “oh, i know you can. such an obedient thing you are, always so ready to please and be pleased. you want more, hm?”
you nods quickly as you can manage, your neck still aching a little. that's how he always leaves you: a ruined mess, exhausted and sore, yet you'd still jump on the chance for another round if he offered. and he always does.
before you can blink he flips you onto your back, disappearing almost like magic and reappearing at the end of the bed to kneel between your legs. his thick cock rests against your stomach, still just as hard as before, and the weight of him on top of you already has you shivering with excitement.
“you’ve been such a good girl for me, darling. i think you deserve a little reward for taking my cock so well.” he grins as he traces his fingers down your body, his hands finding your hips as his grip tightens. “you get to take it again.”
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Fighting words
summary: one of the bracken boys has been hitting on you for days now and youre sick of it. He happens to take it too far with you and your best friend shows you a side of himself you’ve never seen. and you like it. a lot.
Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Cerwyn!reader | 1.3k wrds
c.w: probably very occ as we dont know like anything abt him in the show 😭😭, slightly smutty, takes place before any battles, not proofread
he wouldn’t leave my mind, so take this 😁
masterlist - requests are open!!
tags: @hxtd
“No. Leave me alone bracken.” you try to shove him away from you but the bracken boy just grins at you and leans closer into you.
“Oh come on cerwyn, i see how you look at me~” a scoff escapes your lips as you stare at him with disgust. “In your fucking dreams, seriously. Leave me alone.”
You didn’t even know this guys name but he had been bothering you for the last couple days. It had started out small with him trying to invite you to come drink with him and his friends to him offering to carry around your stuff for you when you were walking around.
“theyre arrows bracken.”
“so what? must be heavy for you youre a girl.”
He grossed you out. But didn’t matter even if he didn’t,
“she said no.”
The two of you turn to look at the new voice and a smile creeps up on your face. The bracken boy rolls his eyes as he glares, “the hell do you want blackwood.”
“she said no. Back off.”
youve been friends with the lord of house blackwood for since you were younger and hes always been so kind to you. It seemed to be obvious to everyone other than him that you were madly in love with the young lord but if he did notice he said nothing about it.
You knew of his, angry? or maybe a better word is his more aggressive behavior. You had never even seen it first hand but multiple people have told you first hand accounts of him losing his temper and blowing up, his normal calm and kind demeanor getting lost to rage and blind madness.
You did not know what to think about the rumors then but seeing the way his eyes twitched and his clenched jaw as he stared at the bracken boy the rumors about him became more and more believable.
The bracken boy stands and gets all up in bens face, “What are you gonna do about it huh?”
Ben tilts his head and a look you’ve never seen crosses his eyes as he glares. “Get the fuck out of my sight.” His voice is hard like youve never heard before and it has you holding your breath, waiting for the straining thread to snap.
And the thread snaps the second bracken pushes bens chest and laughs. “what? you upset this ugly bitch wants me more than you-“ It happens before you know it and suddenly the two guys are on the floor and everyone in the room jumps up to look.
you freeze. What in the hells are you supposed to do? so you merely watch as the two boys beat the fuck out of each other. Ben pulls ahead at some point and manages to get a few more punches in after pinning the guy down until the two are pulled apart.
“never talk about her like that, no. never talk to her again or else ill fucking kill you.” He thrashes around in the arms of the two blackwood lads that hold him back as he continues to spit insults at the bracken boy as he gets dragged off and out of the space.
Your legs move before you can even think and your standing in front of him, he freezes and blinks at you rapidly. Hes covered in blood, you cant tell which is his and which is the other guys but he looks badly hurt.
He had done it for you. In your name. And you could barely take how hot you felt but he needed you. “i have supplies in my tent let me fix you up.” the boys oooo’d and ben barely acknowledges them as he nods and allows you to drag him off to your tent.
The boys call after you two with some unsavory choice words but you just turn and flip them off before you continue to help ben to your tent. You place him on your bed cot and try to ignore the racing of your heart as he stays quiet, merely looking at you.
Hes usually quiet but not around you. Its odd to see him like this. So you shakily rummage around with the stuff in your chest as you nervously begin to talk. “thank you for stepping in i was really nervous he wasn’t going to leave me alone, you didn’t meed to-“ you gasp as your spun around and lips lock onto yours with fever.
One of his hands reach behind you and push all your stuff off your table, lifting up you up to sit on it while he kisses you. You gasp against his lips and he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth.
Your head is spinning. You can taste the metallic taste of his blood seep into your mouth and it laces its way into your kiss. You fear you’re dreaming. You felt asleep on watch shift again and when you wake this will all just be a dream.
Yet when you grip your hand against his waist he pulls away and winces. You are pulled back to reality and try to pull away to grab your medical supplies that now are all spilled all over the floor but he quickly stops you.
“ben you’re hurt.” “i dont care.” He tries to kiss you again but you dodge it and grip his face in your hands. “ben,” His hand slide around your waist and play with the fabric of your tunic, testing the waters and sliding his hands lower and almost under the tunic you wear. “ben.” you say firmer and he pauses to look at you.
“right now i just need to feel your skin, please.” your heart pounds loudly against your chest and your mouth drops open. “ben,” his name shakily passes your lips and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “How dare he talk to you like that. i should have killed him,” his hands slide under your tunic his hot hands run up and down your bare sides slowly. “he should know i take no disrespect to the future lady of blackwood.”
You kiss him unable to take it anymore and he meets your fever eagerly. arms wrapping around you and pulling you so your chest to chest and you can feel him pressing against your trousers.
His lips trail down your jaw as his hands find your breasts and you let out a moan as he squeezes them in his hands. His lips your neck and he sucks at any skin he can get while he grinds his hips against yours. His hands grow more feverish as he uses his teeth to pull down your tunic to expose more of your collarbone and neck, youre sure to be covered in bruises tomorrow but you cant be bothered with that.
One of his hands trails down your stomach and almost gets to reach under your pants until a horn sounds outside and you both look at each other alarmed.
“ugh fuck me.” “wish i could.” you slap him on the chest as he pulls away and he hisses.
“that hurts.” “if you had let me patch you up it wouldn’t be hurting you idiot.” “you certain didn’t look like you were going to complain. not when i was about to-“ “okay! lets go they need us.” you ignore the sound of his laughter as you flap open your tent and rush out leaving him behind, hoping you look presentable enough your men dont ask questions and pray you can continue what you were doing with ben later.
#benjicot blackwood#bloody ben#ben blackwood x reader#benjicot blackwood x reader#bloody ben x reader#hotd x reader#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon#ben blackwood
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Bakugos first time getting head
AGED UP!! Katsuki bakugo x fem! Reader
warnings: smut,, jerking off, blowjob. Sort of a extension to hallway crush
AGED UP im talking like last year of UA 18 years old sort of aged up
A/N I realised people don’t really know me, so to make it easier my names angel and I go by she/her, I never really introduced myself, also this banner😍
sorry for disappearing I’m back now and I think the smut is kinda rushed sorry 😭😭😭
Katsuki never thought of loosing his virginity often, it never crossed his mind on a daily basis. He wasn’t like his idiot “friends” Denki, sero and kirishima who all had either lost their virginity or were planning on it, especially Denki when he would yap into katsukis ear about finding the perfect girl to plow into which often lead to bakugo getting up and leaving mid conversation.
but then there was you, you flicked a switch in his brain like no girl did before. Sure he had a huge crush on you like he’s never had a crush on a girl before, but he also had a lust for you. Katsuki would sit in class and stare at you from the corner of his eye while imagining bending you over his bed and stuffing you with his seed or thinking about dragging you to the bathrooms and fucking you in a stall ect, all thoughts lead to him asking aizawa to go to the bathroom because he’s got a massive boner he desperately wants to deal with.
And dealing with it would probably be the most pathetic (prettiest) thing ever. Katsuki would sit in the bathroom with his baggy pants and boxers pulled down and his hard sore cock up against the fabric of his shirt, poor boy would spit into his hand and stroke the length of it with a grumble and after a while he’d get desperate and just start fucking his fist, bucking his hips into his hand all while imagining it was you balls deep on his cock. You would be so pretty bouncing on his dick in the school toilets while he held your hips and buried his face in your tits with a grunt and if your lucky a whine.
but bakugo couldn’t just fuck you, not just randomly. You wouldn’t allow that, you have more pride than that.
So when you two started talking then started talking he was beyond happy, though he wouldn’t show it behind his usually stoic and aggressive personality.
One day you two were sitting together at the back of class, both of you bored out of your minds! Katsukis eyes wonder from the board to you.he admired how pretty you were from head to toe, his eyes lingered around your thighs… your soft pretty thighs… the blonde bit his lip before trying to distract himself.
not now not now not now.
The blonde looked back down at your thighs before looking up at your face, only to see you looking back at him “what are you looking at?” You giggled, teasing him a bit “hah? I can look at you if I wanna look at you” he grumbled and turned his attention back to the board “righttt…nice hard on by the way” you teased him again as you pulled at a lock of his ash blonde hair. Katsuki looked down to find himself beginning to get a boner “shit…” he whispered and raised his hand “oi can I go to the toilet?”
You watched katsuki get up and leave in a hurry, slamming the door shut behind him. You giggled with amusement, you’d never think you’d have that sort of reaction out of him, you two never did anything sexual as of right now, you didn’t think he had a interest in it. But from that moment you realised maybe he did and just didn’t wanna tell you. You gave it a couple minutes before raising your hand too
“Mr. Aizawa, can I go to the toilet? Lady problems,” you said with a grin, knowing full well he suspected what you were really up to. The exhausted man barely glanced up from his desk, his eyes half-lidded with fatigue. “I don’t care…” he muttered, waving you off dismissively.
You walked down the hallway, the silence broken only by the rhythmic clicking of your shoes against the polished floor. As you neared the boys' toilets, you paused and knocked lightly on the wall before calling out, “Katsuki? You in here?” . After a brief silence, you heard a response. “Y-yeah! I’m… ah- I’m okay. Piss off!” Katsuki shouted back, his voice strained, you could hear slight panting. “Am I interrupting something?” You cooed, trying to tease him “hmmph.., yes! Go away!” He again yelled out “oooookayyy…”
you stood by the door as if you knew what was gonna happen
“you still there?” He grumbled out to you “yep” you called back out “you were jerking off huh?” You giggled “shut the fuck up!” “It’s alright it’s normal!” he mumbled in response. After a while in silence you decided to tease him more “so did you cum?” “What the fuck?” You laughed in response, riskily walking into the boys bathroom. “Do you want some help..?” You asked him, the silence was loud.
and that’s how you found yourself on your knees infront of him in the stall while he pushed your head down on his dick “fuck.. that feels good…” he grumbled and pushed you felt the tip of his dick slide deeper down into your throat, you gagged a little due to his huge size. Bakugo felt a bit panicked as it was his first time even getting his first time getting head “shit too far? Am I hurting you?” He asked as he pulled your head off his cock with a loud pop “n-nope” you said as a bit of drool fell down your chin, a dopey grin on your face,
before you knew it katsuki was pushing your head down on his hard cock again “Mmmm.. good girl…” he pet your hair as he pulled at your hair to push you up and down on him. Just as kirishima said he should. The slow pleasure began to build up into frustration, bakugo held your head up as he began to fuck into your face
“A-ah fuck! Don’t get caught don’t get caught… mmmmph…. Such a good girl..”
all while you gagged as tears built up into your eyes, he was much bigger then you thought and you could barely breath with the cock in your mouth. katsuki pushed his whole shaft into your mouth and crossed the line, painting your throat white with his hot cum.
“fuuuuuuuuuuuuckkk”
you pulled his softened dick out your mouth with a pop, swallowing the semen left in your mouth. The blonde stared down at you with short breath, panting softly. “Thank you..I’ve never done that.. before..” “it’s alright baby.. first time for everything”
“shut up….”
HAS EVERYONE SEEN THE MHA ENDING? IM SO SAD. GIVE ME THE PEN IM RE WRITING THAT, I DONT WANT MHA TO END
#mha#bnha#my hero academia#katsuki bakugou#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#mha x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugo smut#bnha smut#mha smut#katsuki bakugo x reader smut#bakugo katsuki smut#bakugo katuski#kacchan
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𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 …
— [ nsfw ] : threesome, jealousy, smut, fingering, DP
— wc : 2.1k
the n109 zone often hosts these elaborate auction events and y/n is no stranger to it. ever since meeting sylus, she was invited to join him as his plus one on more than one occasion and she was quite used to the way the people acted.
they seemed to enjoy flaunting their wealth and flashing their very expensive watches as if she didn’t have the richest man standing by her side, a man they all feared and well, some admired and some … didn’t have such innocent intentions when thinking about him.
not that y/n cared all that much. she wouldn’t lie and go as far as to say she wasn’t jealous but she was reminded enough times just how loyal the other man was to her and besides, he wasn’t the only one who adored her so much.
taking a seat alone at the bar, she couldn’t help but grin as she called over the bartender. he was immediately interested, sending her flirtatious smiles and making sure to touch her hands on purpose every time he spoke.
“good evening”
“i hope we aren’t interrupting you”
taking a seat on either side of her, sylus glared at the bartender while rafayel leaned in to place a soft kiss on her exposed shoulder. she did look very beautiful this evening, dressed in a lovely dress gifted to her by the man himself.
who knew red and purple would go so well on her.
she was also wearing a very expensive piece of jewellery from sylus, a piece everyone in the n109 zone wanted to get their hands on but knew better than to approach her when she was occupied.
“now sweetie, did we leave you alone so you can get up to mischief?” sylus frowns, finally looking down at her. from his vantage point, she could look down the front of her dress and see her pretty lace bra. she really was a pretty little thing.
“am i not allowed to have a drink?” she asks innocently, “you both had business to attend to and i got lonely”
“you’d be a distraction” rafayel takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. sylus places a firm hand on her thigh, gripping just shy of painful. “we didn’t mean to leave you alone darling”
“i was entertained enough” she grins, leaning closer towards sylus when he leans over to take a sip of whatever she had ordered.
“would you like to join us next time?” sylus offers and he grins when her eyes light up. y/n didn’t like to be left out of the loop. she was a fighter and could handle anything.
she was certain her everyday job as a hunter was far more dangerous than dealing with a few idiots who loved to gamble and sylus did teach her everything she needed to know about poker.
he slides his hand further up her thigh and maintains eye contact as he taps the bar. he was ready to have a drink of his own.
“you always smell so good” rafayel whispers, kissing the side of her jaw. he was right, she did but so did he.
“did you miss me that much?” she teases. it had only been an hour since they arrived and their meeting with the owner of this club only lasted 10 minutes. the night was still young.
“i miss you all the time” rafayel says, now lightly grazing his teeth against her pulse point. she huffs but it turns into a soft moan when sylus squeezes her thigh.
“god you’re so beautiful” she hears him groan, taking a sip of the strong liquor he seemed to enjoy. she liked to dress up of course but she loved having all their attention on her even more.
“yeah?” she smiles softly, “you should see the rest of it”
rafayel groans and bites her shoulder in retaliation.
“tease” he scoffs before sitting up right and ordering himself a drink too. y/n was interested to see how long the two of them could wait before they were dragging her back to sylus’ place.
she bit her lip at all the possibilities before leaning forward to finish her own drink. she was a lot more patient than they were and it looked like sylus still wasn’t too pleased with the friendly bartender.
she leans back again and gasps, forgetting about her little gift she prepared. she felt a little more sexier tonight and she had rafayael to thank for that. the dress was long and silky smooth. so soft against her skin and the shoes she wore made her legs look great.
she decided to reward them both for their hard work and added a few extra presents. she started with the perfume. it was their favourite on her and a little body glitter.
then came the very sexy and over priced lingerie she bought with sylus’ card. the man didn’t even ask questions but she knows her saw the price on his phone and he was definitely curious. then the cute little plug she got from sylus. he had it made with a beautiful gem stone, a mix of deep red and purple, no doubt because of their eyes.
he was a sentimental pervert like that and she loved it, even though she pretended to be appalled by it.
normally she liked having one of them prep her. they seemed to enjoy it a lot more than she thought and she let them have their way with her but after a long and tiring week, she wants to let loose and she wasn’t in the mood to wait to be able to take it.
she wanted it the moment she was alone with them again and she always got what she wanted.
“you okay over there sweet thing?” sylus raises a brow. she wasn’t a lightweight and she hardly drank so her being a little flushed had nothing to do with alcohol.
“yeah” she breathes, “just fine”
the plug was a lot bigger than a normal one but then again so was he and rafayael wasn’t exactly on the smaller side either so she had to be prepared.
“you’re squirming a lot” rafayel chuckles, “are you that eager?”
“well.. not exactly” she lies, keeping her voice low, “it’s just a little bigger than the ones you usually make me use”
she sees sylus clench his jaw and rafayel’s eyes widen just a fraction before he narrows them.
“y/n” rafayel whispers, back in her personal space again, “you’re a little tease and you do this shit on purpose”
“is that why you let that fool flirt with you?” sylus asks, “you intend to rile us up this evening?”
“i did no such thing” she lies again, smiling far too sweetly at them both.
“we’re done here” sylus stands, “put it on my tab”
“y-yes sir!”
sylus scoffs and takes her hand.
“you want a fucker who can’t even speak properly to fuck you like i do?” he laughs but it doesn’t sound good, “i’ll show you”
sylus gently pushes her into the back of the limo as rafayel climbs in the other side. she tries to hide her excitement as rafayael tells the driver to wait outside.
“i hate to ruin this dress darling but we can always replace it” rafayel says before he’s tearing the material off her body. it should not be as hot as it is but she moans anyway, grabbing onto his shoulder as sylus tosses the remaining pieces of silk somewhere behind him.
they both take a moment to appreciate the lingerie set. it would be a shame to ruin it and sylus aches to rip it off her body but he can also tell she put a lot of thought into their gift tonight.
“all this, just for us baby?” he asks, kissing her neck as he cups her breasts. the lace feels so good against her skin and she moans, legs spreading on instinct when rafayael moves to sit between them.
“you look good” rafayel smiles, it’s a genuine soft smile that doesn’t feel appropriate for the situation but she doesn’t care. she’s happy they like it.
“i do love what’s underneath way more so..” he grins, sliding the panties off slowly before shoving them into his back pocket. normally she’d call him a pervert but she’s too focused on the way she’s staring at her pussy.
nestled between her wet folds is the plug. she must’ve been a little uncomfortable and horny since she put it inside her and the images of her fingering herself in nothing but the lacy black bra and high heels has him twitching in his pants.
sylus reaches down and brushes against her clit. kissing her before she can moan too loudly again. they were selfish that way, not wanting anyone else to hear her pretty sounds.
“fuck” rafayel bites the inside of his cheek as he pulls the plug out slowly before pushing it back in. they don’t seem to mind the mess she’s making on both their pants and when she hears a zipper, she squeezes tightly around the toy.
“there will be no taking it slow” sylus tells her, “you’ll take us both and then when we’re home, we’ll take our time okay?”
she didn’t know sylus to be this impatient. he was usually the one teasing her and riling her up until she was begging.
“he asked you a question my love” rafayel says, “you remember your words don’t you?”
“yes” she gasps, “i do”
“good girl” he praises, “let me test you out first”
she nods, gripping sylus as rafayel pulls the toy out. it should be dirty the way he puts it in his house but she moans at the sight.
“fucker” sylus chuckles.
sylus uses the hand not playing with her breast to spread her folds for rafayel. he slips 3 fingers inside her and it’s still too tight. he works her open like that for a while, wanting to make her cum at least once before they fucked her.
she was always their first priority and they’d never purposely hurt her unless it was something she asked her.
“please” y/n begs, back arching as he works a 4th finger into her. she clamps down around his fingers as she cums. rafayel kisses her as she comes down from her high.
she isn’t sure when it happened but she feels herself being lifted up and then she’s sinking down onto sylus. it burns so good and she cries out in shock. she was still sensitive from her previous orgasm but she hardly has time to breathe before rafayel is sliding in with him.
it’s so deliciously tight that she finds herself cumming again just from that. she almost screams but sylus is quick to kiss her, holding her waist.
“fuck” sylus groans, “fuck baby, stop squeezing like that”
“sorry” she whines, eyes crossing as she grabs his shoulders. she’s sure that’s going to leave a nasty mark but he never seems to mind, often encouraging it.
they didn’t do this often. none of them wanting to hurt her or push her beyond her limits. they didn’t mind taking their sweet time playing with her body but they were all a little too worked up and she was preparing for it tonight.
rafayel bites down on her shoulder, holding onto her waist just above where sylus’ hands are and she should feel a little ashamed but she doesn’t.
“please move” she begs, moving her hips on her own.
“dirty girl” rafayel whispers, thrusting very slowly as both him and sylus find the perfect rhythm inside her.
she hides her face in the crook of sylus’ neck as the begin to fuck into her harder and faster. she can feel the limo moving with them and she has a little bit of sense to be embarrassed. it wasn’t like they parked far from the entrance and the driver was right outside.
“so good” sylus says right into her ear, “you make us feel so fucking good baby, just you”
she bites down onto his shoulder as she wraps her arms around his neck. it feel good, better than usual and she wonders if it’s because they’re both so worked up.
rafayel spanks her hard before gripping her fat of her ass. he could never get used to being inside y/n, even if sylus is here with them. it feels good, everything about her was just so perfect.
“i’m close” she warns, eyes squeezing shut at how quickly she seems to be reaching her peak tonight.
she doesn’t see them sharing a look over her shoulder before they both stop moving.
“wh-why?” she cries out, looking up so fast that she almost gets whiplash.
“you’re just so pretty like this” rafayel sighs, thrusting lightly, “so we’re going to start again, be good”
she wants to protest but they start up a new rhythm, slower than the last but still so good it makes her toes curl.
“there you go sweetheart” sylus moans into her ear, “just like that”
#[ 🪼 ] xfg writes#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#sylus love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#sylus lds#rafayel lds#sylus smut#rafayel smut#lnds sylus#lnds rafayel#lds smut#lnds smut#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace smut#lads smut#sylus x you#rafayel x you#sylus x reader x rafayel#sylus x reader#rafayel x reader
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The Playboy*
Summary: The one where you're a Playboy Bunny and Harry is Hugh's assistant. The one person you aren't allowed to love.
Word Count: 8.9k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, exhibitionsim, multiple orgasms, brief choking, overstimulation
Harry's cum is dripping down your thigh.
You can see it, glistening beneath the sunlight, making it almost impossible to look away. You’re completely and utterly mesmerized by the sight of it, but Harry pretends as though he has no clue.
After all, he has to pretend. You know he’s done this on purpose. Know that he wanted to mark you right before your photoshoot with Hugh and the other Bunnies. He's sending a message, making a statement.
And really, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Harry fucked you right and you both know it. And he can pretend all he wants that it means nothing, but you’re the best lover he’s ever had. He told you himself. And perhaps that’s why he’s done this. Why he insisted that you weren’t allowed to wipe it off or hide it. Because he wants them to see. To know who you really belong to.
No matter how hard you squeeze your thighs together or attempt to brush the sticky stain away, it remains. And Harry’s proud smirk is rather obvious even from over on the grass where he observes.
You try not to look at him. To acknowledge that sadistic glee as you keep your gaze on the camera. Because if you look at him…it’s over. You won’t be able to hide your infatuation and the last thing either of you want is for Hugh to find out.
Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to notice. Then again, he has too many people around him at once to pay attention to you and your wet thighs. But you know he’d be furious if he knew what his precious Bunny was doing, one of the many reasons you and Harry are forced to keep your meetings a secret.
But you know Harry likes being your secret. Perhaps just as much as you like being his. Besides, it’s only sex. No strings attached. He’s Hugh’s assistant and you’re one of the beloved Bunnies. It’s against every rule in the book for the two of you to be together, much less sleep together.
Yet here you are.
You sometimes wonder if Harry would even give you the time of day outside of your secret rendezvous. Or if he’d avoid you altogether. You want to believe it goes deeper than just sex, but truth be told, you’re too afraid to ask.
"Your lemonade, Sir."
You watch as Harry nods his thanks and takes the cold glass from the waiter. He’s far too smug for your liking, and you’d chastise him if it were any other moment.
Still, you watch him take a rather long sip as his eyes follow you from behind those dark sunglasses.
He knows you like to be watched. That you thrive off his attention. So, he gives it to you anytime he can. Even when you’re sitting on the lap of the man that employs him.
But you like to watch him, too. And the way he looks right now, with those dark curls pushed back, now slightly disheveled from when you had your hands running through them, is rather delicious.
He leans back in his seat, strong thighs spreading as he takes another sip. It’s almost criminal, and you can practically hear the sighs of the other girls as they notice, too.
He pops the first couple buttons of his shirt free, allowing for a glimpse of his tan, sweaty skin, and you feel your stomach clench. He’s taunting you now. Reminding you who’s really in charge, and you’re nearly tempted to march right over and prove him wrong.
But you know he’s thinking the same thing you are. Remembering just a few moments ago when he had you bent over a chair as he fucked you from behind.
"Tell me how good I feel."
"Fuck you."
"Tell me how deep—"
"Not deep enough. Fuck me like you mean it, Playboy."
The second he saw you in your signature bowtie, he snatched your hand and dragged you away. And you let him, because how could you not? Even if it meant you were late for the shoot and that you’d earn a very firm frown from Hugh. It was worth it, and the evidence has been painted all over your leg.
Suddenly struck with inspiration, you give a big beam to the camera before you subtly drop your hand to your thigh and swipe your finger through the mess.
You notice Harry’s eyes widen as he straightens up, wildly intrigued. But you don’t give him the satisfaction of looking, instead keeping your eyes on the lens as suck your middle finger into your mouth.
Harry knows what coats that finger and you let your lashes flutter as though to tell him how much you enjoy the taste.
Hugh laughs, thinking it's just a clever pose for the photos, but Harry knows this show is just for him and him alone.
He slides his sunglasses a bit further down his nose, eyes sparkling like a kid in a candy store.
Yet your eyes never leave the camera, your smile wide, and your glee unmeasurable. You enjoy teasing him when you know he can’t do anything about it.
And it works, if the way he begins to shift in his seat is any indication. You can practically see his erection from here, and you have to swallow a laugh as he clenches his jaw.
Finally, you decide to put him out of his misery, and steal one glance for yourself.
The moment your eyes meet, your chest nearly caves in. The tension is thick, and it feels as though the whole world has gone quiet. It’s just you and Harry, and when he bites his lip and leans back in his seat, you about lose it.
Thankfully, almost as though heaven heard your silent plea, Hugh suddenly claps his hands together and declares the shoot through. He thanks you all for your patience and time before everyone begins to part and the camera crew packs up.
You’re off his lap in seconds, moving for the refreshments so you can grab a glass of lemonade for yourself. And hopefully encourage Harry’s attention to follow you.
You feel him behind you before you even have a chance to turn around. You recognize his cologne and the soft hum in his throat and you bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning.
“Bunny,” he murmurs, and even though it’s only been a few minutes, you’ve missed the sound of his voice. Low and raspy with just a hint of an accent.
“Harold,” you return, tossing a quick look over your shoulder before moving across the yard.
However, he’s hot on your tail, giving you absolutely no room or personal space. “That was quite a show,” he says, jogging around you to catch your eye.
You only bat your lashes as you take a sip of your drink, watching as his attention zeroes in on the way your lips wrap around the straw.
He smirks.
“Enjoyed yourself, did you?” you retort innocently, attempting to brush past him again when he suddenly grabs onto your upper arm and drags you back to him.
He dips down, mouth ghosting the side of your ear as he murmurs, “I believe you owe me a taste.”
Your eyebrow quirks. “Is that so?”
“It is.” His grip tightens. “And you know it.”
You take a quick glance around the backyard just to make sure Hugh isn’t watching before you pull yourself free and turn to Harry. “Who said you deserve to taste me?”
“I believe you did. When you were coming around my cock and begging me to do it again.”
You scoff, feigning annoyance as you attempt to walk away. However, Harry is much quicker, and he snatches hold of your wrist in order to drag you across the grass and toward the pool shed in the corner of the yard.
Thankfully nobody seems to notice, and you feel your cunt throb as he gently slams you against the wall, away from any prying eyes. And he cages you there, arms on either side of your head as you bite your lip and peer up at him.
“You’ve been quite the brat, haven’t you, little one?” he nearly purrs, wedging his knee between your clenched thighs. “Trying to tease me…embarrass me. Get me in trouble.”
You blink. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“No?” He squeezes your chin. “Show me your tongue.”
Slowly, you concede. Parting your lips and extending your tongue as he tilts your head back and stares down your throat.
“Good girl. Swallowed every drop, didn’t you?”
You nod.
“S’it feel good in your tummy, baby? Hm? Did it taste as good as you imagined?”
Another nod. Quicker and more excited.
He smiles. “Then I think it’s only fair you return the favor, hm?”
You aren’t afforded the chance to answer before he’s dropping to his knees and prying your legs apart.
“Harry—”
“Shh. I’m busy,” he murmurs, flicking the button on your costume undone until he can reach your stockings and tear them down. “S’been too long.”
“It’s been twenty minutes.”
“Exactly.”
He runs his hands along your body, enjoying the way you shiver, that wicked grin is enough to ruin you. He places your foot on his shoulder while you steady yourself against the shed, your fingers already returning to his hair.
And he watches you. So desperate and eager to please. You know he’d bury himself in your cunt with no hesitation if he could, but for now…this is all you get.
It’s one of the things you adore most about him. His need to please you, even despite his ego. In fact, from the moment you met him, he’s put your pleasure first. Demanding that you sit on his face nearly every hour of the day just so he can get a small taste. Savor you on his tongue, go home with you still smeared across his chin.
Some people do drugs. Harry does pussy.
His hands slowly smooth up your leg, taking his time to appreciate your skin while admiring the way it glistens underneath the summer sun. He begins to kiss his way along your ankle and up toward your knee.
And you work to bite back a heavy sigh. You don’t tend to trip up too often, but when it comes to Harry, you find that you can never stay quiet. And you don’t understand why. Maybe it’s because he knows how to draw out every possible noise and sensation. Somehow, even his kisses leave you whining.
Either way, you know you can’t make a noise today. Because no matter how loud the group out by the pool are, it’s not nearly loud enough to drown out your pleasured whines.
And he knows it, too.
He pauses his kisses once he reaches your inner thigh and glances up through those thick lashes of his. "You think you can stay quiet, little one?" he asks, lips brushing against your skin with every word.
You force a smile. “Do it right and we’ll see.”
It’s a challenge he’s more than eager to accept. He’s been waiting far too long to get a taste of what he left behind and wastes no more time in dragging his flattened tongue along your leg to collect the salty remnants from before.
The feeling itself isn't much but watching him...you can feel your knees growing weak. Harry knows what you like to see. Knows you adore his pink lips and the rings on his fingers. Knows you like to run your hands through his gelled hair and leave your lipstick on his shirt.
He hums, rather satisfied with himself. But before he can truly have you, you both catch the sound of commotion happening near the mansion.
You have a rather hard time tearing yourself away, but you know that if you don’t check, Hugh will coming looking for you.
So, regretfully, you drop your leg from Harry’s shoulder and peer around the shed.
Hugh is standing on one of the staircases, pipe in his mouth as he claps his hands to get everyone's attention. "All right, my dears, gather 'round. You've all been doing such good work this week, and I felt it was only right to honor you. So, for the first Saturday of the summer, I've decided we must celebrate.”
The other girls cheer as you toss Harry a curious look.
He only shrugs.
"You know the rules," Hefner continues. "But I want you to have fun and just relax tonight. The real work starts next week.”
With that, he gives his adoring audience a wink before heading back inside, leaving you to sigh to yourself.
Hugh is a stickler for rules and regulations. Curfews, no outside relationships, and absolutely no visitors. He wants to keep his girls to himself, and you know that applies to you more than anyone else.
Harry is watching you closely as you finally turn back around. “He wants me there tonight,” he tells you.
You nod. You expected nothing less. “I imagine so.”
“We won’t have as much time.”
“I know.” You readjust your outfit and attempt to wipe the lustful look from your face. “I should go.”
You get ready to slip back out into the open before Harry grabs your arm for a third time.
"I'll find you," he murmurs, more so a promise than a threat. "And I will get my taste."
You can’t help but smirk as you pat his cheek lightly. “Mm. Good luck, Playboy."
There are very few times in life when you find yourself completely and utterly breathless. Transfixed beyond doubt, mesmerized by one singular moment in time when you can't move or speak.
For you, that happened when you saw Harry enter the room for the very first time.
And then it happened again…when he slid inside you later that same night.
Two moments, one man.
One incredibly ethereal, divine, godlike man.
You hadn't expected Hugh's party to be all that exciting, but it was one of Harry’s first parties as Hugh’s assistant. Turns out…that meant something.
You had specific instructions to stay close to Hugh throughout the evening, as his favorite Bunny, and Harry had instructions to stay close as the assistant. But unlike you, Harry was instructed to follow from behind. Not to interact with any of the guests. And definitely not to be seen or heard.
But from the moment he entered the room, you knew it would be nearly impossible for anyone to keep their eyes off him.
He walked in as though surrounded by light, drawing everyone’s attention to those dark curls and that charming smile.
You couldn’t look away, so spellbound by his presence that you didn’t even realize Hugh was right beside him.
Instantly, you knew that would complicate things.
Still, you liked the challenge. And as it turned out, Harry did, too. Because while you were busy seeing him, he was busy seeing you.
Your eyes met through the crowd, even despite the many bodies and loud music. You felt yourself being drawn closer as you pushed your way toward the center of the room in a desperate attempt just to be close.
Harry did the same.
You wondered if Hugh knew what a threat Harry posed to his brand. After all, Hugh loved being the center of attention and Harry was so effortlessly stealing the attention for himself.
But it didn’t matter in that moment because Harry’s attention was yours, and once you both found your way to the center of the living room…everything changed.
You did your best to study him. Those gorgeous, textured curls. The unusual shade of green in his eye. That strong jaw that seemed to accentuate his sharp but handsome features.
He was wearing a white t-shirt that hugged each of his muscles in a way that left little to the imagination. He looked clean. Put together. So refined that all you wanted to do was trail your hands down his chiseled chest before you tore is shirt off.
And that’s when it happened.
The Moment.
Ever since that night, the two of you have been inseparable. Fucking any chance you get. In the kitchen, in the car, in the closet. His hand over your mouth, forcing you to stay silent in case Hugh might be somewhere in the mansion—which he always is.
In fact, there’s never a moment when you aren't the focus of each other's attention. Day or night, all you can think about is when you’ll see him next. Creating moments to run into each other. Planning meetings. Making excuses to find time alone.
And as it turns out, tonight is no different.
You know Hugh will be around. And even worse, he’ll be making his favorite Bunny the center of attention.
Which just means you’ll have to try a little harder to get Harry alone.
Most of the crowd will be desperate to talk to you. They always are, after all. They’ll follow you around, ask you questions, want to be in your presence.
And Harry will be somewhere hidden, keeping to himself so he’s neither seen nor heard. Although the rest of the Bunnies make that quite difficult.
For some reason, Hugh doesn’t mind if the others pay Harry a bit of attention. He only seems to mind if you do. And even though Harry will never admit it, Hugh’s possession over you makes him quite jealous.
He doesn’t enjoy the idea of having to share you, much less with a whole crowd of people and greedy men. They’ll take up all of your time. Time that should be reserved for him.
Truth be told, you find it rather cute.
So, you try to make it worth it. You sway your hips to a song just because he’s watching.
You run your hands down your body, smoothing them over each and every one of his favorite curves.
You dangle a cherry over your tongue before taking it between your lips, your cheeks hollowing as you suck the sweet fruit into your mouth.
It drives him absolutely mad, and you can already see him fighting the temptation to stride over to you right now.
You’re sitting by the pool, legs dangling over the side as you chat with Paul Newman. He’s leaning his body closer and closer toward yours, inviting himself into your space as you laugh and throw your head back with glee just to give Harry a proper show.
You do your best to flirt with the handsome man—which isn’t all that difficult, really—before you notice Harry march himself over to the drink stand.
Instantly, he begins chatting up Sophia Loren. One of the most stunning women you think you’ve ever seen and immediately, your eyes narrow.
So that’s how he wants to play it.
He’s not subtle about the way he stares at her, raking his eyes up and down her figure rather shamelessly. And she smiles, eating up his attention until you nearly chip a tooth from how hard you’re gritting your teeth.
It’s rather cute, all things considered. He’s really trying to make you jealous. But why should you be? Paul Newman is every bit as handsome, if not more, and happens to be someone you can actually sit and have a conversation with.
In fact, Hugh was the one who set it up. He introduced the two of you and insisted you get to know each other.
You knew what he really wanted from the interaction, but neither you nor Paul will be entertaining such an idea. After all, he is happily married. And you just enjoy getting to know him.
Paul is still chatting away as you both swing you legs through the warm water, and even though you can’t help feeling rather starstruck by those gorgeous blue eyes…you’re remind of a pair of green ones that are currently still checking out someone else.
So, you gently put your hand on Paul’s chest in a subtle signal for him to wind his story down. You tell him that you’re going to go grab a drink and he nods before helping you stand from the pool.
You make your way for the bar—rather aware of the number of eyes on you as you walk—yet Harry still seems to be rather immersed in his conversation with the starlet. And now you aren’t sure if this really is just for show or if she truly has caught his eye.
Either way, you decide a little eavesdropping can’t hurt. So, you subtly make your way around the pool and toward the back of the drink station, just out of sight. Close enough to hear, but not so close as to be seen.
“Are you enjoying yourself this evening?” Harry is asking, and you catch just a glimpse of those dimples.
Sophia hums, looking around the large backyard that seems to sparkle underneath such a dark sky. "Oh, yes. Hugh always throws the best parties."
"He does. Are you here with someone?"
You suck in a quiet breath while Sophia laughs, shaking out her perfectly styled curls. “No, not at all. I like to…come alone. Window shop.”
“Window shop?” Harry repeats with a smirk.
“Yes. I like to see what’s to be seen. To decide if I’ll be leaving alone as well.”
Harry chuckles, and the sound of it makes your stomach flutter. “I see. Well, I have to admit, that does sound like an excellent plan.”
Sophia studies him. “And…you? Will you be leaving alone?”
Harry runs his tongue over his lip before glancing toward the spot near the pool where you once were. But once he notices you’re missing, his eyebrow raises. “I hope not.”
She smiles. “Come,” she says, taking his hand. “We dance.”
With that, she leads him toward the middle of the yard where a few people are already swaying to the music.
You watch them dance with a rather wounded expression, doing your best to remind yourself what this really is.
You don’t imagine Sophia will be taking him home tonight—he’s handsome, but she’s far out of his league—yet you can’t help that spark of jealousy that finally burns in your chest.
What Harry lacks in brains he makes up for in charisma. And he looks rather breathtaking out there, moving his hips to the melody and grabbing at her waist while she laughs and swings her arms around his neck.
For a moment, you almost wish that you could dance with him like that. So open and uninhibited. But you know that this arrangement only lasts for the summer. Once fall comes, the two of you will part ways, and the fun will be through.
Eventually, the two of them return to the bar for more drinks, and you’re forced to scurry back out of sight just in time to ear the rest of their conversation.
"She is...stunning,” Sophia says as they approach.
Harry’s head tilts. “Who?”
“The woman you keep looking for.”
Harry grins as he lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Hm.” She takes a sip of her drink as she watches him. “One cannot win a game if the other player doesn’t know they are playing.”
"Maybe. But I’m not playing any games.”
She scoffs. “Aren’t you? Talking to me but wanting her?”
Harry seems rather surprised by this, and you feel yourself grin as you finally breeze your way around the corner in full view of them both.
“A scotch, please, darling,” you call to the bartender before glancing to your left. “Oh! Hi, Sophia. Harold.”
Sophia laughs. “Hello, dear. Fantastic party. You look beautiful.”
“As do you,” you return. “So happy you made it, despite your current choice in companion.”
Harry’s eyes roll.
“Oh, he’s not so bad,” she says, reaching up to wipe her thumb across his bottom lip. “Rather…sweet.”
Harry feigns a smug smirk even though you can tell he’s rather surprised by the action.
Still, you refuse to play along. “I suppose he can be when Hugh isn’t around.”
She chuckles to herself before offering you a quick kiss to the cheek before bidding the two of you goodbye so she can make the rounds.
Rather satisfied, you give Harry a proud look of your own before grabbing your drink and turning on your heel.
But, true to form, he’s chasing after you and taking a handful of your hip in order to bring you to a stop.
“Bunny,” he warns beneath a raspy breath. “I thought I made myself clear—”
“I don’t know what you mean, I was only chatting,” you retort, pulling yourself from his hand with a huff.
“No, you were not. You were being a brat and I’d like you to stop.”
“Stop what? Being delightful?”
“No. Stop toying with me.” He regards you carefully. “I know what you’re doing.”
"I'm talking. After all, that is my job—"
"No, your job is to be a good little Bunny, and do as you're told," he argues, straightening up so he has the advantage of height. "And I’m telling you that I will not play these games with you any longer.”
“What games?”
“The game where you try to rub my nose in that,” he says, gesturing angrily toward Paul.
“It’s not a game. He’s quite delightful. And I don’t believe I’m quite through with him yet—”
“Enough,” he seethes, suddenly yanking you back to him. “You know you don't want to talk to him. Or entertain his sad attempts at flirting. So, give it up, and come with me—"
"Beg me."
He leans back. “Excuse me?”
“Beg me,” you repeat calmly, even though your pussy is just about throbbing from the possessive tone of voice.
His head cocks. “I said end this—"
"Beg me, and maybe I will.”
He looks at you for another moment more before his eyes flick toward the mansion in search of Hugh. Having this conversation in such an open space is rather reckless, especially with so many witnesses. But you just can’t help it. He never seems to listen.
Harry knows his time is running out, as well as his patience, so he runs a hand through his hair and releases a strained exhale.
“Fine,” he concedes darkly. “Fine. Please…end this. And come with me.”
You bite back a smile. "Hm... I don't know, Paul and I were just having such a good time—"
"Please," he repeats, almost viciously. "Fucking end this. Now.”
By now, you know exactly what Harry's last straw looks like. What it sounds like. His voice, twisted with need and lust, becomes hoarser the closer he creeps to desperation. His grip becomes tighter, and his pupils nearly blow-out with desperation.
It happens when he's fucking into you so hard that you see stars. When his tongue is so far inside you that neither of you can breathe. And when you’re taking him so well down your throat that you think you’ll sink right through the floor.
It's the same voice. The same urgency. And you can’t help but feel a little intrigued.
You nod. “Fine.”
"Good. Meet me in the coat closet," he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. "Five minutes."
"Harry—"
“Go,” he repeats, before releasing you so he can slip inside the mansion.
You don’t need to be told twice. You immediately make your way for the door, weaving your way through the crowd in search of that familiar closet.
The inside of the house is packed with people. It’s loud and chaotic and there are more celebrities here than you can name.
But right now, you couldn’t care less. There’s only one person on your mind. One beautiful body that you can’t wait to run your hands down and it’s only five minutes away.
Once you’ve hidden yourself away in the small, dark space, you imagine all the things he might do. One of his favorites is watching the way he disappears inside you. The way your pussy stretches open to take his cock until you’re both a rather wet mess. You don’t doubt that he’ll find a way to do so tonight, and the thought makes you giddy.
Or perhaps he’ll blindfold you. Cut off all your senses until he’s all you know. Maybe you’ll blindfold him, another favorite.
Truthfully, it doesn’t really matter what he does as long as he does it. Because even the thought leaves you breathless.
The door swings open exactly two minutes later. Harry is quick to lock you both in and turn on the light, twisting the bulb between his fingers until you can see everything you couldn’t before. Mostly coats and hats, but then…him. Somehow just as stunning as he was a few minutes ago, and smiling in a way that makes you want to drag him to his knees.
“You obeyed,” he whispers, stepping up to you until he can softly run his palm along your cheek. “You are a good little bunny after all, aren’t you?”
You pull your lip between your teeth. “Only when I think you deserve it.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
He leans closer, nose brushing against yours. “And do I still deserve that taste?”
Your lashes flutter before you forcefully push him away and point to his belt. “Take off your pants.”
You don’t want to have to rush, but you know Hugh will be looking for you soon so you can be by his side for his grand speech. Which means you’ll have to save the sensual looks and teasing touches for another day.
He starts with his shirt instead of his pants (just to spite you), grabbing at his collar before slipping the fabric over his head. Then he reaches for his zipper and drags it down, as slowly as he can all while keeping his eyes on yours.
With a rather unamused huff, you finally swat his hands out of the way in order to do it yourself.
You yank the dark material down his legs, taking note of the boxers around his hips that practically call to you. You allow your fingers to slowly trail along his thighs. Higher and higher, groping at the strong flesh as he sighs and watches you with flushed cheeks.
Finally, you move for the band at his waist, pulling on it until it snaps back against his stomach, making him grunt.
He drops his head back with a curse, but once you start to drag your tongue along his abs…it’s game over.
His hand is instantly in your hair, tugging at the scalp as though to remind you who’s really in charge. But you can feel his muscles quivering beneath your tongue and you hum when you hear him exhale your name.
You reach his pecs, taking a moment to brush your lips over his hardened nipple. He doesn’t seem to understand why this feels so good, but he enjoys it, and he certainly enjoys watching you do it, too.
You never leave him unsatisfied. You don’t think you could even if you tried. Sometimes, all you have to do is kiss him, and he’s nearly coming in his shorts as he grinds you against his lap.
He knows his pleasure isn’t nearly as important as yours, but he enjoys the time you dedicate to him, nonetheless.
You graze the nipple with your teeth, pulling it ever so slightly until he hisses, head dipping as your foreheads meet.
He wraps his fingers around the back of your neck with a firm squeeze before he’s pulling you up and kissing you hard. He starts with his tongue, exploring your mouth like it’s the first time, and honestly…it almost feels like it is.
Teeth clash, noses brush, breaths are stolen. You devour each other, greedy hands roaming freely, tangling in each other's hair.
"Can’t fucking stand you," he nearly groans against your mouth, his hips knocking into yours as he keeps you trapped against his chest. "Teasing me all night. Playing with me."
"You love it," you pant. "Love it when I play with you."
He grins. “Maybe I do.”
His hand moves to your one-piece until he finds the apex of your thighs. He smooths his palm along your cunt, cupping you harshly as you reel. He wants to feel how warm you are—how wet and desperate.
And you want him to feel it, too.
You swallow a needy sigh, almost as though you can’t let him hear. He can’t know how good this really feels. How depraved you really are of his touch. How starved.
But he knows. You know he knows, even through one little kiss.
It’s maddening.
He grabs onto the corset, ready to rip it down and reveal your chest to his hungry eyes, but you quickly snatch his wrist.
“No,” you exhale, shaking your head slightly. “Can’t rip it. Gentle.”
He scoffs, almost as though the thought of being gentle with you is absurd. Still, he knows Hugh would notice if your outfit has been torn, so he obeys, and unzips you instead.
The suit falls away, finally allowing him a good look at what you’ve been hiding from him all night.
Instantly, he’s got your tits in his hands, pulling at the tender flesh with a lewd grunt.
“Pretty,” he murmurs before sucking one into his mouth. “Fucking killing me, Bunny.”
Like a starved wolf, he starts to leave a trail of kisses wherever he can. Sloppy kisses that make you shiver as you fist his curls and laugh at the feel of your nipple between his teeth.
He swirls his tongue just the way you did, then flicks it gently while you sigh in his ear. Eventually, his fingers make their way to their previous spot, brushing at your inner thighs as though to warn you. And you’re given only a few seconds to prepare before he’s slipping the middle one inside and making you gasp.
The noise is covered by the loud music outside of the door, but Harry still hears it, and he beams as he starts to pump you slowly.
Your body invites him in the way it always does, squeezing him gently and clenching as though to keep him close.
“Shit,” he curses, once again pressing his mouth to yours. “Missed this pretty pussy, baby.”
His large digit suddenly curls upward, motioning a moan from your lips and there it is. That’s what you needed.
You hold onto him for dear life, already lost in the feel. He's always been rather exceptional at touching you. At knowing your body better than anyone else does.
You’ve tried to replicate his actions on yourself, tried to make yourself cum as hard as he makes you when he’s the one doing it. But it's never the same. It feels like a waste of time to even try. It'll be weak and short. Pitiful. And trying again never works because it's just as disappointing as the first time.
But Harry…with his long fingers, his firm hand, his ravenous lips. Nothing will ever compare.
"Feel so good, sweetheart," he praises, lips staining your skin as he kisses the hollow of your neck. "Good girl. Lift for me, yeah?"
You obey, offering him your leg which he's quick to hook around his waist, spreading your open a bit further so he can slide himself deeper inside.
Another finger, another curl, another pinch. His thumb presses into your clit, circling it rapidly, making you whine into his shoulder. You can feel the coil already ready to snap, hardly surprised by how quickly you got here, but you know he’ll make sure to drag it on for as long as possible.
And as if to prove this, he slips his fingers out, and raises them to his lips. You nearly wilt right then and there, but you manage to hold your impatient façade as you cock your eyebrow upward before yanking his hand out and kissing him.
You can taste yourself on his lips, something you always seem to enjoy. The mix of you both together.
And this is when he decides to ruin you, plunging his fingers back in with vigor until he hits that perfect spot. The one that has you gasping for air and moaning his name.
Your chest heaves with deep breaths. You’re close and you know it won’t be long until your cunt is fluttering around his hand and you’re dripping down his wrist. But you need more than that. Especially because this is the last time you’ll be with him for a while.
So, you grab onto his jaw and forcefully bring his eyes to yours.
“No,” you hiss. “Not like this. Fuck me like you mean it, Playboy.”
He hums, all without slowing his rhythm. “Impatient, little one?”
“Obviously.”
He makes an amused noise, but he doesn’t stop his thrusts. He plans to make you cum just like this before he fucks you and you don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.
You move your hand to his throat, squeezing the sides gently as you feel him swallow. His pulse is pounding beneath your fingertips, blown-out pupils glued to yours as you add just the slightest bit of pressure.
His soft inhale makes your stomach flutter. You happen to adore him like this, on the verge of complete submission. Merciless at your feet.
But you know it won’t last long. And once his eyelids begin to flutter, you yank him down for another kiss. Stealing the only breath he has left.
You can practically feel his cock twitching against your thigh as you tug his curls and suck on his tongue. But he’s not one to be outdone, and he continues rubbing your clit as quickly as he can, sweeping his fingers in a circle while you roll your hips against his hand.
"Gentle, sweetheart," he warns, throwing your own instruction back at you.
You want to retort with a quippy remark of your own but choose instead to lick a stripe along his jaw. That suffices as your reply.
You don't have a lot of time, at least not for games. You’re playing against the clock, and you know Hugh will be calling for you any second.
Any other night, Harry would most likely edge you all the way to the brink. But tonight, he knows better, and he does everything he can to make you cum.
And when you do, you nearly lose your balance. It’s one of the most blinding and toe-curling orgasms you’ve ever had in your life. So much better than when you do it alone and you’re so grateful for his cocky attitude for the first time all summer.
Your body melts into his as you start to come down from your high. You almost wish it would never end. The way his lips feel on your cheek. The sound of his soft, proud praises in your ear. It’s everything.
But you know that’s not what he’s good for. So, instead, you push him away and step back. “Down.”
He looks at you. “Down?”
You nod toward the floor. “You wanted a taste. So take a taste, sweetheart.”
He crosses his arms. “Mm. Ask me nicely.”
“Excuse me?”
“Ask me nicely to eat you out and maybe I will.”
Your expression falls flat. “Take the goddamn taste, Harold, or I will go out there and find somebody who will.”
He’s amused, but you know he’s also nervous. He doesn’t like the idea that you’d take yourself from him, so, he clears his throat and slowly lowers to his knees.
Exactly where he belongs.
His head bows, something he doesn’t do quite that often, and your heart soars. He looks beautiful like this. Submissive and good. Everything you know he’s not.
You brush your fingers through the curls draping across his forehead and he seems to settle into your touch before you’re hooking your finger under his chin and lifting his head.
Your eyes meet, a look of utter reverence written across his face as he gazes at you with awe and respect. And your stomach nearly twists as you whisper, “You know what to do.”
And he does. His mouth turns up in a gentle smile as he slowly reaches for your ankle. He resumes his earlier position, the bottom of your heel on top of his shoulder for access, and his other hand reaching to grab your hip and pull you towards his face.
You immediately bite your lip, anticipating the noises that are about to follow.
Similar to this afternoon, he starts gentle, pressing kisses into your thighs ever so slowly. You know you’re soaking him. Can hear it and see it, even in the dim closet light.
He drags his tongue up your leg, collecting every drop that’s at his disposal, while you continue pushing back his hair so you can see him clearly.
Finally, he reaches your swollen clit, still sensitive from his last assault, before he’s eagerly tracing it with the tip of his tongue.
You writhe in his hands, head turning to the side as you open your mouth to exhale a curse. And this seems to feed his ego because he repeats the action again, nose pressing into your hip as he inhales you like you’re fresh air on a spring day. Like you’re the only thing he wants in his lungs—the only breath he wants to take.
You pull his head closer as though to encourage him, and your name falls from his lips like rain.
“My sweet Bunny,” he nearly groans. “Can never get enough of you.”
“Good,” is all you can say. “We don’t have a lot of time, though. You need to be quick.”
“Who says I’m through? You owe me, sweetheart.”
You give his curls a sharp yank. “No. Get up and fuck me.”
He pouts, feigning a tantrum, but you know his cock is throbbing rather pitifully for you. So, he obliges, standing to his feet while you gather yourself in wait.
He tugs down his boxers, the only fabric left between you, and you try not to stare as you grab onto his shoulders and prepare to sink down.
“Five minutes,” you instruct softly. “Make it count.”
However, before you can feel that glorious tip pushing its way through, he’s suddenly grabbing onto your hips and spinning you around. Shoving you against the coat closet wall as you gasp.
Instantly, his hand comes up to slap against your lips. “Hush now," he hisses against your ear. "Unless you want Hugh to know what I'm really doing to his pretty girl?"
You’d roll your eyes if you didn’t feel his hips knocking into yours, giving you just a taste of what’s to come. Instead, you glance over your shoulder in an attempt to see him, and nod once.
But this isn’t good enough. So, he reaches for the bowtie around your neck, pulling on it until it snaps off into his hand. He holds it as though it were a prize he won in battle before he’s slipping it over your head and into your mouth.
You take it between your teeth and bite down obediently.
“Good,” he hums, giving your ass a quick spank. The sound echoes between the small walls. “That’s much better, hm?”
You feel him drag his cock through your dripping folds while his other hand ghosts down the curve of your spine. He’s gentle with you, despite his cruel taunting, and you’re almost impressed. Infatuated, even.
His warm body feels so good against yours. Luring you into a sense of security you can’t seem to find anywhere else. And you rather enjoy it as you feel the thickness of him starting to stretch you open.
You moan around the tie while Harry grunts in your ear. Just like the first time the two of you found yourselves in this position.
And exactly like every other time before, he doesn’t rush you. He lets you feel—lets you enjoy—every inch and every second. Any other time, he’d make you beg. Beg him to go harder, go deeper. But tonight, you can’t, and it’s almost a shame he won’t get to hear it.
Instead, you offer a muffled whimper that seems to do the trick, and he chuckles to himself. “Need more, don’t you?”
You nod quickly, and he wraps his arms around your stomach in order to tug you back and guide you along his cock the way he wants.
He goes faster. His five minutes is now down to four, and he knows he’ll have to make this quicker than usual. Sharp, hard thrusts that make your legs shake and your heart race. But somehow, it’s still not enough.
“You like to play with me, don’t you, hm?” he begins to taunt. An angrier tone than before. “Make me watch you? With him?”
Your eyes nearly roll back, and you whine against the fabric on your tongue.
"Think I don't know?" he scoffs. "Think I don't know who this pussy belongs to?"
He starts to slow. A rather achingly languid pace that’s meant to make you scream, and you nearly do.
“I do,” he promises in a dark whisper. “I know exactly who you belong to.”
You arch your back and reach for his hair. Pulling his face into your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses all the way down to your shoulder.
“So stay,” he murmurs. “Stay with me. Don’t go back to him. Don’t make me jealous, Bunny. Don’t make me watch him touch you. Please.”
Please.
A word he rarely uses, even when you instruct him to. But it sounds so beautiful between his lips, and you nearly tell him you’ll never leave him again.
But you know he doesn’t mean it. It’s just what you say in a moment like this. So, you whimper, and tug on him harder. Pretending to agree until he smiles.
The small coat room has become a sauna, your naked bodies now writhing together as the rest of the world continues on around you.
You can hear the music, the people, the party. A constant reminder that while you’ve disappeared into your own little world within this closet...the two of you will never truly be alone.
But you don’t get a chance to focus on that when his hand suddenly reaches around to take hold of your chest. Plucking your nipple between his large, rough fingertips. You brace your forehead against the wall as you push yourself into his palm. Anxious for more, which he happily gives you.
The two of you move like the tide, one fluid motion of your bodies in rhythmic harmony. He leaves your tit to focus on your clit. Forcing you closer to a second orgasm that already feels much stronger than the first.
"Here," he breathes. “Give me your hand. Want you to touch yourself for me, okay? So I can watch you.”
Your arm trembles as you move it toward your thighs, where he easily takes your fingers and places them against your pussy exactly the way his had been.
“Just like that. Good. Rub it for me, sweetheart. Yeah…there you go. Attagirl. Keep going, don’t stop.”
You feel his eyes over your shoulder as you pinch and rub the swollen nerves as your legs shake. After a moment, he grabs your thigh and lifts your knee to the wall. Giving himself a different and deeper angle as you nearly cry out around the bowtie in your mouth.
Everything feels wet. And warm. And perfect. And you know you’re moments away from coming around his cock for the second time today.
“How you doing, baby?” he chuckles when he notices the fucked-out expression on your face. “You all right?”
You nod as best you can and clench down on his cock for confirmation. And he makes a rather animalistic noise before he’s grabbing onto your tit again and groping it in his palm.
“Good. You gonna cum for me, little one? Milk me like I know you can?”
Another nod. You can hear the party growing louder, which means it’s almost midnight. And that means Hugh’s speech will be any second now.
You’re squirming harder, unable to fight such intense pleasure as it comes from his cock and your fingertips. But he catches you, grip tightening around your thigh as he squeezes so hard, you know you’ll see bruises in the shape of his name tomorrow.
But you don’t mind. You know you’ll be able to touch them in the shower and remember this—remember him.
“Cum,” he instructs, almost viciously. “Right now, Bunny. Fucking cum. Let me feel you. Gotta feel you, honey, please.”
You roll yourself back onto his cock just to feel full while he kisses your jaw and begs you to let go.
You’re so close you can nearly taste it. And he’s even closer than you, doing his best to hold out but you know it’s rather hard with the watch you’re squeezing him.
And when you feel him start to buck and twitch, you can’t help but smile.
He spills inside you as he bottoms out. He hates coming first, and always tries incredibly hard not to. But tonight, you can’t exactly fault him, and as it turns out, the feel of him inside you—so warm it makes your head spin—is what you need to follow.
The orgasm nearly explodes behind your eyelids as you scream into the tie, forcing Harry to slap his hand back over your mouth to silence you.
“Quiet,” he hisses, nose pressed against your cheek. “Shut up.”
Yet you don’t even try. You don’t care that you might get caught or that someone could hear. Perhaps you will once the consequences catch up to you, but right now? Right now, you moan into his hand and allow every moment of this pleasure to take control of you.
Your sweaty bodies melt together, damp hair clinging to your skin as Harry finally lets go and steps back.
But instead of pulling his clothes back on, the sadistic man drops back down to his knees, and spins you around.
He brushes your hand away from your clit in order to do the work himself. Resuming his previous pace on your rather abused nerves until you nearly crumble to the floor.
It’s almost too much. Your eyes roll back and your head drops against the wall. You can’t stand it, yet you can’t get enough.
“One more,” is all he says before diving forward for a lick. “Just one more, baby.”
You’re too sensitive. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you watch him through the blissful haze as he closes his eyes to savor the taste.
It’s a mix of you and him, and watching him lap at you like a thirsty man desperate for a drink is sinful. He’s so good. So beautiful like this. Devoted just to you the way no other man ever has been before.
Outside, you can hear the sound of Hugh calling for everyone’s attention. Your heart leaps into your throat. He’ll be furious if you’re not there. If he has to find you. And if he finds you with Harry?
You don’t have any more time. You have to go. Right now. But you’re so close, and Harry isn’t stopping, and you just need to finish, you just need…need—
You cum for the third and final time with a rather lewd and anguished moan.
Instantly, you start to slump forward as Harry leaps to his feet in order to keep you upright.
“That’s my girl,” he coos. “There you go. I’ve got you. S’okay.”
Your vision is fuzzy as you grip onto his shoulders for balance, the taste of the orgasm still bleeding along your tongue.
But you can’t bid him goodbye just yet. So, you rip the tie from your mouth and kiss him. Drowning in the taste of him and you together. And nothing else really matters except his hands and the way they hold you close.
“Good boy,” you exhale after you’ve pulled apart.“Knew you could do it.”
He only grins.
The two of you quickly work to redress, pulling on your clothes and shoes while Harry’s cum continues to streak down your thighs. It seems he didn’t get it all, and the realization that you’ll have to go out there with him still snug inside your cunt makes your stomach flutter.
When Harry notices your surprised expression, he winks. “Wanna make sure you’re thinking of me when you’re standing next to him.”
You scoff. But deep down, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Harry helps you secure the tie back around your neck, effectively covering the hickeys he so generously left for you to find later. And you make sure to brush back his curls so they look a little more tame before swiping your thumb across his chin to collect what’s left of you.
And once you’ve finally gathered yourself, you move for the door, only stopping to give him one last glance.
“This was nice,” you tell him honestly. “Just make me a deal, okay?”
His eyebrow raises.
“Next time? Don’t wait so long.”
With that, you’re out the door. Leaving the breathless man behind. But you know it certainly isn’t the last time you’ll see him. After all, the summer is far from over.
And you’re just getting started.
HI!!! I just wanted to say that even though we have a Hugh Hefner in this story, I don't consider it to be the same one as the real one! I used his name because he's so famously associated with Playboy but I do not agree with or condone anything that he's done or how he treated people!
I am only using his name, but please imagine anyone you'd like! 💞
~ Main Masterlist
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin
@justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda
@vamprry @fdl305 @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach
@lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana
@dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
@laelamarley @idkkkkkkk123lgb
#harry#harry styles#harry edward styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan#harry styles request#harry styles concept#smut#concept#dom!harry#domrry#harry and bunny#playboy harry#the playboy#1965#playboy!harry
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puppy!reader trying to break up with rafe or just distancing herself because she overheard someone saying they couldn’t understand how rafe could be with a pogue and it hurts her feelings and has her overthinking :( (obviously rafe later on gets her to tell him who said that and he deals with it)
꒰ ౨ৎ .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ����
he was used to you being all over him. if you weren’t constantly yapping in his ear, you were using him like a climbing frame, subtly rubbing your needy cunt on his leg or trying to stick a body part of his in your mouth. so, the difference in your behaviour all of a sudden was palpable.
you’d been at the country club. not particularly because you liked it there, you knew despite recently joining the kook life people still saw you as less than — but you had to say, the icecream they served was top notch, and you wouldn’t keep yourself away despite being told off plenty of times by rafe for overdoing it on the sugar and then getting hyperactive.
you step away from the counter with your cone, smiling to yourself at the small victory when your ears picks up on a conversation round the corner. you stop in your tracks, realising it’s about you.
“i mean she’s definitely hot, i’ll give him that. in like, a weird way. she’s got the whole ‘fuck me daddy’ thing going on, you know. she’s helpless. rafes gotta be fuckin’ her.” a kook you didn’t even recognise comments, sipping at his beer.
“dont be weird, bro.” another turns his nose up.
“its true! i dont care man, i know rafe — he fuckin’ hates pogues, he wouldn’t be caught dead with one, ‘specially not one as obvious as her. the girls a mess, and mommy and daddy suddenly coming into money ain’t gonna change that about her.”
your heart sinks as you continue to listen to the berating. in the north carolina heat, icecream didn’t stay structurally sound for long — and you’re only dragged out of your eavesdropping session when the dome of strawberry icecream slides straight off its podium, splatting on the floor besides your sandals, leaving you with just the cone in your hand. you stare down at it, barely registering the loss.
you’d overthought it— something rather uncommon of you. when a few hours had passed, and rafe hadn’t had you hurtling through his front door with a ladybug on your finger or something of the sorts, he actually wondered where you might be— so he showed up at your door.
you wasn’t expecting him. he never chased you, always letting you come to him first — but something felt off, and his curiosity got the better of him.
“w—what is this, you not comin’ over to bother me today?” he shakes his head and your brows crease, staring at the eldest cameron in your doorway.
“no…” you reply quietly, even going the extra length to avoid his eyes. you weren’t trying to be obvious about it, but you couldn’t help that you were upset. he stares at you for a moment, unnerved by your unusual mood.
“…well can i come in or what?”
you allow him, purely because despite your mood you didn’t like to be impolite.
“whats up with you? i already told you to stop watchin’ those animal planet documentaries, kid. they upset you, alright i—”
“i wasn’t.” you snap, and he looks over — your tone grabbing his attention from wandering around your living room, seeing you standing in the corner clutching yourself like you didn’t know what to do. you were so used to being all over him that standing by yourself felt odd.
he scratches his cheek awkwardly, eyes flickering over you. “shit, you mad at me or somethin’?”
slowly, you sit down on the couch, tucking your feet beneath you.
“i’m just trying to give you space.”
he huffs a laugh out from his chest, thinking you’re joking — but his smile fades a little when he sees that you’re not. “yeah? you were all over me yesterday, now what — you shy?”
“i’m a pogue.” you raise your voice over his just a tad, bringing your knees to your chest. the statement catches him off guard, and he sways awkwardly on the spot, watching you.
“yeah no shit. so what.” he drawls, and his agreement stings.
“you hate pogues. so… you hate me.” you draw the conclusion and he fights an eyeroll, walking over to where you’re sat briskly.
“listen if i hated you you’d fuckin’ know about it, alright? i don’t hate you. you’re a pain in my ass, but… but nah.” he shakes his head, settling down on the seat next to you and pushing his hair back, not enjoying the idea of being vulnerable. it made him a little uncomfortable. “where… where is this coming from anyways? since when did you give a shit ‘bout all that?”
“since the people at the club were saying stuff.” you mutter, and now he’s really invested. his head snaps towards you, arm freezing in the air from pushing his hair out of his face. he could tolerate the weird moods, but he wouldn’t tolerate people disrespecting you or him.
“huh?”
your lip starts to tremble at the memory, voice growing higher as you speak. “there was a group of boys, and they were saying i was a mess and that im nothing and that you had to be fucking me because that’s the only thing i could offer you and i dropped my icecream and—”
“what?” he turns his whole body towards you as you let out a quiet sob, wide eyes darting between your wet one.
“i dropped my icecream!”
“no— kid, who was saying this shit?” his outrage is somewhat comforting and you sniffle, wiping your snotty nose on the back of your hand.
“i don’t know his name. he had a green shirt on.”
he leans back in his seat for a moment, wiping hands down his face — a little frustrated with your inability to identify the culprits. he pushes his palms into his eyes for a moment, realising it’s not your fault — and you were already upset. sighing out his nose, he looks at you once more, shuffling as close to you as he can.
“quit listenin’ to nobodies at the club, a’ight? you… you think people don’t say shit about me? running their mouth about my private business? they — they do, alright— but what i don’t do is cry about it n’let them think they won. i handle that shit, like i’m gonna handle this.”
you blink at him, hanging onto his every word. you really were adorable, and as much as he’ll never admit it, his heart softens at how sweet you were by nature. you didn’t deserve to be picked on by people that weren’t him.
“how do you know who they are?” you tilt your head, really emulating a puppy and he presses his lips together, shrugging a shoulder and shaking his head.
“uh, you’re gonna point ‘em out next time we go to the club. i’ll… i’ll handle it from there.”
you nod, hating that you’ve caused any kind of conflict at all, eyes drifting towards as you burrow yourself into thoughts of guilt. before you can think too much, rafe grips your jaw — meaning well, but still carrying that boyish roughness. “hey. you’re my girl, alright? i don’t let shit slide.”
he’d never called you his girl before, so instantly — you’re all sniffly smiles, launching at him to clamber onto his lap once more.
꒰ ౨ৎ .ᐟ .ᐣ ᡣ𐭩
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mirror sex [dean winchester] ── ✮⋆˙
kinktober 2024
ship: dean x afab!fem!reader genre: smut, angst to note/warnings: explicit – minors dni, established relationship, hunt almost gone wrong, canon-level violence, patching/stitching up wounds, dean’s self loathing tendencies, hurt/comfort, little bit of praise kink, fingering, porn with plot word count: 3.6k a/n: three days until halloween and i feel like i’m way behind on kinktober. i might just try to get to some of these during november as well, my apologies. also, the cat’s out of the bag: i’m a sucker for angst. i’m curious what you guys enjoy to read/write the most, are you more into fluff, smut, or angst?
Dean’s harsh on himself. Always. You knew that even before you started dating him. It’s how he grew up, after all. From a young age it’s been drilled into him by John; that he has to be tough and strong, that he isn’t allowed to think before he acts, that certain things have to be done – even when these things are ugly. Even when they turn other things ugly. Things like the sight of his hands afterwards. Things like his whole reflection, honestly.
It’s days like these where he enters autopilot, in a poor attempt of resorting to a self-defense mechanism. He can’t stand the reflection in the mirror, so he simply doesn’t look. He wouldn’t like what he sees, so he avoids it altogether, if he can.
Saving people, hunting things, the family business – killing monsters always sounds so heroic until you realize your decisions are cut-and-dry to the cruelest degree, until the soap can only scrub clean the red from your hands but not the guilt that still sticks to your skin, and until you begin to wonder who the actual monster is.
Dean’s harsh on himself in that he blames himself for everything. It’s all his responsibility, the weight of the world always on his shoulders.
Hunts go wrong. It’s part of the job, but that thought isn’t as comforting as it should be, because it doesn’t change anything and it doesn’t take away any of the gravity.
Dean and you had been tracking down this pack of aggressive werewolves. The job had sounded so easy, everything had been so straight-forward. Until you two realized that the town’s sheriff was in on it, and ultimately, so was his son. Partially, at least. Just a kid, barely twenty-one – about the age when Sam hit the library, when he should’ve hit on cute girls on campus, around the age of frat parties with beer-pong cups and hangovers.
A guy who had his whole life ahead of him, but had it snuffed out by a silver bullet to his chest. (or rather, by Dean’s finger pulling that trigger, if you’d ask Dean how it went down, because he sees no point in distancing himself from the narrative when it was his doing). Not because that kid wanted any of it. Hell, as Dean and you had been investigating the case, you came to realize all that boy wanted was a peaceful life. And you knew it was possible, some werewolves were able to build up normalcy without killing anybody, picket-fence and all, more so than your average hunter, sometimes.
But you had shot the sheriff, given that he’d been systematically kidnapping his victims throughout the years. And upon witnessing the silver piercing through his father’s chest, the student went downright feral. He attacked you and jumping you, going for a bite that never landed, was the last thing he ever did.
“You had to shoot him,” you told Dean in the car, just like he predicted you would.
“I know,” came Dean’s reply and those were the only words during the whole ride, just like you predicted they’d be.
Even upon arrival back at the bunker, he remains silent. The loudest noises are just his footsteps, which are heavier than usual as he drags you to your shared room, and ultimately the slam of the bathroom door that he shuts behind the two of you.
“Sit,” he says, voice laced with anger that you know he only directs at himself, and nudges you to the edge of the bathtub. You know better than to argue with him and despite the fact that there’s a nasty gash on his shoulder, you let him clean the minor scratch above your eyebrow first. You must’ve hit your head back when the werewolf slammed you against a shelf, but you’ve definitely had worse. But Dean puts others before himself and your wellbeing is always his priority.
Yet, his ministrations aren’t exactly gentle. He dabs the rubbing alcohol to your cut brow without any regard for the way you wince slightly. His eyes don’t meet yours as he shoves his hand into the cupboard and impatiently fishes for bandages. His jaw is clenched tightly as he patches you up with a bandaid.
He’s in his own head, clearly – or trying to keep those spiraling thoughts at bay within his self-critical mind. Those what ifs and should’ve dones would kill him otherwise.
You can only watch as he straightens his back, turns around, takes a step towards the sink opposite to the bathtub, slams the cabinet shut again, and keeps his gaze purposefully low. His eyes remain glued to his hands as he washes them, as if he doesn’t dare to lift his chin.
“Let me help you with your shoulder,” you mumble softly and he almost can’t hear you over the running water and the running thoughts. It’s your gentle touch that makes him snap out of it, but even as he raises his head at last, his eyes only land on the reflection of you. Your face peeks out over his shoulder, one of your arms wrapped around his middle, the other hand ghosting over his blood-soaked sleeve.
“No need, ‘m fine,” he grumbles, stubborn as ever. But as he turns off the faucet, the movement reminds him of the sharp ache and the dull throb in his arm. Just the graze of the sheriff’s bullet. He knows he got lucky, but he also can’t bring himself to care about any of that with every other dreadful aspect of today.
“A couple of inches away from death doesn’t fit my definition of fine, Dean.”
He can’t argue with that, it would be hypocritical. A droplet of blood on your forehead is enough to make him worry and who is he to deny you your concerns when he’s been injured too? Besides, he knows you can see right through him. Physical injuries are one thing, but the emotional damage often runs deeper than any blade or gun could.
Though his muscles are stiff, Dean doesn’t resist as you slowly peel off his flannel. His eyes are still fixated on you. He can’t bring himself to look at the wound himself, much less let his gaze drift anywhere close to his own reflection right now.
Your movements are mesmerizing enough to keep him distracted anyway.
You reach around him to turn the faucet back on and you grab a washcloth. You tie your messy hair back and out of the way and you carefully roll up the short sleeve of his shirt. You dampen the cloth and wipe the blood from his arm. Once you disinfect the wound, he ultimately looks away. Not because of the sting of the rubbing alcohol, but because of the pain he recognizes in your eyes. Your brows knit together and you frown slightly, sighing to yourself.
He can’t bear watching you pity or fuss over him when part of him feels like he deserves this.
“C’mon, ’s not even that bad, sweetheart,” he grumbles, but his voice is strained.
Your movements come to a halt as you blink up at the mirror, expecting to see his green eyes look back at you through the reflection. But Dean’s head hangs low again and his hands grip onto the edge of the sink he’s staring into.
“I’m glad it’s not,” you hum, but you still grab ahold of his hands and pull him away from the sink. “Sit.”
When you say that word, it sounds a thousand times softer than when he did. You know he hadn’t huffed it at you earlier, but rather didn’t bother concealing his bad mood. Still, his annoyances aren’t directed at you, so he makes an effort to pull you closer gently, in apologetic fashion. His hands settle on your hips as he sits down on the edge of the tub. You’re standing between his legs, surgical thread and needle in your hand.
“Lift your arms f’me, babe?”
When Dean follows your instructions without a witty remark about how eager you are to get him to strip, you know the self loathing is bad. You help him peel off his shirt, tossing it straight into the laundry basket. Luckily there aren’t any other major injuries, though you suspect a couple of bruises will bloom by tomorrow.
His hands go back to your hips, as if he’s able to steady and ground himself by holding you, to which you have no complaints. As long as he’ll let you stitch him up, you even let his bolder touches slide. You’re so focused on closing up the wound that you barely react to his fingers curling around the back of your thighs.
With this position, Dean’s practically forced to face the mirror again. It’s right behind you and with the way you’re half bent over, leaning down to his arm, the view is without obstruction. But his attention is fixated on the jeans-cladded plush in his palms. His hands wander higher, fingers splaying out over your curves. He gives your ass a gentle squeeze to which your breath hitches.
“Careful, unless you want to end up looking like Frankenstein’s monster,” you chuckle playfully, relieved that he’s in high enough spirits for teasing touches.
“Since when are you not into the scarred badass guys?”
“Touché,” you smile in response, “Although I prefer them in a confident mood.”
He groans, knowing where this is going, but he decides to play along. “What d’ya mean?”
Your smile curls into a smug grin as you shrug. “I mean,” you sigh and finish the last stitch, securing the thread into a knot and setting the needle aside. “Scarred, badass guys are even hotter when they know that they’re strong,” you continue, before you plant a kiss to his forehead, “that they’re brave…” Another kiss, to his nose this time.
A quiet growl escapes him as he instinctively tightens his grip on your ass. You know he doesn’t fully believe your words, but you’re adamant about convincing him, so you continue with your list: “…heroic.” More kisses, this time a chaste one directly to his lips, though Dean scoffs and pulls away almost immediately.
“Yeah, right,” he scowls. “Nothing screams hero more than murdering someone.”
“You saved me tonight,” you argue back, whilst gently cupping his face. “You’re definitely my hero.”
His gaze wanders from your lips up to your eyes, seeing nothing but gratitude and adoration in them. Both of which he feels undeserving of. Dean Winchester isn’t half the hero you think he is, he’s all kinds of screwed and his fucked up life consists of violence and regret most of the time. Yet you always look at him as if there’s something worth looking at. Even when he can’t see it himself.
“Just doing my job,” he replies and his voice feels thick and wrong on his own tongue.
“No,” you huff, your thumbs tracing the sharp edge of his jaw, the scruff grazing against the pads of your fingers. “It’s not your job to look after me, or to fight evil. But you’re damn good at it and you do it to make the world a better place. Just like you did today.”
He raises a skeptical eyebrow at your words, since he’s not exactly sure how shortening the lifespan of a young man can possibly add any plus points to his karma. But he understands where you’re coming from, even if he can’t accept it fully just yet. He doesn’t regret pulling the trigger either, he’d do it again – in a heartbeat – if it meant keeping you alive. In that regard, what he did was the right thing, but that didn’t mean it was an easy thing.
“You did what you had to do, babe,” you sigh, tilting his face up a little again before he could avert his gaze once more.
You’d tell him that he shouldn’t beat himself up over it, but that would be like talking to a wall. Your reasoning tends to reach him better than the loving reassurances, even though you both know you’re right. Maybe that boy didn’t deserve to die, werewolf or not, but in that moment it was either him or you.
Your lips land on him once more, this time on his jaw, before they wander down the hollow of his throat. Dean welcomes the sensation of your mouth on his neck, your teeth against his collarbones. Your hands on his chest, warm and soft and eager. So eager to make him feel good, to prove to him his own worth.
Your fingers are always enough to make his walls crumble. The sweet nothings you whisper to his ear always suffice. It might not heal him entirely, but his doubts are soothed for the moment whenever you need him. Whenever you give him what he needs. Whenever you love him.
Your hands reach the waistband of his denim pants, against which his cock is already beginning to strain. Once your touch ghosts over the prominent bulge, he snaps and indulges. In one swift movement, he stands up, his hands still tight on your hips as he picks you up and carries you to the sink. Within a second you find yourself positioned on the bathroom counter, your back nearly bumping against the mirror behind you and your legs draped around Dean’s waist. You’d complain about how he should be careful, lest he wants the fresh stitches to rip open, but your protest dies on Dean’s tongue, which he has already slipped past your lips.
Dean kisses you hard and with purpose, as if wanting to repay your praises. Where your mouth works its magic through words, he has always known different ways to use his. Always a man of actions, your boyfriend. His lips wander down your neck, making you gasp in delight.
He grunts, dizzy with the taste of you, your scent, your voice. You’re so soft under his calloused hands that he’s reminded once more of how close he was to losing you tonight. His impatient hands pull your shirt up over your chest, where his lips latch onto. He doesn’t even bother pulling it over your head fully, eager to search your heartbeat with his tongue, as if he’s able to taste that you’re still alive that way.
While you’re busy discarding your shirt properly, Dean’s mouth finds your nipple through the lace of your bra. You arch your back into his touch further, his name falling from your lips in a whimper that almost has his brain short-circuit.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gruffs and pulls you off the counter, turning you in his arms so you’d face the mirror. His low voice is gravelly and half muffled by the column of your neck, which he still works some hickeys into. “Always treating me like some kind of hero when you’re the one keeping me alive and sane.”
His bare chest is pressed flush against your back and your hips are lodged against the edge of the sink, to which your shaky fingers grip so tightly that your knuckles turn white. You whimper again, softly, as you feel him rock his hips against your ass. Were it not for his large hands around you, one on your waist, the other cupping your breast, your knees would give out and you’d topple over.
Dean shoves a little harsher, his chest still flat against your back as he pushes you closer to the mirror. It’s fogging up slightly with how heavily you’re panting against the glass. Your eyes meet through the reflection and he finds himself not minding the mirror so long as you’re in the picture as well.
The bandaid that used to roughly match your skin color earlier now sticks out against your flushed face, red and warm all the way down to your neck and even your chest. Your lips are kiss-bitten, puffy and slightly parted as your ragged breath is interrupted by little mewls and whines.
Most days Dean’s looks in the mirror and hates what he sees. But he could get used to this view. At least he can appreciate the sight of his own hands on you, one around your throat, the other between your thighs, making you unravel, being held by yours as you reach for his wrists.
“Maybe scratch the sane part, you know you’re driving me crazy,” he revises his earlier statement as his deft fingers make quick work of your jean’s button and fly. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear and you shudder as he watches every small reaction of yours closely, like a hawk.
He shoves his hand straight into your underwear, satisfied when his fingers find your slick and his ears pick up on the meek moan. He’s barely even touched you yet, but you’re already soaking. You’re so damn responsive it almost makes him want to rip both your pants off and just take you until you’ll see stars. While patience is a virtue, it’s not Dean’s strong suit – yet he wants to take his time with you.
“Always taking such good care of me,” he whispers roughly, gently pinching your clit between his middle and ring finger. “My turn making my girl feel good.”
Using your previous methods on you now, he presses a soft kiss to your temple. His lips brush right against the edge of your bandaid. “My pretty girl,” he breathes, before his mouth wanders to your cheek, where he places another kiss.
“My smart girl, always using her pretty head to keep us alive.” God knows his words are true – your quick thinking and ability to stay level headed has saved the both of you out of dangerous situations more times than he can count.
One of his fingertips slips past your entrance, causing you to overhear whatever he adds to the list of compliments. You’re too distracted by the digit sinking deeper into your cunt with little resistance.
Your blush deepens further, fingers curling around the sink’s ceramic. Your eyelashes flutter and your eyes threaten to close, but Dean prevents your head from dropping low with a gentle nudge of his hand. His fingers tighten around your throat, firm enough to make you redirect your focus, but not enough to squeeze your windpipes, let alone hurt you in any way.
“Eyes on the mirror, doll,” he hums against your jaw. “Would be a shame if you were t’miss out on the show, huh? Look how pretty you are f’me, princess, all sensitive and needy.”
You squirm and whimper, struggling to follow his order with how he’s making your head spin. He’s not playing fair. How’re you supposed to focus on anything except him adding another finger to pump in and out of your cunt?
“Dean, please,” you moan, desperately trying to wiggle your hips. You aren’t even sure what it is you’re begging for, exactly. More of him. All of him. Not like you can’t already feel him throb against the curve of your ass.
“Wanna see you cum on my fingers first, baby,” he mumbles, nearly slurring over his own words. But the hand around your throat loosens its grip and he already moves it down to pull your pants lower. “Know you’re almost there, can feel you squeezing the shit out of my fingers.”
You half groan half sob, beyond flustered, but too far gone to argue back. Your legs are already shaking thanks to his fingers thrusting in and out of you and your breathing becomes more ragged with each intake of oxygen. You attempt to throw him a pleading glance through the mirror, but all you can see is your own messy state. Your gaze briefly flickers down, watching his thumb circle your clit in the reflection. However, your eyes are forced back up as Dean’s free hand winds up in your hair and pulls your head back until it’s settled against his uninjured shoulder.
“Eyes up here,” he quips and you’d want to wipe that smug smirk off his lips, were it not for his fingers curling inside of you and pushing you over the edge at last. Your mouth falls open and you cry out as liquid heat rushes through every fiber of your body. You see your own reflection, expression twisted into pleasure and bliss as your orgasm washes over you and you clamp down on Dean’s fingers. Your grip tightens around his wrist, which doesn’t stop him from guiding you through the ecstasy.
“So good for me,” Dean praises, or you think that’s what you hear in your hazy state. You’re still trying to catch your breath as he withdraws his hands from between your now sticky thighs. He brings it up to his mouth, giving his fingers a brief lick. You shudder in awe watching him. His pupils are blown wide, glistening tongue peeking out from those plump lips of his.
But he changes his mind at the last second.
“Not done with you yet, sweetheart,” he whispers and presses his fingers against your lips. You obediently open your mouth for him, welcoming his fingers in, though you flush more as you taste yourself on his skin.
Your walls flutter and clench around nothing just at that, but you have a feeling he’s about to do something about the empty feeling. He smirks knowingly, his cheek pressed against yours, your faces in the mirror side by side.
“Think I should show you how pretty you look taking my cock? I swear, it feels unfair that I’m always the only one who gets to enjoy the show.”
credit & links: ao3 ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment a green heart 💚 to be added to the dean x reader taglist (please note: ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts)
@winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126 @zepskies @hot-and-confused
@spookyfunhottub @calibootsgirl
#chevroletdean writes#chevroletdean‘s kinktober#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#supernatural x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x you#supernatural x you#spn x reader#dean angst#dean smut#spnsc#spnangst#spnsmut#dean sc#scenario#kinktober#dividers by inklore
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Not Interested (Jasper Whitlock x M! Reader)
Summary: You never understood the hype over the Cullen family. Sure, they were beautiful, but didn’t anyone at school have enough common sense to notice something was off? Too bad a certain empath is smitten with you and merely finds your open disdain entertaining.
tags: perceptive reader, Jasper is smitten, isn't character canon nor resembles his original description, human reader, reader is a hothead and unfiltered, creative liberties with Jasper
You never understood the hype over the Cullen family. Sure, they were beautiful, but didn’t anyone at school have enough common sense to notice something was off? They looked like marble statues—flawlessly sculpted but lifeless, almost artificial. And then there were their mannerisms, too controlled to be teenagers. It was all a bit too uncanny for your liking.
Jasper Hale was no exception. Out of all of them, he seemed like the biggest walking red flag. He wasn’t an asshole, exactly, but his whole demeanor screamed danger. Every time you glanced his way, he was as stiff as a board, eyes unblinking and hands clenched into fists beneath the table, like he was holding himself back from doing something. There was a reason people said he was the second most unapproachable Cullen, with Rosalie taking the number one spot. Yet, despite his apparent hatred for people, he seemed determined to catch your attention.
He'd linger by your locker, his eyes burning a hole in your back. When you snapped at him to get lost, he didn’t flinch. He smiled. HE FUCKING SMILED LIKE YOU WERE A KITTEN THROWING A TANTRUM. In class, he'd try to strike up a conversation, blatantly ignoring your clipped and cold responses with a patience only a saint could have. Not only did you notice this, but the whole school did, too. Jasper’s odd behavior had quickly become a hot topic.
Jessica, damn her soul, was at the head of the rumor mill, spinning far-fetched stories about you and Jasper being secret lovers. If punching someone—much less a girl—wouldn’t get you expelled or possibly arrested, Jessica would have been target number one. You tried to keep your anger in check, especially when the whole school (students and staff alike) kept staring at you and Jasper like you were part of some soap opera. But one rumor, in particular, pushed you over the edge.
“I’m not a sugar baby!” you hissed at Jessica when she tried to strike up a conversation about the nonexistent gifts Jasper was supposedly giving you. “What bullshit gave you that idea?”
“He gave you a pencil—”
“Oh, fuck off and shove that pencil—” You couldn’t finish that thought as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and the beginning of fourth period. Jessica just waved goodbye and scurried off, knowing your temper wouldn’t be stopped by a bell. Huffing, you made your way to history class, where, lo and behold, Jasper was already seated, a grin on his face.
As the class dragged on, you couldn’t keep ignoring Jasper or the hushed whispers of the other students. His grin never faltered, and neither did the feeling of his gaze burning into you.
Screw it.
Without waiting for the teacher to finish his lecture on some historical battle you couldn’t care less about, you stood up abruptly.
“Out,” you muttered, grabbing Jasper by the arm with a grip that brooked no argument. Jasper, taken aback, allowed you to drag him to his feet. A low murmur rippled through the class, but you didn’t care. You were done playing around.
You hauled him out of the classroom, ignoring the teacher’s confused calls after you, and pulled him down the hallway to the nearest janitor's closet. You shoved the door open, pushed him inside, and slammed it shut behind you. The tiny space was dimly lit and filled with the scent of cleaning supplies, but you didn’t let the cramped quarters intimidate you. Instead, you crowded Jasper back against a shelf, glaring up at him.
“Alright, Hale,” you snapped, eyes blazing. “I’m sick of the staring, the lurking, and the creepy smiles. What's your deal? Are you trying to get under my skin, or are you just that bored?”
For a moment, Jasper didn’t respond. Then, slowly, that infuriatingly calm smile spread across his lips. “You know,” he drawled, his voice like honey dripping off a knife, “for someone who claims not to care, you seem awfully worked up about it.”
“Cut the crap,” you growled, slamming your palm against the shelf beside his head. “You’ve been following me around like some kind of deranged puppy, and I want to know why. And don’t you dare feed me some bullshit line about coincidence.”
Jasper’s smile faded, and for a moment, his eyes flickered with something darker, something almost… amused. “Maybe some of the rumors are true,” he admitted, his voice low but steady. “Maybe I do want to get to know you better.”
The words hung in the air, surprising you. You’d expected deflection, but this was something else. You narrowed your eyes. “Get to know me?” you echoed. “And what exactly does that mean?”
“It means,” Jasper continued, his gaze meeting yours head-on, “that you’re different from the others. You don’t fawn over us like we’re gods, and you’re not afraid to speak your mind. It’s… refreshing.”
You snorted. “So, what? You think acting like a creep is the way to get my attention? Newsflash, Hale: it’s not working.”
His lips twitched, almost like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “It got you to drag me in here, didn’t it?”
That did it. You reached out, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him closer, your faces mere inches apart. “Listen to me,” you said, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. “If you want to know me, try acting like a normal person instead of some stalker freak. Got it?”
Jasper didn't reply immediately, just stared at you before his gaze briefly flicked to your lips. “Got it,” he murmured, a reverent expression crossing his face that confused the hell out of you. You let go of him, expecting him to step back, but he didn’t. He stayed right where he was, not seeming at all bothered by the confined space or your proximity. “Just so we’re clear,” he added softly, “I’m not giving up. I’m still going to try to get to know you, whether you like it or not.”
Feeling a mix of frustration and something you didn’t want to name, you turned around and opened the door. “Fine, but try anything like this again, and I won’t be so nice.”
Jasper chuckled, that damn smile creeping back onto his face. “Deal, but somehow, I think you like a little chaos.”
You rolled your eyes. “Let’s get back to class, Hale.” you grumbled, stepping out into the hallway. But as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on your back—a challenge silently hanging in the air between you.
#x male reader#male reader#the twilight saga#twilight#bella swan#edward cullen#rosalie hale#alice cullen#carlisle cullen#jasper whitlock#jasper hale#jasper cullen#emmett cullen#forks washington#carlisle#caius#edward#the cullens#charlie swan#twilight saga#esme cullen#emmett#rosalie twilight#rosalie cullen#bella#alice#isabella swan#cullen#the volturi#aro volturi
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— 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟
★ soft!lover!wanderer x shy!reader requested by @dobadoo
★ I don't actually remember the specific request that was sent in, but the reader was supposed to be more innocent and naive with scaramouche being more cold and distant, so hopefully I got that right lmaoo enjoy!
★ disclaimer: you and wanderer are in an established relationship and there's definitely a lot of physical touch, Wanderer's also more of a soft yandere here.
A gift from the heavens, an angel amidst lowlives, perhaps even a miracle, was his precious flower. He couldn’t help but admire the way rays of morning sunlight danced over the slopes and curves of your body as you slept. If only his creator had installed a lens inside his eyes that’d allow him to photograph this moment, bury it somewhere deep inside him beside the remnants of his past selves. And to think other people would’ve been able to see you like this had he not sunk his claws into your heart first and foremost…no, no that wouldn’t do.
Luckily, you stirred before your lover could conjure yet another fictional scenario to get angry over. “Go back to sleep, flower.” Wanderer murmured, the tips of his ball-jointed fingers gliding over the line of your brows to brush away any sleep-tousled hairs from your bleary eyes. You looked so lovely like this, just barely rousing from sleep to the sight of him sitting up in bed with those piercing eyes staring down at you- calculating, almost cold had it not been for the way your warmth melted the ice around his heart.
“What time is it?” You mumbled, rolling onto your side and then slumping forward with a groan. His hand naturally found its way to your back, briefly tracing the line of your spine up to your nape- bare skin compared to where his electro sigil remained etched into his skin as a permanent reminder of what was meant to be his legacy. “Hey, you’re-...you’re staring, stop that…” He could only smirk, feeling the warmth of your skin nearly double as blood rushed to your face in embarrassment under his wordless stare.
“It’s early. And it’s not like you’re stopping me, quit your whining.” Cold fingers trace around your neck when he tilted his head to find your eyes with his own, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. A sweet gesture, though like everything he did, calculated. Each pass of his hands on your skin, each smile you gifted him, he absorbed your light like darkness. Your stars to be lost in his skies. You’d never have to worry, of course, not when he took such good care of you. From the first day you stumbled into him, in disarray and a flurry of apologies over tripping into him or something- he couldn’t quite remember what you said, not when he was so entranced by how alive you were. His personal sunshine for skin damned to run cold.
Similarly, it was his detached demeanor that drew you closer to the puppet. Like smoldering embers, a flame dormant- just waiting for a spark to render it alive again. “You look like a mess.” He snorted, tugging at the wrinkled fabric of your sleepwear. In retort, a huff left your lips as you grabbed his shirt and tugged him backwards- an uncharacteristically bold move from his sweetheart of a lover.
“And you look pristine. Something you wanna tell me, mister?” Came your playful chiding, knowing that he rarely slept. Sleep to you was necessary- to him, it was an excuse to lay with you.
“Careful,” Wanderer scoffed, his whole hand laid over your giggling face and pushing you back onto the bed. “You’ve gotten a bit too cheeky as of late.” He griped, scowling with his arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t tell me I’m already influencing you?”
When you only bashfully smiled and shrugged where you lay, the blankets enshrouded about your bodies like clouds, the frown lines about his lips softened. With an exaggerated sigh, the former harbinger lay beside you and dragged you by the head to lay on his shoulder. “Fine. We’ll rest an hour more, but that’s it.” He begrudgingly speaks, as if it wasn’t his idea.
And as you slowly fall back asleep, overheating the bedsheets with your warmth while his cold body cools you back down, he stares up at the ceiling with a lazy smirk. All this song and dance to keep you under his control when it was plainly obvious that it was you who had the lone wanderer wrapped around your pretty little finger.
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Word Count: 626
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅
- Ky♡♡
#ngl this one was harder to write but I DID IT so sorry about the wait haha#kywrites#wanderer hcs#wanderer genshin#genshin fluff#genshin x gn reader#genshin hcs#scaramouche fluff#scaramouche hcs#scaramouche x reader#genshin x reader#tried to make it mitski's my love mine all mine coded lowk#also wtf do y'all call wanderer??#it's hard to use scara or kuni anymore
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