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r0ugesun · 5 months ago

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"i'm the prince regent, not a dog to be called to heel" yeah alright give me 5 minutes with him and he'll be bending the knee to me like?

and why is Aemond acting so bratty? pouting, crunching up paper, throwing tantrums, crying when he doesn't get his way? everyone in the latest episode literally said that there's there's no telling what he'll do and how unpredictable is next 'outrage' is (in his words...) like all this broken boy needs is some wax play, to be slapped around here or there, be made to sob or cry by reader, overstimulated (not edged, considering we know how annoyed this mans can get), have a 'mother's touch' (mommy kink) and be punished as the 'bad boy' he's been or be sat on by reader turning pussy drunk and he'll go back to 'normal'?

Me personally I would put him in a cage and put a blanket over it when he misbehaved 🙂‍↕️

Anyway ilysm for the idea anon hope u enjoy 😽

Synopsis: Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen's tantrums have pushed the courtiers to their limit. Only y/n can handle his defiance, using firm discipline and control to tame him. Through a night of punishment and domination, y/n pushes Aemond to the brink, teaching him to submit and find solace in her authority.

Warnings: Smut Dom/sub Dynamics Wax Play impact Play (Slapping) Overstimulation Brat Taming Bondage (Hands Tied) Mild Pain Play dacryphilia if u squint.

Sub!Aemond x Dom!Reader

The night was still and heavy with tension.

Within the grand chambers of the Red Keep, Aemond sat alone, frustration evident in every line of his body. His once tidy room was in disarray, filled with torn parchments and overturned furniture, a testament to the storm brewing within him.

You had been summoned earlier in the evening, whispers of the prince regent's tantrums reaching your ears. The small council were at a loss, their fear of his unpredictable outbursts leaving them paralyzed. But you were different. You understood what he needed, even if he didn't.

Taking a deep breath, you approached his door and knocked. There was no response, only the muffled sounds of pacing and the occasional muttered curse. You entered without waiting for permission, your presence immediately drawing his attention.

"Aemond" you began gently, your tone calm and soothing, "what's going on?"

He didn't even look at you, his eye fixed on some indeterminate spot on the wall.

"Nothing" he snapped, the word sharp and cutting.

You sighed, moving closer. "This doesn't look like nothing" you said, gesturing to the chaos around him. "You need to talk to me."

"I don't need to do anything" he retorted, finally turning to face you, his eye blazing with defiance. "You're not my keeper."

"No" you agreed, keeping your voice steady.

"But I care about you. And right now, you're acting like a child."

His reaction was immediate and explosive.

"I'm the prince regent!" he shouted, his face contorting with anger.

You could feel your patience wearing thin.

"Aemond, please," you said, trying to remain composed. "Just talk to me. Let me help you."

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You think you can help me? You're nothing but a-"

"Enough!" you snapped, your own frustration boiling over. You took a step forward, your eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made him flinch. "You need to stop this, right now."

He opened his mouth to retort, but you didn't give him the chance. You slapped him, hard, the sound echoing through the room.

His head snapped to the side, and for a moment, there was silence.

When he looked back at you, his eye was wide, and there were tears forming at the corners. "How dare you" he whispered, his voice trembling.

You pushed him, not hard, but enough to make him stumble back onto the bed. He sat there, staring up at you with a mixture of shock and something else - something vulnerable.

"You're being a bad boy, Aemond" you said, your voice firm and unyielding. "And bad boys need to be punished."

His breath hitched, and he hesitated, clearly torn between his pride and the need for the release only you could offer. "I don't-"

"Yes, you do" you interrupted, leaning down so your face was inches from his. "You need this, Aemond. You need someone to take control. To show you your place."

He swallowed hard, his defiance wavering.

"But-"

"No buts" you said sharply. "You're going to listen to me, and you're going to do as I say."

For a long moment, he said nothing, just stared up at you with his teary eye. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Alright" he whispered.

You straightened, a sense of relief washing over you. "Good" you said softly. "Now, stand up."

He obeyed, rising to his feet with a grace that belied his inner turmoil. You walked around him, your hand trailing over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. "From now on, you will listen to me"

you said, your voice low and commanding. "Do you understand?"

"Yes" he replied, his voice barely audible.

You stopped in front of him, looking up into his face. "Good. Because tonight, you are not the prince regent. You are mine."

He shivered at your words, but didn't protest. You began to undress him, your movements slow and deliberate, your touch both soothing and arousing. His breath hitched with each piece of clothing you removed, his vulnerability laid bare before you.

When he was finally naked, you took a step back, letting your eyes roam over his body.

He was beautiful, his skin marred by scars that told the story of his battles, his muscles taut with anticipation. But it was his face that drew you in — the mixture of fear and longing in his eye, the way his lips trembled as he waited for your next move.

You reached for the candle on the bedside table, letting a few drops of hot wax fall onto his chest. He gasped, his body tensing, but you soothed him with gentle caresses and soft words. "Shh," you murmured. "It's just a little pain. You can handle it."

He nodded, his eye never leaving yours as you continued your sensual torment. The combination of pain and pleasure seemed to unravel him, each drop of wax followed by a tender kiss that left him craving more.

When you were satisfied that he was sufficiently pliant, you moved to straddle him, positioning yourself over his straining cock. "Now" you said firmly, "I'm going to show you what it means to be truly overwhelmed."

You moved away slightly, still hovering over him, your eyes locking onto his. "Put your hands behind your back," you commanded, your voice firm.

Aemond hesitated, a flicker of defiance crossing his face. "Why?"

You raised an eyebrow, your tone becoming even more authoritative. "Because bad boys don't get to touch. Now, do as you're told."

He swallowed hard, the struggle between his pride and his need for you evident in his eye.

Slowly, he obeyed, bringing his arms behind his back and clasping his hands together.

His muscles tensed, the vulnerability of his position sending a shiver through him.

You leaned down, your breath ghosting over his ear. "Good boy" you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "Now, stay like that."

Positioning yourself above him, you guided his cock to your entrance, teasing him with the promise of pleasure.

His breath hitched as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, the sensation almost overwhelming in its intensity. His hips twitched, instinctively trying to thrust up into you, but you pressed a hand to his chest holding him still.

You began to ride him, your movements slow and deliberate, driving him to the brink of madness. He moaned beneath you, his hands gripping the sheets behind him as he struggled to maintain control.

But you were relentless, pushing him further and further until he was begging for release.

"Ah, ah," you chided softly. "No moving. Just feel." He let out a shuddering breath, his eye squeezing shut. His cock throbbed inside you, the overstimulation making every touch feel electric.

Aemond's fingers clenched behind his back, the urge to reach out and touch you almost unbearable. "Please," he gasped, his voice strained. "Let me touch you."

You shook your head, increasing your pace slightly. "No" you said firmly. "This is your punishment. You don't get to touch."

He groaned, his body straining against the restraint you imposed. The pleasure was almost too, his cock pulsing with need as you rode him.

The denial of his desire to touch you only heightened his arousal, his entire body on edge.

Your movements became more urgent, the slick sound of your bodies joining filling the room. Each thrust pushed him closer to the edge, the pleasure-pain driving him wild.

"Fuck," he whimper

his voice breaking. "Please,"

"Please, I can't take it anymore."

You leaned down, your lips brushing his ear.

"That's the point," you whispered. "You're not in control anymore. I am."

With that, you pushed him over the edge, his body convulsing as he came hard, his cries echoing through the room. You didn't stop, though, continuing to ride him Aemond with unrelenting fervor, each thrust driving him deeper into a state of overstimulation. His body trembles beneath you, muscles taut with a mixture of pleasure and pain. His cock, still sensitive from his previous orgasm, throbs inside you, the sensation almost too much for him to bear.

Tears stream down his face, pooling in the corner of his one eye and making it glisten beautifully in the dim light of the chamber.

His breathing is ragged, each gasp punctuated by a choked sob. The sight of him crying, so vulnerable and at your mercy, only spurs you on.

“Such a pretty boy when you cry” you cooed.

"Please," he whimpers, his voice cracking.

"It's too much."

You lean down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, "You're doing so well, Aemond, my sweet boy. Just a little more."

His tears fall freely now, tracing a path down his cheeks. The sight of his tear-streaked face, with his eye so vividly expressive, is a mesmerizing contrast to his usual stoic demeanor. It's a raw, unguarded moment that shows the depth of his submission to you.

Finally, you slowed, your movements gentle as you brought him down from his high. He looked up at you with a wide, dazed eye, his breathing heavy.

You smiled down at Aemond, his breath ragged and uneven. His vulnerability was laid bare before you, and you knew exactly how to remind him of his place.

"You know," you said softly, your voice dripping with a mix of tenderness and command, "your mouth has been causing quite a bit of trouble tonight."

He looked up at you, confusion mingled with the remnants of his arousal. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

You didn't answer with words. Instead, you shifted, positioning yourself above his face, your knees on either side of his head. His eye widened in realization, a flicker of both anticipation and apprehension crossing his teatures.

"Your mouth is for eating my cunt, not mouthing off" you said hissed, lowering yourself onto him. The heat of your core met his lips, and he instinctively opened his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste you.

You let out a soft moan, the sensation of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sending a jolt of pleasure through you. But you weren't in the mood for gentleness. You needed to remind him of his place.

With a swift movement, you pressed down harder, your hips grinding against his face.

Aemond's muffled groan vibrated against your clit, the sensation almost too much. His hands, still bound behind his back, twitched as he tried to steady himself.

"Don't stop" you commanded, your voice breathy with arousal. "You know what to do."

He obeyed, his tongue working with renewed fervor, desperate to please you. His mouth moved against you, each stroke and flick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through your body.

You rode his face with a demanding rhythm, your hips grinding down harshly, making it clear that you were in control.

Aemond's breath came in short, hot bursts against your core, his desperation palpable.

His tongue moved faster, more insistently, as if trying to make up for his earlier insolence.

Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the silver strands and tugging slightly, eliciting a muffled whimper from him.

"That's it," you purred, your hips rocking against his mouth. "You know your place now, don't you?"

He nodded as best as he could, his eye squeezed shut as he focused entirely on pleasuring you. The intensity of his efforts drove you higher, each stroke of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge.

Your breath hitched, your body trembling with the buildup of your impending climax.

The sensation was almost overwhelming, the pleasure mingling with the power you held over him. You rode his face harder, your moans growing louder as you neared your release.

When it finally hit, it was like a tidal wave crashing over you. Your body convulsed, your hips grinding down against his face as you cried out in ecstasy. Aemond's mouth continued to work, his tongue lapping up every drop of your arousal, prolonging your pleasure until you were spent and trembling.

You leaned down, your lips brushing his forehead. "Good boy" you murmured. "Now, do you understand? You're mine."

He nodded weakly, his body spent and his mind utterly surrendered. "Yes" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Yours."

You smiled, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

"That's right" you said softly. "Now, rest. My sweet boy."

As you settled beside him, pulling him into your arms, you soothed him with kisses to his cheek and soft caresses, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. You had tamed the storm within him, if only for a night. And in doing so, you had found a way to connect with the man behind the title, the boy who needed to be loved and cared for.

Aemond snuggled closer, his body seeking the comfort and warmth you offered. "Thank you” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

You kissed the top of his head, your fingers gently stroking his hair.

"You're welcome," you whispered. "Sleep now. Tomorrow is another day, and we'll face it together.”

With that, he drifted off to sleep, his breath evening out as he finally found peace in your arms. And as you watched over him, you knew that this was just the beginning.

Aemond Targaryen might be the prince regent, but in your arms, he was simply Aemond - a man who needed to be loved, cherished, and, occasionally, put in his place.

And you were more than willing to be the one to do it.

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mariasont · 8 months ago

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THE BIMBO RECEPTIONIST WAS SO CUTE

now id like to introduce, goth/metalhead!bimbo!reader x spence ( more of the opposites attract vibe )

super dark clothes and jewelry and looks like elvira a little bit, maybe a few piercings and tattoos for spencer to oogle at

Brooding - S.R

a/n: EEK i hope u love this as much as i loved writing it :)

bimbo reader has my heart <3

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x goth!bimbo!reader

warnings: mmm none! fluff! just two cuties being cute!

wc: 0.6k

Your pen was a flurry of motion, streaking bold lines upon the sketchpad. Technically, you should be sorting through the endless stack of files, keeping them pristine and accessible for the agents. You were always ahead of your tasks, and this job, while not earth-shattering, mattered to you. But when you had a muse as captivating as yours, it was hard to put the pen down.

That muse being the man rifling through the files before you, his face a masterpiece of pretty lines and angles, unaware of the intensity of your focus. You contemplated expressing your admiration aloud, but the idea seemed a little too forward. So, you poured that impulse into a portrait, tracing the contours of his handsome face.

But it proved difficult to accomplish with his relentless pacing. Each step he took sparked another round of redos on the pad. Your tongue, tipped with a silver piercing, unconsciously found its way to your lip as you wrestled with the proportions of his nose, erasing furiously to get it just right.

You let out a sigh, louder than intended, and it was enough to pause his steps. "Sir, can you please stand still?"

He looked utterly baffled, lifting his brows toward his hairline. As your eyes met, he pointed to his chest, his question simple and unsure, "Huh? Me?"

A quick nod sent a ribbon of dyed hair fluttering before your eyes as you beamed at him. "Yes, you! Please, if you don't mind," you murmured, your fingers racing over the paper. "I just need, like, one more second."

He stood frozen, brows remaining quizzically raised. Why he complied, he couldn't say, but the sight of you, so engrossed in your art, your necklaces chiming in time with your movements, and how your bold makeup seemed to frame your face perfectly kept him rooted to the spot.

You peered up through your lashes, giving him a sheepish grin, cheeks lightly flushed as you set the pen down.

"All done! You're free to go. Thanks for being so patient," you chirped, gently waving the paper in the air as if to dry the ink faster.

"Can I at least see the result of my patience?" Spencer asked, his approach casual yet expectant.

You hugged the sketchpad to your chest, a gentle laugh escaping you. "Well, I don't usually just let anyone see my work, especially strangers."

Spencer's smile was tinged with amusement.

"Considering I'm the subject, I think I have some claim to it," he joked. "And by the way, I'm Spencer Reid. There, we're practically acquaintances now."

You couldn't contain the goofy grin that spread across your face, and a giggle bubbled up from your throat.

"Well, since you put it that way, I suppose I can make an exception," you said, drawing out the last word with a wink.

The portrait made Spencer do a double-take--it was him, but as if seen through a gothic, moody lens. His usual composure cracked, and a deep, genuine laugh broke through.

"I never knew I had such a brooding side," he commented with a smile. "I look like I stepped out of a Brontë novel. Perhaps Heathcliff on one of his better days?"

Your head cocked to the side, hair cascading over one shoulder, looking at him through lashes heavy with mascara as you shrugged.

"Heathcliff, huh? I'll take your word for it, but I get the brooding part," you said, with a bubbly laugh. "Come on, it's so you."

Spencer fiddled with his tie, raising a brow.

"I'm not sure if I should be flattered or concerned," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he felt a pleasant heat rise to his cheeks.

You squinted sightly, pretending to mull it over.

"Flattered, for sure," you said. "Broody types are just secretly plotting world domination, right?"

He grinned. "Well, maybe not world domination, but certainly plotting something."

Your voice was light, but your question was pointed. "So, what are you plotting, Spencer? Should I be worried?"

He tried to remember what Morgan had taught him.

"Absolutely. But some things are worth the wait--patience, you'll see, can be quite rewarding."

And with a promise like that, you found yourself more than willing to wait.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x goth reader #spencer reid x bimbo reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic

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cheolhub · 1 year ago

Text

MEANT TO BE YOURS — JEON WONWOO ࿐

summary. lying to your boyfriend about being sexually experienced has you stressed beyond belief. it’s a good thing your roommate— aka your best friend— is always there to help you out of every sticky situation.

wc. 7.2k+

warnings. [PLEASE READ THESE!] slight yandere themes (tame obsession, possessiveness, mentions of k1lling reader’s bf, etc.), corruption kink, virginity loss, f. masturbation, cheating (don’t do this), perv!wonu, NEEDY, DESPERATE dom!wonwoo, fingering, heavy praise, pet names (a lot ^^), very light degradation, so much dirty talk (literal filth), unprotected sex, size kink (if u blink, u miss it), kinda angsty ending (oops) — MINORS DNI 18+

note. ok so it’s finally here :p a few things— happy birthday wonwoo, my beloved <3 thank u keir @jeonghantis for reading this over for me, always reassuring me and being my literal rock. i luv u so so much ^^ lastly, this contains cheating which i do NOT condone, nor do i want to glamorize it. it’s simply for the sake of the plot. oj that’s all <3 i worked hard so pls enjoy it >< (if u dont, u should just lie to me anyway)

you were perfect. so sweet and so innocent. you were a doll in the eyes of wonwoo, with skin so smooth against his calloused hands and a smile so perfect, he can’t help but melt at the sight of it.

his adoration for you was obviously in moderation, he’s a sensible man after all. it’s not like he’d stand over you while you sleep and watch the way your barely-clothed chest rises up and falls down so enticingly or fuck his fist and imagine it’s your tight-virgin cunt milking him for all he’s worth or steal a pair of lace panties and absolutely ruin them. you’re his best friend not to mention his roommate. he can’t do things like that— it’s wrong.

so why does it feel so fucking good to imagine how sweet your moans would sound while he fucks you senseless, “wonwoo! wonwoo!”

wonwoo maintains his cool even in the most unfavorable moments. when you leave your shared bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around your chest, when you walk around in silky night shorts, when you press your tits flush against him every time you give him a hug— it’s too much sometimes.

he can't be angry, though, it’s not like you know any better.

just like how you don't know how loud you’re being when you have one dainty little finger shoved inside your sopping pussy. he watches through the tiny crack of your door with his bottom lip lodged between his teeth, just slight of drawing blood. he sees how your eyes are screwed shut and your back is arched as you inconsistently try to fuck a single finger in and out of you.

the room is filled with desperate huffs and moans, bouncing between the four walls of his old gaming room; it all rushes straight to wonwoo’s cock.

you sound so needy and he can tell you’re growing frustrated at the lack of results. you’re craving release, he can tell–

and he wants to help you. so bad.

he has to, right? that’s his job as a dutiful best friend— taking care of his pretty girl. plus, it’s not like he’s really doing anything wrong. he likes to think he’s just doing you a huge favor.

he steps away from the door before knocking quietly, hearing the halt in moans and jostling of the white bedsheets he’s memorized the scent of. he stifles a laugh, imagining how hot your face must be knowing that you’re easily flustered.

“just a second!” you pant and he’s so caught up in thought that he almost misses your soft voice, “okay…you can come in.” it’s as if you’re embarrassed, but you have no reason to be. it’s just him, your roommate. your best friend. your wonwoo.

he finds that he was right. as soon as he walked in, he noticed your embarrassed face and he could almost feel the heat radiating from your body.

“won?”

his cock throbs in his loose plaid pajama pants at the name you had given him ages ago. “Y/N, i-i just wanted to check on you… heard noises when i was passing by your room,”

“oh…” you mumble, gripping the comforter covering your body. you’re sheepish, shrugging at his concern. “thought you were out with gyu.”

your words are barely audible. you’re too humiliated to tell him what you were doing and, not to mention, how you were probably, most likely doing it incorrectly.

“nah,” he shakes his head, reverting the conversation back to the massive elephant in the room. “anything on your mind?” he tries, moving to sit on the bed next to you.

you sigh, cracking the unfazed facade you wore. tears form on your lash line; you’re beyond embarrassed. mortified, if you will. this is probably the worst possible thing to happen in all your years of living.

no, this is the worst thing to happen to you in all your years of living– nothing will ever beat you getting caught masturbating incorrectly by your best friend.

“wonwoo…” you sniffle and he immediately stiffens at the unanticipated sound. “i just… my… boyfriend wants to start doing stuff with me and i lied ‘n told him that i’ve done stuff before, but i haven’t ‘n—“

“hey…breathe, Y/N,” he shushes, reaching over to wipe the tears from your eyes. as much as he’s concerned with your feelings, he can’t help but pause—boyfriend? since when did you have a fucking boyfriend? he knew you were going on dates and meeting guys, and of course he didn’t like it, but he thought they were flings that would eventually fizzle out. why wasn’t he aware of this dick? his chest bubbles with newfound jealousy and discontent. without a doubt, he’d kill the first ill-mannered fucker he saw put his hands on you.

however, he plays dumb to hide the fact. “what type of stuff are we talking about?”

you bite back a whine, a small pout forming on your face, “you know what stuff, won, don’t make me say it.”

he chuckles, airily, shaking his head. yes, of course he knows, but he wants to hear you say it. wants to hear you say filthy things with your innocent voice that he simply can’t get enough of. “i don’t know what you’re going on about. for all i know, we could be talking about drugs,”

you let out a giggle, playfully smacking his shoulder. “no!” you tell him and he gives you an expectant look. one that screams tell me.

your laughter dies down and you fall silent for a few seconds. you inhale sharply, “wonwoo… he… he wants to have sex with me,” you mutter, completely catching him off guard. “and i lied about having experience… i’ve never even touched myself,” you say unwarranted, feeling your cheeks heat up in mortification once again. you hide your face in your hands after exposing yourself to your more-mature, experienced best friend. “god, i’m such a loser,”

“hey, don’t say that. there’s nothing wrong with being inexperienced. none of that’s important if you love someone.” the same way he loves you. “plus, a lot of guys like inexperienced girls.” he murmurs, mostly speaking for himself, though the only inexperienced girl– girl, in general– he likes is you.

a sigh escapes your lips at his words, “but… i don’t wanna be inexperienced. i wanna know what i’m doing and how to do it right…i wish i was more like you,” you frown, removing your hands to look at him, confusion prevalent on his face. “you seem like you’re so good at everything when it comes to… that…kinda stuff…”

his throat dries, “h-how would you even know that?”

“well, i mean…you’re not exactly the quietest, wonwoo,”

wonwoo is shocked, honestly. he knew he had a handful of hookups and one night stands, but he never thought you would’ve known that.

besides, he always imagined them to be you riding him, crying for him. as much as he loves getting his dick wet, he would never see another girl again if it meant even one chance with you.

it's a stretch. a big one, but if he could give you the earth, he would– in a single heartbeat with no hesitation whatsoever. “well… then do you want me to maybe… show you? what it’s like…? give you a good first experience?”

your body freezes and your eyes widen like a deer caught in headlights. sure, you’ve always found your best friend attractive, but you figured that couldn’t be helped. you knew you never had a chance, not when he had an endless line of girls who would do anything for just one night with him.

wonwoo is the definition of womanizer, he always has been. for as long as you could remember, girls would throw themselves at him and praise him like he was some kind of god. in some ways, you thought he was.

in all fairness, he was gorgeous and tall and strong. a catch, as some girls would say. he smelled good, too. so good it makes your head spin and your body flood with heat. and he had that rare smile– the one he’d only show the ones he loved– and it was blindingly beautiful. it was a smile that made you feel blessed. a smile that made you feel lucky because you were always on the receiving end– wonwoo always smiled at you.

he never pursued as many girls as you thought he would have. you always figured that’s what guys liked– all of the girls fawning over them– but wonwoo was so different. he didn’t like the attention that much, but, unfortunately for him, that’s what comes with being as handsome as he is.

you knew he was out of your league. he was everything a girl would want and what were you in a sea of girls? a sea of girls with loads of experience and confidence, for that matter.

you were just lucky to have him in your life because he really was such a good friend. he’s always been so protective of you since he met you all those years ago through a mandatory math tutoring session. nothing could ruin the image you have of him– not even the ear-splitting moans of the girls he fucks. you want nothing but for him to be your friend forever.

and maybe you have imagined… once or twice… what it would be like to be one of the obnoxiously loud girls in his bed, but that didn’t mean you wanted it… did it?

you try to play it off to see if he was pulling another one of his typical stunts on you. “wonwoo, this isn’t funny—“

“i‘m being serious,” he says so earnestly, leaning into you, the proximity between the two of you quickly closing. you feel like you should pull back, tell him to stop, kick him out— anything— but you just can’t. “lemme help you, sweetheart… i‘ll show you how to feel good,” his minty breath fans over your face.

your body twitches, feeling a soft pulse in your lower region when the familiar pet name falls from his lips. your pace of breath quickens along with your heartbeat.

“is…isn’t this wrong?” you ask. you want to scold your brain for wanting to do this with your best friend whom you live with. not to mention the fact that you also have a boyfriend.

yes, you think, this is totally and completely wrong.

he shakes his head, “it’s not, promise, ‘m just helping a friend out… only if you’ll let me,” his voice hushes to a whisper as his hand pulls the comforter off your body, a large hand moving to take a hold of your waist, the other on your bare thigh extremely close to the thin pink fabric of your absolutely-soiled panties.

you’re left panting at the little contact, skin itching for even more. “wonwoo…” you whisper and it’s absolutely desperate. “wonwoo, w-what will i tell him?”

he feels his blood boil and he has to keep from snapping at the mere mention of that son of a bitch. he doesn’t even know him and, even still, he wants to bash his head in. “you don’t have to tell him anything,” he responds to you sweetly despite how angry and desperate he is.

you won’t have to do a thing. he’ll take care of everything for you, especially that boyfriend of yours.

you contemplate your options, but it’s getting harder to have a coherent thought with his warm hand being so incredibly close to your needy pussy.

wonwoo is just helping you, he even said it himself. if anything, he’s getting you out of the sticky situation you made for yourself.

and so you nod your head, whimpering out the words. “okay wonwoo… please help me,”

unbeknownst to you, wonwoo was hoping you’d say that. hoping you’d let him help you stretch you out (not for your boyfriend, but for him). help you take his cock. help you cum all over him and corrupt your pretty body. he’ll help you leave your boyfriend and realize that wonwoo is all you’ll need. all you’ll want. all you’ll know. he’ll help you, his best friend, his pretty girl, his fucking dream.

your words trigger something in his brain and it’s all he needs before closing the gap between the two of you. the way he practically pounces on you and slots your lips together, it’s similar to a predator going after its prey.

it’s apparent you’re not as skilled as him as your lips struggle to keep up, whimpering at how rough he was being. you open your mouth a little bit to tell him to slow down, but instead, he pushes his tongue inside and explores the warmth and wetness of your mouth.

and he can’t slow down. he can usually keep his composure and control himself, but you don’t even know how long he’s been waiting for this moment. if only you knew the perverted things your best friend had done without your knowledge, there’s no way you’d let him anywhere near you. he can’t stop, tongue inspecting every inch of your mouth until he feels your hands press flat against his chest in an attempt to push him away.

your swollen lips turn into a pout staring into his eyes filled with hunger and desire. “won,” you say, a lilt to your angelic voice. fuck, is all wonwoo can think as he finally realizes how hard and leaky his cock is after all this time. “can’t keep up…”

he almost feels bad, but every time he feels remorse it’s overshadowed by the burning desire to hear you, feel you, see you cum… just for him, not your silly little boyfriend, that fucking asshole. he needs you to be his.

“‘m sorry, pretty girl,” he pants, hands inching up your upper thigh. “i‘ll slow down, yeah?” his voice drips with desperation and, god, you feel your pussy flooding with more of your warm arousal.

you nod, leaning into him again, pressing a kiss against his lips. his lips are soft as they mold into yours, nothing like what you’re used to. you couldn’t even compare wonwoo’s lips to anything– not even your boyfriend.

you feel heat course your veins. everything is so hot, the room feels like it’s on fire. when did it get so hot? you want to hide in his neck, in your pillow, in something, but wonwoo gives you no room to be shy.

the intrusive thoughts are cut short when you feel his warm hand slide into your panties, a deep gasp escaping your lips. his fingers quickly find your hardened clit, untouched and desperate for attention. the initial touch has shockwaves jolting through your body and you swear you won’t be able to survive anything more than that.

you part your lips from him as his two fingers rub swift circles into your clit, timid whines and moans erupting from your chest and your eyes practically taped shut as you feel his burning gaze on your face. it’s when your hips unintentionally begin to move, grinding into his hand, softly moaning his name out, “wonwoo!” that he loses it.

“fuck,” he mutters, removing his hand and watching your face of pleasure turn into complete shock. he ignores your whiny protests, gently pushing you to lay on your back. “shhh, baby, trust me. gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, don’t you worry.”

his hands peel the panties off you, rolling them off your legs and inspecting them– they’re new. you don’t need to know that he knows, though. especially since he is the reason you needed to get more.

nonetheless, he tosses them to the side. you’re sure if your judgment wasn’t clouded by the new overwhelming craving you have for pleasure, your body would burn in humiliation due to being exposed to your best friend. the same best friend who’s always been there for you and seen you at your very worst, yet continues to be there for you when you need him.

with hearts in his eyes, he stares at your glistening cunt, “jesus christ,” he murmurs, “prettiest fucking pussy in the world, might have to keep you all to myself.” he knows the words are going through one ear and out the other, but the way you moan and arch your back for a single touch eggs him on.

“wonwoo,” you whimper softly.

“yes, baby, what do you need?” he knows exactly what you need. you need him to rub your clit, press his fingers into your tight pussy and open you up, and you especially need him to tell you how well you’re doing– he fucking knows, but he needs to hear you say it. he needs your pretty little mouth to tell him.

you pant, pussy getting wetter by the second solely off the pet names and wonwoo’s voice alone. “need you to help me like you promised… please help me…”

and he can’t resist when you sound so needy. he’s 99% sure he could cum untouched just at the sight of you under him with tears in your eyes while you beg for him to touch you. you’re so perfect, so so perfect and he doesn't understand how no one has taken you away from him yet.

“you want my fingers, sweetheart? want me to help you open up this pretty cunt for my cock?” he asks hotly, leaning in closer to your body.

you gasp at his words, your leaky hole clenching around nothing. “god, yes, yes, wonwoo, yes,” you nod your head vigorously, shyness fleeing your body as you're taken over by pure need. “please gimme your fingers.”

he smirks at your words and his dick twitches at the request. he knows this moment will replay in his head during every second of the day till he can have you like this again.

“good girl,” he whispers, pressing a peck to your swollen lips and keens when you chase him for another with a whimper. “brace yourself for me… might sting a little, but it’ll feel really good after a while. tell me if you need me to stop, hmm?”

you nod your head, stomach swirling with endless amounts of anticipation. the calloused pad of his thumb finds your clit, rubbing into it once more. you figure it’s to distract you from the feeling of his lengthy digit pressing into your hole.

a whine erupts from your throat at the tiny stretch that stings throughout your body. you take a deep breath, trying to relax as wonwoo pushes the finger in and out at a slow and steady pace.

“doing so well for me, pretty. promise it’ll feel good when you get used to it,” he reassures with a tight-lipped smile as if he’s getting ready to burst at any given moment.

that’s probably because he is. watching your tight pussy swallow his finger and wrap so nicely around him has him reeling. he thinks about what it’d be like to watch his cock disappear inside of you, for your velvet walls to wrap around him like you were made just for his cock.

luckily, the sting fades away sooner than you thought it would, just as wonwoo had promised. your tiny whimpers of pain were soon replaced by pleasured moans, and he can tell that you’re ready for more of his fingers.

he pulls out his middle finger to bring two of them together. you gasp in surprise feeling the pads of his two fingers circle at your entrance before they push their way inside of you.

it hurts more than the first finger, you have to admit, but you take him in easily with the amount of arousal that pools out of your pussy. you pant, whines dying on your tongue as you feel the burning stretch. you don’t tell him to stop, though, not like you’d want to.

wonwoo’s close to losing it. he can feel the way you clench around his fingers, almost like you're trying to push him out but suck him in at the same time. you’re so fucking tight and he thinks he must be in heaven. you’re the last thing he deserves, yet here you are, swallowing his big fingers in your pretty, virgin cunt.

he gradually spreads his fingers, opening you up and the experimental move has you moaning. “that feel alright?” he asks almost breathlessly.

you give him a broken nod, “feels weird… b-but good.” you attempt to inform.

you’re sheepish for a few minutes as he’s slowly scissoring his fingers inside of you, but the question comes out before your hazy mind can fully comprehend. “c-can you try three?” it comes out a bit slurred and timid, but wonwoo understands. he completely understands.

he wants, so badly, to fuck you stupid. to the point where you don’t know how to speak. he wants to call you his greedy slut for wanting more even though it makes him see red. he opts out, though, not wanting your first time to be tainted with degrading words because he knows you’re good. a good girl just for him. no one else.

“oh, baby,” he coos, body filling with even more need. he presses his ring finger inside of you and basking in your cry all the while purring, “you’re doing so fucking well for me.”

you involuntarily clench at his words, back slightly arching off the bed as you moan. “wonwoo.”

he lets out a guttural moan at the sound of his name on your tongue. it’s the way he’s heard it in his dreams, the dreams where he’s ruining you for everyone else.

wonwoo knows he’s crazy, trust, he knows. he understands the way he feels about you is abnormal, but fuck, right now? he feels absolutely, postively insane.

“god, you’re so gorgeous,” he whispers, his mind slowly drifting. “so fucking pretty taking my fingers like this, taking ‘em like a champ.”

he thrusts his fingers into you with ease, stretching you effectively while being sure to rub at your sweet spot. he watches them disappear and reappear at your opening while also stealing glances at your scrunched up face. you’re such an angel.

after a while, the burning sting leaves and you’re left with an immense pleasure. you didn’t think it would get any better, but there’s an unfamiliar pressure building in your tummy and you feel the need to clamp down on his digits. it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before and you swear you’re on the brink of pure ecstasy.

“wonwoo… wonwoo,” you gasp, hand blindly searching for his wrist as your eyes screw closed. “f-feels…weird… fuck! wonwoo!”

and wonwoo jus can’t. he can’t let you cum like this for the first time, it would be a crime. when you cum for the first time, he needs it to be on his cock.

he hates himself for doing so, but his movements stop. you gasp loudly, “no, no, no!” you cry out, tears forming in your eyes. you were so close, but it was unfairly taken away from you in a matter of seconds. “no, no, please keep going, please!”

“i want your first time to be on my cock, sweetheart, want you to remember it that way.” he says with his voice low. so low you can hear the beautiful rasp of his voice. “you want that don’t you? you want my cock, yeah?”

you nod profusely, face heating up at his words and the way he articulates them. “y-yes… i do.” you mumble.

“that’s a good girl.”

you moan at the praise, hips bucking up again as he stands to slip off his loose pjs. when they fall, his hard cock slaps against his covered abdomen and you feel your heart skip a beat at his size.

you gasp, sitting up as your sensitive cunt pulses once more. it’s so fucking pretty. you’ve heard your girl friends talk about how ugly and gross dicks were, a conversation that you never had input for, but after seeing wonwoo’s, you know they haven’t been blessed with the sight of one like his.

he’s huge, for starters. it makes your tummy churn and swirl because you know he won’t be able to fit inside of you— not all at once at least. it’s long with prominent veins running through. the tip is flushed and leaky and he looks so hard it hurts.

“won’t fit,” you whimper slowly gravitating towards him at the edge of your bed, eyes not leaving the throbbing member. “it’s not gonna fit, won,” you look up at him through your lashes and his entire body twitches as he looks down at your doe eyes.

“and how do you know that?” he grabs your face with one of his hands, squishing your cheeks with his pointer and thumb finger. “you can take it, baby, don’t worry. i’ll be gentle.”

the tone of his voice drops an octave, and this time, you don’t believe him. there is something predatory about his words that makes you squirm and gush under his gaze. you don’t think he’ll be gentle, the way he looks at you like… it’s like he’s about to have his last meal.

and, honestly, you find that you love it. you love having him look at you like he’s yours and your his. you love his attention. you love having him like this.

he pushes you back again, your back hitting the plush bed. you bite your lip as you see him join and tower over you. he flashes a smile and you slowly melt and wither away under him, body squirming a bit.

he looks in between your bodies and realizes he’s not wearing a condom. his face drains of color at the thought of your cunt taking his cock bare. “sweetheart… wait,”

your eyes widen and your lips form into a small pout, “what is it? what’s wrong?”

“need to get a condom,” he huffs and it’s apparent that he’s not very happy about the idea. he’s always worn one. every time. with every girl he’s ever been with. but every single time he’s imagined taking you, it was without one. he wants nothing in the way between you and him, but, of course, he needs to respect you and think about your safety. no matter how bad he wants it.

you furrow your eyebrows, “...why?” you whisper.

this time, he mirrors your confused look. you’re a virgin, sure, but you must know what a condom is. “what do you mean why, angel? it’s pro–”

you shake your head, cutting him off. “i mean, why do you need it? are you… not clean?” you ask worriedly.

“no, of course i am!”

“well, don’t leave me here,” you mumble. “‘m on the pill now, so you should be fine without one… now, please? wanna feel like i did before… wanna feel all of you…”

wonwoo now knows he’s died. he’s died and now he’s in paradise. you, and all your beauty, laying under him with the prettiest pout, begging for him. for his cock. raw. everything he’s dreamed of is about to come true... if he doesn’t cum first.

“god,” he mutters. he takes his length in his hand, stroking himself before lining up with your entrance. “you want my cock then?” he whispers, dragging the tip up and down your messy folds.

“yeah, please… go slow…”

he lets out a shaky breath, nodding his head before guiding himself back to your dripping hole. he inhales sharply, pushing himself inside, immediately entranced by the feeling of your warmth enveloping him whole.

you wince letting out a soft cry of his name. he pushes past the resistance and you feel him taking something that’s been so sacred for as long as you could remember, but if you’re being transparent you couldn’t be happier that it’s him. you wouldn’t want anyone else to be in this position.

“fuck, baby,” he grunts with his raspy, deep voice that makes you clench even tighter around him. “fuck, so fucking tight, baby. so perfect.” he can barely trust his voice. it’s barely been five minutes, but he swears on everything he’s never felt this good before.

you’re not even sure his fingers helped you enough because the stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. “hurts…” you whimper out, eyes screwed close to keep the pained tears from falling.

he bites his lip to suppress a moan at the sight of you like this, instead asking, “you good, baby? need me to pull out?” he’ll die if you do, so he hopes you answer against the idea.

“n-no,” you pant, trying to breathe your way through the pain. “j-just go slow…s’big, feel too full,” you reply, brain unable to give him complete sentences.

his eyes almost roll at your broken words. “i know, baby, i know. you’re doing so well for me, hm? takin’ it well all for me,” he manages to tell you even though he’s twitching like he might explode within the next 30 seconds.

his praise makes you gasp as you arch your back, a new gush of arousal coating his hard length. when wonwoo speaks to you like this, it makes your head fog. the validation and praise and the lovingness behind it all makes you want to have him forever. you want him to speak to you like you're his baby forever.

it almost makes you forget that this is just a favor. that you have a boyfriend and he has a sea of gorgeous women lined up for him. almost.

after a few more minutes of slowly inching his way inside you, he finally bottoms out. you’re already a bit sore from the stretch, but the pain recedes and he fits like a glove. like he was made to be inside you and you were made to take him and all of his glory. it only riles you up, your pussy tightening around him even more.

he groans out your name, “fuck, don’t do that or i won’t be able to last, pretty girl.”

“‘m sorry,” you mewl. “can’t help it, feels so good, wonwoo,” you finally open your eyes to look into his. “keep moving please?” you pout, keeping your tears at bay.

he can’t emphasize how close he is to spontaneously combusting and pumping you full just to fuck you over and over again. he wants to fuck you till your pussy’s raw and you’re begging for mercy. he wants to see your pretty tears, hear your cries, see you dripping in sweat and cum.

he doesn’t say anything, pulling out slowly and pushing himself back in. you gasp, hands moving to tug on the fabric of his shirt in attempts to pull it off.

“ah, ah, ah,” wonwoo reprimands. “can’t be the only one without a shirt, baby, you gotta take yours off first.” he smirks at your eagerness.

you nod quickly as you sit up, still so full of him, peeling your flimsy tank top off. you free your chest and wonwoo groans when he finally sees them.

“so pretty…” he mumbles, pushing you back down with a bit more force than you were expecting. one of his hands comes to squeeze the fat, fondling it like he’s wanted to for so long. his cock thrusts into you again a bit faster and you cry again at the stimulation.

“t-take it off!” you beg, reaching for the shirt again.

he chuckles, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the pile of clothes on the floor. once you see his skin, your arms immediately wrap around his neck pulling him down for a kiss. you imitate the actions of your first kiss earlier, opening your mouth to let his tongue in. you let him sloppily makeout with your own.

it’s messy. a newfound experience for you. you’ve never had a kiss like this– never had a kiss where it felt like you were about to get swallowed whole. you’ve never had a kiss filled with so much passion, a kiss so loud where you’re moaning into someone's mouth and they’re moaning into yours so lustily. it’s your first. wonwoo’s your first for many it seems.

wonwoo can’t say he’s never had a messy kiss because he’s had plenty. maybe a few too many. but, unbeknownst to you, he’s never felt so eager for anyone in all his years of knowing you– lusting after you. he wants this so bad. he wants you so fucking bad it’s making his throat constrict, his abdomen tighten, his dick twitch as it’s surrounded by your warm walls.

his cock fills you up so well and you feel like there’s a big possibility that you may get addicted to the feeling. now that the pain has subsided, you can feel the prominent veins pressing into your velvety walls. you can feel every twitch and his bulbous head rubbing right against that spot that’s turning your brain into mush.

“fuck, baby, you’re so good,” he moans into your mouth, thrusts increasing in pace.

“love it when you call me that,” you admit, mindlessly. you pull him in closer, nails digging into his back, imprinting red crescent shapes in the skin.

he lets out a guttural groan, breaking from the kiss and looking into your teary eyes. “you like being my good little baby, huh?” he asks breathlessly and when you whine and clench around him, he chuckles. “i can tell, angel, pretty pussy is loving my cock– swallowing all of me like such a good slut.”

he didn’t mean to say it, but when the words slip out, your eyes widen. his expression mirrors yours and his speed falters. your pulse thumps erratically and you’re sure your heart is going to lurch out of your chest, teeth catching your bottom lip, biting and digging into the pillowy muscle.

“i didn’t mean–”

“keep going…” you whisper, hooking your legs around his waist to pull him into you and return to his prior pace. “oh, won, please keep going.” your begs make him reel.

your pupils are completely blown out now. like you’ve taken some type of drug and you’re feeling the euphoric effects of it all. you can’t wrap your head around why you feel the way you do because of one degrading word.

jesus christ, he thinks to himself. he has to be in love. you’re so greedy, so much potential to be his gorgeous girl. he thinks you’re perfect for him– no, he knows you’re perfect for him. he’s confident with the way he fits in you and the way you trust him with your body. he can’t even care to think about your stupid boyfriend. you’re his now. his to fuck stupid and pump full of cum. his to punish and praise and pleasure. he’ll turn you into his own little cockhungry slut.

his thoughts get the best of him as he nearly blacks out at the idea of you being his. his hips snap against yours with a particularly harsh thrust and he feels his tip kissing your cervix and you sob out, “fuh-fuck!”

and at the sound of your sobs and pleads and curses, he feels as if he can’t restrain himself any longer. he sits up on his knees, hands grabbing at your waist with a vice-like grip that will likely result in splats of purple bruises the next morning. not like either of you could give a fuck. he relentlessly pounds into you, balls lewdly slapping against your sloppy cunt without a care in the world.

your cries and his groans plus all the pornographic sounds your bodies make together fill the room, bouncing off your cutely decorated walls. he can tell you’re going to cum soon when your breathing picks up, watching the way your chest rises and falls at an alarming rate.

you suddenly remember how you felt right before he had snatched his fingers from you earlier. you can feel it creeping back up, the fiery knot in your tummy tightening. your hand finds the sensitive bud wonwoo was toying with earlier, gently rubbing circles into it.

he notices immediately and grunts. “such a greedy girl already, aren’t you? i’ve ruined you.” ruined you for everyone else and it’s been the best thing he’s ever done, he fails to add.

you nod, tears dripping down the sides of your face. “g-god!”

“not quite, baby.” he chuckles breathily. “gonna cum for me? hmm, baby? gonna soak my cock for the first time like the good little slut you are?” he rambles, his own orgasm– that he’s held back all this time– quickly approaching.

you mewl at the mixed praise and degradation once more, fingers working faster as your brain numbs. “oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you slur. “oh, ‘m gonna… wonwoo, ‘m gonna–!”

the words die on your tongue– the stimulation on your clit and the stimulation of his cock ramming into your sweet spot has you coming all over him. your back arches and your thighs convulse as you clamp around his cock. a squealing mantra of his name and curses flee your mouth as the tightrope in your tummy snaps.

you don’t think you’ve ever felt anything as euphoric in your life. it feels so good to let go and gush all over his cock while he fucks you through your orgasm so erratically. you can tell he’s close, too. a few more seconds and he’ll be making a mess.

“ah, fuck– ‘m so close, baby, pretty pussy’s milking me for all i’m worth,” he moans out the warning. “love it so much.” he loves you so much.

you can barely hear a noise, let alone comprehend any of his words, so you just nod frantically as your sensitive body twitches under him sporadically.

his thrusts go sloppy and before you know it, he pulls out, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. “fuck,” he grunts before he’s overtaken by the immense pleasure your pussy’s given him. he moans and lets out small whimpers as he pumps his cock, painting your sheen skin with his warm seed. he throws his head back as he moans out your name, “Y/N, fuck,”

he wishes so badly he could have came inside of you, but he’s going to make sure there’s another opportunity for that. he’ll be damned if he never fucks your cute pussy again.

you whimper at the sudden warm substance on your skin. your eyes crack open to see your stomach covered in a sticky, white liquid– or maybe a mix between liquid and solid. your not sure you know how to describe it.

you look at him as your mind comes to you. his hair disheveled, a few strays sticking to his sweaty forehead and the pace, at which, his chest rises and falls slows till it’s normal once more.

when you come down, you suddenly remember your boyfriend. you were so sure you wanted him till wonwoo looked at you, made you feel special, took your virginity– now, you’re a mess. the mental image of your boyfriend fogs over in your head with words wonwoo whispered to you while he was fucking you.

but you shouldn’t think about it anymore, right? everything was going to go back to normal after tonight, wouldn’t it? wonwoo will ever forgot this happened and he would bring some girl over when he thought you were gone and fuck her the same way he fucked you. you’d go back to thinking about your boyfriend trying to push the thoughts of your best friend making you cum over and over out of your head (it won’t work, but a girl can dream). all will be well. for one of you, at least.

“Y/N?” he mumbles.

you look up at him and give him a small smile, “thanks for your help, won,” you whisper masking the sadness in your voice. “‘m gonna shower…” you don’t wait for his reply before you move off your bed.

your legs are wobbly and your entirety feels sore. he really did a number on you. you whimper with every step you take and wonwoo quickly finds his pants and slips them on before rushing to your side.

“Y/N, c’mon, lemme take care of you.” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist to ground you and keeping your body from hobbling over. “get back on the bed, baby,” he whispers into your ear.

you huff, physically unable to fight him on the matter and shuffling back to your bed uncomfortably. the ache between your legs and the nasty feeling of his release drying on your naked body were not a good mix. then you fucking remembered you were naked. you gasp, startling wonwoo, your arms wrapping around your body in attempts to hide yourself as if he hadn’t fucked you five minutes ago.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, a look of confusion painting his face.

“y-you… i… i’m naked…” you tell him meekly, moving to lay on the bed again. “this… is so weird.”

he smiles softly at your sudden shyness. “back to being shy, are we?” you frown at him and he just laughs heartily, your body filling with even more dread because– god. he’s just perfect and not yours. “‘m only teasing, doll, ‘s okay.”

you don’t reply, awkwardly shifting under his gaze. the pet name sounds so natural. like he’s meant to call you pretty things. like you're meant to be his.

but he’s not yours and you’re not his.

you stutter, words fleeing you in the moment you need them most. “wonwoo… i-i…”

you look like you’re on the brink of tears, guilt wracking your body. wonwoo feels his chest tighten, breath hitching in his dry throat, “Y/N, do you regret it?” he asks, words hushed. he’s anxious.

“no! no, no, i don’t… i don’t regret it. i trust you more than anyone, wonwoo. i promise.” you say meekly and he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. “i just… can we act like it never happened?”

the weight returns. heavier. it nearly crushes him. he couldn’t forget about this even if he’d wanted to. he’s already tattooed every second of tonight into his fuzzy brain. every reaction, every moan, every single word you gave him is all he’ll think about.

he clears his throat, a shaky exhale slipping his lips before asking, “if you don’t regret it then why…?” he can’t even get the question out. he knows the answer. (read: the unnamed boyfriend– the one that he swears he’ll kill the second he meets him.)

you avert your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. “you know why.”

he does.

“and plus, we’re just friends. and roommates. it’ll just be awkward.” you cringe at your words because, unbeknownst to him, you don’t want to forget it. you know you won’t be able to forget it. not the possessive words that he spat during his sex-crazed haze, not the way his cock felt, not the way he looked at you.

he waits for you to look at him, but you don’t. you can’t look at him right now.

“okay.” he says coldly after sitting in deafening silence for over a minute. “consider it forgotten.”

he’ll make you his one of these days. you may not know it yet, but you belong with him. and he’d do anything for you.

#wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut

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catscidr · 3 months ago

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˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ 𝐤!𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟏: 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐤!𝐧𝐤 // — 𝐟𝐭. 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫!𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐮/𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐳𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢.

i. note — OFF TO A ROUGH START the kenny/geto fic ended up being a whopping 4,5k so i edited it down to be roughly 2k (the full ver is gonna be on ao3 though!) so if the writing seems funky That's Why + im still not completely used to writing smut yet. similar thing kinda happened w zhongli but i went fuck it we ball so im sry if the smut feels short bare with me. im stressed. ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) anyways pls enjoy and happy kinktober lads ii. includes — amab!kenjaku (geto's appearance), zhongli. afab!reader iii. cw — kinda mean dom!kenjaku, he's referred to as suguru for Reasons, dubcon bc power dynamics, manipulation, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, one singular cl!t slap, praise and degradation, he's a yapper. -> can very well be read as a mean!suguru/reader if u choose to ignore that one line about his forehead lol — soft dom!zhongli, hu tao cameo, praise, fingering, some whimpering, piv, implied multiple orgasms, a lil breathplay, he nuts dubiously fast, implied round 2 iv. wc — 4,3k -> ao3 link for the full kenjaku fic here!

— 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐆./𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐮.

“So, according to your medical records, you’ve never had a pap smear. Is that correct?”

Your blood runs cold. Shit, I didn’t think he would bring THAT up during a normal, unassuming routine checkup. I’m so fucked.

“Ah, um... no, I haven’t,” you respond sheepishly, clenching your teeth so hard you wonder if he can tell just how hard you’re trying not to bolt out of the door.

If he wasn’t a medical professional, Suguru would have made a fine actor; and so, as all normal doctors do, he belts you with numerous questions you loathe answering, one of them being the infamous;

“Are you sexually active?”

Swallowing down the urge to flee the scene, away from those stupid fluorescent lights and that irritating cleaning solution smell, you answer as normally as you possibly can. “I have been, but-”

“Have you been made aware that all female bodies that have been sexually active should get a pap smear as soon as they turn 21?” he adds, jotting something down in his notes—your personal file, you assume.

You gulp, internally thinking of excuses to worm into the conversation. “I have, yes. But Doctor Ieiri told m-”

“I’m sorry, but I am not Doctor Ieiri. I want the best for my patients, even if some procedures can be uncomfortable. That’s just the way life is; but I’ll do my best to accommodate your needs.” Suguru gives you a patient smile and a nod, though he was firm and, honestly, quite stubborn.

Relenting, you murmur a quiet ‘okay’, already justifying this, telling yourself that it could be worse. You could be getting a pap smear from an old man that still believe women shouldn’t be allowed ibuprofen when getting an IUD inserted.

“Great! Then please take off your pants and underwear. I’ll step out to give you some privacy.” Suguru flashes you an award-winning smile as he leaves the vicinity, drawing back the light curtain that separated his actual office to the examination room.

All blood drains from your being as you listen to the sound of his footsteps fading, and instead you’re met with heavy, oppressive silence.

...

You knew getting a pap smear would be uncomfortable, that much was a given, but you didn’t think it would be near as humiliating as this. Doctors witness people both inside AND out, day and night; so pray tell, why were you sweating bullets at the prospect of your doctor doing his job? Was it because he was infuriatingly attractive and the thought of someone like him performing your pap smear was enough to get your blood rushing south?

(Obviously.)

“You’re doing great,” he coos encouragingly. “Do you need a moment?”

You blink away the tears that glossed your eyes, and nod sheepishly. He flashes you a smile and gently pulls out the speculum. You wince, but the sting wears off quickly. As a silent apology, he slides the hand that rested on your stomach down until it reaches your pelvis and applies slight pressure.

“Deep breaths.”

You inhale slowly, eyes fluttering shut. Right when you started to feel calmer, you jolt; his thumb brushes against your clit, a movement that seemed too calculated to be an accident. Your eyes snap open and as you look down, you’re met with his eyes piercing into yours as he continuously rubs you, almost casually.

“W-Wha-”

He shushes you by pressing his thumb down firmly, earning himself a nice, breathy whimper.

“You need to relax. Let me take care of you,” he murmurs, lips curling upwards.

Your eyes zero in on the way his thumb smears your slick all over your clit— and his hand. You’re so wet that you can hear your pleasure, squelching noises violating your ears with the repetitive movements of his thumb, and you feel the coil inside of you tighten in tandem with his fingers. Tighter and tighter, aggressively shoving you towards your rapidly incoming climax.

And God the latex of his glove rubs against your skin so deliciously. Your hips roll up to meet his hand for more stimulation you don’t even think you can handle. You’re so lost in the pleasure he’s giving you that you don’t even notice how desperate you look until he laughs, the noise sounding so incredibly sweet in your ears despite your humiliating predicament.

Straightening his back, Suguru breaks eye contact to peer down at your slick cunt. “You’re dripping so much it’s getting on the table. Did you even notice you were this aroused, or were you too focused on drilling holes into me to realize it?” He scoffs, decidedly amused at the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing while he continues to stimulate your needy clit.

You want to deny his (correct) assumptions, to pull away and leave this damn building until further notice, but God was he skilled with his hands. His fingers were dangerous, lethal even.

“I’m n-”

Your breath hitches when he smacks your clit, his sharp brows furrowing as he sneers at you and your blissful expression betraying what you wished to say. It shouldn’t, but the sight turns you on in a way you’d never say without squirming in shame. “Don’t lie to me now. How long have you been wet for?”

Shaking your head, you purse your lips in a tight line, ashamed to admit that you had been ever since he first started the examination.

Scoffing, he stands up, towering over you from between your legs. He leans over you, cupping your face as he forces his thumb past your lips, making you taste yourself and the polymer fabric of the glove on his thumb.

“You didn’t think I’d notice? You started fidgeting quite a lot once I started the checkup. Was it the proximity? Do you find me so attractive you forget how to act normally?” he gloats, pushing his thumb down onto your tongue. Looking up at him through dewy eyelashes, you swallow the saliva that pools in your mouth.

He grins, lowering his face closer to yours; some strands of his hair come undone from the bun, and you feel drawn to his gaze. You can’t look away—neither figuratively or literally. You stare into his eyes, drinking in the sight of his picturesque features, and that painful-looking but intriguing scar running across his forehead.

(You’re not sure you would look away even if you had a choice, anyways.)

“Do you have a fetish for doctors or something? How filthy,” he croons. “Or is it my gloves? Do you like feeling my hands prodding at your cunt? And here I was, trying to be useful.” When you whimper around the thumb in your mouth, he knows he’s guessed correctly.

(He’s so pretty. Vague images of him—his hands—appear in your mind. You want him to pin your wrists together while he fingerfucks you, you want him to wrap a hand around your throat while he scissors you open, you want—)

He uses his free hand to glide it between your legs and slides his fingers up and down your slit to collect your juices. It drips down his fingers, past the polymer of his glove down to the porcelain skin beneath it. “I bet there isn’t going to be any resistance when I slide my fingers in,” he pulls out his thumb from your mouth and smears your saliva on your lips, then cups your cheeks with said hand. “Want to find out?”

You gasp when he pushes his ring and middle fingers inside simultaneously as your walls flutter so nicely around them—with the dexterity of, well, a doctor, he quickly finds that spongy spot inside of you and abuses it until you’re a writhing, squirmy mess.

Moans slip freely from your tender lips, a cacophony of wet slaps and ‘ah! ah!’’s echo in the room while Suguru drinks in the sight of your body submitting up to him.

“There you go, wasn’t this worth putting your trust in me?” he uses the opportunity to slip two fingers inside of your mouth with the hand that held your face, muffling your slutty moans. “Aren’t you glad you let me do your pap smear? Aren’t you glad I could tell how badly you wanted this?”

A choked whimper rips through you when he begins to use his thumb to rub your clit at the same time as he bullies his fingers in your wet pussy. His lips stretch into a sinister grin as he watches you struggle to catch your breath; you were so overwhelmed your head spun, oxygen failing you.

You latch your hands around his forearm and wrist as you try to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure; though your attempts are in vain. “P-Please! I can-can't take much... more...!” you manage to choke out.

He laughs, his own breathing becoming shallower and shallower the more he pushes you near the edge of your orgasm. “I don’t care, I’ll make you take it if I have to. Come on, you can be good for me, can’t you?”

You drool around the fingers he kept in your mouth as tears threaten to slide down your cheeks, overwhelmed with how much he kept rubbing you from the inside and out. Cracking your eyes open, you take a peek at the mess between your legs, and immediately clench around him when you catch but a glimpse of the mix of dried and wet slick on his blue glove.

He notices and slows down the rhythm of his fingers thrusting inside you, letting you catch your breath for a moment. “So filthy,” he hums condescendingly. “Since you love my hands so much, you won’t mind cleaning them off, right?”

Your poor, fucked-out brain doesn’t have the time to process what he meant before you whine at the loss of his thick fingers inside your cunt and then are immediately met with those same fingers thrust past your lips, making you gag around them. The tangy taste of your juices hits your tastebuds as you wrap your tongue around them, dutifully doing as he asked.

His sharp eyes meet your own cloudy ones, seemingly satisfied. “Good girl,” he coos. “Who would have known that someone like you would get off to sucking off a glove.” You whine, holding onto his free hand to bring it between your legs, batting your eyelashes up at him needily.

“Hm? Does my filthy little patient want to cum?” You shudder as he drags his fingers up and down your cunt, collecting your slick to flick your clit. You choke around the fingers in your mouth, whining, almost crying, and your eyelids flutter shut, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you finally surrender yourself to him.

“Of course she does.” He plunges three fingers inside your cunt, bullying them in and out over and over and over until you can’t even lick and suck on his fingers anymore. You’re too busy letting out loud moans as he abuses your sweet spot endlessly; long forgotten are the worries that plagued your mind earlier. All you could think of was Suguru, Suguru, Suguru.

A shudder runs down his spine as he watches you writhe in pleasure, and for a moment he imagines just how much worse you would look if he had teased your tits or kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. If the tip of his cock kissed your g-spot instead of his fingers.

(Maybe he should bribe the secretary and make her schedule your next doctor’s visit with him instead of Ieiri.)

“That’s it, come on. Cum on my fingers.” Your lips wrap around the fingers in your mouth, teeth grazing them just barely as you try to contain your moans.

Unable to contain yourself any longer, you clench around his gloved fingers as he continuously rubs up into your sweet spot. The coil in your abdomen snaps; slick gushes out of you, forming a thin sheen on his fingers.

“F-Fuck—!” With trembling thighs, you gush and moan; Suguru pulls his hand away from your face, cooing sweet nothing into your ears that your brain can’t even process while thrusting his digits into you at a slower pace to drag out your orgasm. After almost wringing his fingers dry with how hard you came, you lay numb on the examination bed, chest heaving while you try to catch your breath and come to your senses.

Your eyelids flutter open just in time to watch your doctor lick his gloved fingers clean, humming as he tastes your juices. “Sweet,” he hums, never breaking eye contact with you. “Here, since you loved them so much.” With swift movements, he tosses his gloves on your chest, grinning at your astonished expression.

“Well, nothing’s wrong with you,” he says as he stands tall, rolling his shoulders to lessen the strain from being hunched over you for a solid ten minutes. When you respond with nothing but a quiet, blissed-out ‘huh’ he scoffs, decidedly amused.

He clarifies, voice light and casual. “The pap smear. Nothing abnormal in there.”

Feeling your face heat up, you’re unsure if you should curse out or thank Doctor Ieiri for taking a vacation at the same time you needed to schedule your annual checkup.

— 𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢.

You don’t know what you’ve done in your past life for Celestia to reward you with the most caring, loving boyfriend in the world but you’re not complaining—not one bit.

Even something as banal as waking up next to him is a blessing in it of itself; watching his hair drape over bare shoulders, locks shimmering like a river of gold beneath the sun’s rays peeking through your curtains—you could die happy if it meant dying at his side.

You get to admire him when he goes through his—your morning routine. Brushing your teeth together, cooking and then eating breakfast together, basking in the lively sounds of the city beneath your patio as you engage in easy, comfortable conversation with none other than Rex Lapis while you eat.

The one thing you’re certain you would never tire of—not that you’d get tired of anything when it came to him either way—is watching him get dressed.

There’s something so comforting and entirely domestic when it comes to helping your lover slip out of his pajamas and into his day clothes. Kisses are a common form of currency between you two, exchanged gingerly when you hand him an article of clothing. He never fails to make you feel loved, and you bask in the affection like a cat sprawled out beneath a window on a sunny afternoon.

Though, one sure-fire way to obliterate the cozy atmosphere within your flat is, you’ve recently discovered, to stare at Zhongli just a liiittle bit too hard when he gets dressed.

Specifically, his arms and hands.

Strong, scarred biceps that used to reshape the mountains of Liyue leading to elegant, lithe fingers. Sleeves that hide intricate, delicate black and grey markings on his arms that fade into a rich golden yellow, adorned with veins of the same color that make him look even more expensive than he already does.

But when he adds the finishing touch and slips on those pretty gloves with his rings?

It’s like you just defy all normal bodily functions and start ovulating even if you’re nowhere near that part of your cycle.

“Dearest? You’ve been zoning out a lot lately, is everything alright?”

...Though, of course, Zhongli hasn’t been up to date with your newly raging hormones because how are you supposed to tell him you can’t help popping a metaphorical boner every time he puts his gloves on.

“You’re fi—I mean, I’m fine! Yes. Everything’s okay!”

He is the concept of temptation itself. You’re certain that if you had a dick, you would have passed out cold on the floor from your blood rushing down to your hard-on every time you merely lay eyes on his beautiful self.

And it’s gotten even worse these last couple of days; all because he cupped your cheek one morning before he left for the funeral parlor, and left a salacious kiss on your lips that left more than just your usual desire brewing in your abdomen. The material of his gloves left your skin feeling pleasantly tingly for a reason you couldn’t explain.

….Those stupid gloves.

“I can tell something’s bothering you.” Long legs stride over the bed as he closes the distance between you two. “What’s wrong?”

He’s half-dressed, with his tie slung around his nape and both his vest and tailored coat lying flat on your shared bed, next to where you sat. You sheepishly avoid eye-contact; with how perceptive he is, you wouldn’t be surprised if he hit you with a nonchalant ‘hey babe are you turned on because of my hands and gloves?’

No.

Yes.

“It’s nothing,” you hum. “You should finish getting dressed, don’t you have a meeting in half an hour? Director Hu won’t be happy if you-”

Zhongli places his thumb and forefinger on and beneath your chin, gently tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “That’s not what I asked, darling.” You suppress a gasp; but focusing on anything but the scrumptious man in front of you is a task more daunting than Sisyphus having to carry that stupid boulder up that stupid mountain.

“Promise you won’t laugh.” Your voice comes out so meek you fear he might make you repeat yourself, but ever the gentleman, Zhongli merely hums, coaxing you to continue. “I won’t,” he says softly.

You swallow, clearing out your throat before speaking. “It’s, uh,” you murmur. “Your gloves are... nice...”

Unable to hold his gaze, you look away. The warmth of the morning sun beating on your back isn’t entirely helping your situation, as beads of sweat form at your hairline from the sheer pressure he kept over you. Curse his Archon blood.

But Zhongli merely stares, lids relaxed as he tries to dissect you with his eyes. “They are, thank you,” he chuckles quietly, lips curling up into a soft smile. “Are you sure that’s everything, though? You know you can tell me anything, right my dear?”

“Um,” you deflate, partly wishing for that to be the end of it. “...Are you sure you won’t laugh?”

“I promise,” he confirms.

Huffing, you internally think of how much mora you would have to take out of your savings to get a name change and disappear off the face of Teyvat if he ends up going back on his promise.

“Your gloves,” you reiterate slowly. “I like them. A lot.”

He blinks, expression entirely unchanging as he keeps staring. He tilts his head, wordlessly expressing complete and utter confusion.

“They’re, uh... I’m just.” You clench and unclench your hands at your sides, too aware of his calm breathing compared to your erratic heartbeat. “...Youmakemehorny.”

With your fists clenching the sheets and your gaze firmly planted on the wall, you fail to notice the amused quirk of his lips and his shoulders bobbing up and down from holding in his laugh. “What was that?”

You exhale sharply as your lips press into a tight line, but his patience greatly outweighs your own and you fold. “Your gloves turn me on! It’s hot! When you wear them!”

True to his word, Zhongli doesn’t laugh—not a peep. You do think you hear a chuckle leave his lips though, but when you finally glance at him again, you’re met with a look that might have made you implode on the spot if this were your first time together. “Zhongli—”

“Thank you for being open with me, my dear,” he cuts you off smoothly, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your lips. Pulling away slowly, he looks at you with such intensity that you fear for your legs in the future. “Shall I reward you?”

...

“Ngh—Zhongli...!”

You two had been at it for... what, twenty? Thirty minutes straight? You don’t remember what happened after you admitted what had been on your mind for almost a week; he wasted no time and immediately got to work.

Talk about dedication.

Chin covered in your slick, Zhongli laps up the juices spilling out of your puffy pussy, dragging out your last orgasm—the third of the session. He groans as the sweet taste hits his tastebuds, the Archon’s hips unconsciously rutting against the bed; the tent in his slacks was borderline painful, but being the gentleman he is, it was his duty to get you off before the main course.

“Ride it out darling,” he hums, pumping two gloved fingers in and out of you at a leisurely pace. The obscene noise of your juices echo in your mind, making you clench around his digits with carnal need for something more—something bigger.

“I-I can’t, I want...” you trail off, weakly tugging at his disheveled hair. The hair tie he used slipped uselessly off of his locks, having fallen victim to your vicious pulling of his hair. “Please, baby,” you beg weakly, still choked up from your climax(es).

With one last, long lick, he pulls away from your cunt. The sight of his cum covered face makes you whine with desire, but as your eyes trail down, your mind immediately forgets about needing his tongue back on your clit. He shuffles up the bed and straddles your hips, bucking up against your wetness.

Slick covers his crotch, and you can’t help but stare at his bulging cock pressing against the fabric of his pants. “See something you like?” he taunts, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to lick them clean from your juices.

You stare at his lips, then back down to his very obvious hard-on, and back to his lips again.

His figure shadows yours as he cages you in with his forearms, golden eyes piercing into your own. “Zhongli...” you reach down to tug at his belt, looking up at your beloved with big, glossy eyes. “Please don’t make me beg.”

A hand comes up to your face, stroking your cheek gently. He brings it down to tug on your bottom lip, smearing his saliva on your skin as a gentle smile spreads across his face. “Of course not, darling,” he hums. “I know what you need anyways, so there’s no need to tell me.”

He swiftly unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, exposing the prominent wet patch on his briefs. “See what you do to me?” Zhongli purrs, watching your fingers impatiently pull down his underwear, shuddering when his heavy cock smacks against your cunt. “You’re not the only one here that gets riled up in such a way.”

You whine, dragging your hand up and down his throbbing length, pushing it down at the same time as you slide up the bed just enough for his flushed tip to snag onto your entrance.

“Z-Zhonglii...!” you huff again, impatiently grinding down onto him, desperately needing him to fill you already. A chuckle slips past his lips, and he pulls himself out of his short-lived trance that consisted of staring at his beautiful partner to cup your face.

“I’m sorry darling,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your nose so gently it feels like a butterfly brushed your flushed skin. “You just looked too beautiful not to admire.”

The compliment makes heat bloom onto your face, but as quickly as your expression melted into a love-stricken one, it morphs into pleasure as you gasp, feeling him push his fat cock into your needy hole.

“Fuck—so tight,” he mumbles, slowly bottoming out. “Are you alright, darling? Do you need a minute?” Zhongli huffs, brows pinched together as he exerts his self-control to not just ram himself into you immediately. You shake your head quickly, jaw slack, desperately trying to create more friction against your g-spot.

“Please just—” you choke on your words, feeling him pull back and thrust into you again in one swift movement, the slap of skin against skin making your skin burn with both arousal and embarrassment.

Zhongli’s right hand slides down to pull your shirt up over your chest, and almost immediately he gropes your breast, groaning at the feeling of the fat of your tit spilling out from between his fingers.

“So good to me,” he praises, amber gaze burning into you, studying your expression to burn it within his mind. “I can feel you clenching around me.”

He swallows, trying so hard not to bust right then and there. “D’you want to cum, darling? Are you close?”

Whimpering, you grab his left wrist and tug, looking up at him with a gasp. “Mhm,” you hum quietly, while biting your lip. Shlick sounds invade your eardrums, forcing soft little gasps to leave your lips in tandem with his thrusts.

“My sweetheart.” The Archon slides his left hand down your face to your throat, pushing down just enough to make your head feel lighter. The cold metal of his rings makes a shiver run up your spine, and as you choke out a gasp, Zhongli brings his other hand down between your bodies to rub your clit.

“Go on, cum for me darling.” He grunts, shutting his eyes to hold his impending orgasm back. “P-Please, need to feel that gorgeous pussy milking me before I do,” he breathes out, focusing on the pressure he kept on your throat.

Your eyelids flutter; and as your eyes roll up to the back of your head, you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts, clenching dangerously around his shaft. He thrusts once, twice, and you feel the dam snap as you gush around him, your back arching clean off the bed. You claw at his arms, writhing against the bed as moans leave your throat in waves in rhythm with your orgasm.

Zhongli’s brows furrow and his thrusts slow as you cum, but right as he blinks the bleariness away and meets your glossy, fucked-out gaze, he feels his heart clench.

“Haah, m-my love—”

Unable to speak a warning into existence, he shoots his load into you, painting your walls white with thick, warm cum. Pretty moans leave him as his head droops down to the junction of your neck, and his hips stutter while instinctively pushing his cum deeper into you, overstimulating both you and himself.

“Z-Zhongli, ‘s too much,” you whimper, pressing your palms onto his clothed chest—a poor attempt of pushing him away. “Too full...!”

Reluctantly, he gives you some breathing room and sits on his haunches to catch his breath. Watching your cunt flutter around nothing, he hums, pressing his hand on your lower stomach to watch the cum pool down the sheets with a hungry gaze. “Mm, I beg to differ,” he coos, flashing you a smirk. “There’s plenty of space left still.”

Your limbs rest numbly as you lay there on your shared bed, completely breathless. Your gaze flickers to the hand he kept on top of your stomach, and your pussy instantly clenches at the sight.

“Then... how about round two?”

v. taglist — @leiselotte, @sukunadckrider, @moraxnomora, @skylar896, @callinz, @animecinnamonroll99 , @pe4rl-diver, @kimisukimimi, @casuallynotthirsty, @coffee-ground-bones

#mdni and support creators dividers by the goat cafekitsune #again i cant Not yap im so sorry #when will catscidr stop with the unnecessary exposition. We Dont Know #ill try to stop and js go /mostly/ straight to smut next week #im sorry exposition is basically just foreplay to me #and foreplay is IMPORTANT!!!#geto x reader #kenjaku x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #cw dubcon #kinktober 2024

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seraphicloves · 4 months ago

Text

𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: getting a curse that makes you horny is not how you expected your day to turn out....espeically when if means your friends have to help you deal with your situation

⊱✿⊰ warnings: straight up smut, pơrn w plot, aphrodisiacs, this could sort of be considered dub-con but i still believe it is consensual, also this is written by a minor so if u don't want that u can leave, don't report jst block chat, nobara teaching the boys abt girls bodies, simp boys, unprotected sex (be careful irl pls 🙏)

⊱✿⊰ notes: i went from writing slightly suggestive to a freaking foursome but im slay for it okay. i apologize if this sucks i do not know how to write sexual stuff but i had this dream and it was FIRE. Also i have seen like five episodes of this show so try not to give spoilers and i apologize if this is not how curses work 😭 if adults interact imma be weirded out bc these characters r my age 🤨

if you know me (other than skye) don't talk to me abt this unless ur happy im shy enough as it is 💀

you hadn't realized you had even been affected by the curse that hit you earlier until you were on the way to the academy. it was a strange sort of descent to suddenly have your skin feverishly warm and a white hot need coiling deep in your gut. you were practically shaking by the time you reached jujustu high.

you stumbled towards your dorm, ignoring the way any sort of friction against your core made you want to whimper like a cat in heat. your underwear was well on the way of being utterly soaked and your foggy brain couldn't even bother to care.

"you okay, [name]?" yuji asked, his sturdy hand wrapping around your waist when your knees started to buckle. you bit your tongue hard enough to draw small drops of blood to prevent the needy sigh from escaping your lips. he was so strong and he was so sweet, his gentle smile making you wish it was between your thighs.

"i'm fine...just exhausted." you managed to grit out, unable to disguise the thick strain on your voice. maybe you were going insane, because why else would you be feeling this...horny?

"i'd wager you're more than exhausted." megumi piped in, his intense stare sending electricity straight to your core. he walked forward, with nobara not far behind, his mouth in a set line. he continued, "you are being affected by an aphrodisiac inflicted by an incubus."

nobara gave you a sneaky smile coming closer and sliding her arms around your waist and pulling you against your body. you couldn't help the whimper that you released when you felt her warm breath against your cheek.

"you horny, baby?" she purred, making your jaw drop slightly. oh, so she knows. you looked at her shyly, give her a little nod.

"that's what an aphro whatever does?" yuji asked, his chest still firmly pressed into your back. megumi nodded, his eyes darting between how you're sandwiched between nobara and yuji.

"h-how do i make it go away?" you piped up, internally cursing at the tone of your voice. it was thick with need, heavy with lust. maybe you should google how to bury oneself alive? that would be better than this embarrassing situation.

"you need to orgasm, at the very least once. but it will probably require quite a few tries." megumi explained, calmly as if he wasn't talking about his classmate cumming. before you knew it, you were sitting on megumi's bed. nobara and yuji must have led you to his room while he was talking.

"your arms are almost like jelly, honey." nobara noted, picking up your limp arm before letting it drop to your side, "why don't you let us take care of this for you?"

this time megumi, yuji, and you all paused. even through the gnawing desire to be railed you were still surprised at the suggestion. yuji's jaw dropped and megumi blushed, both of their reactions endearing if you were in a better state of mind.

"i have heard far too much about how both of these losers want to fuck you but are too wimpy to do anything. and i wouldn't mind making my girl feel good." nobara sat on the bed beside you and let her hands drift down your thighs. you shivered, parting them almost instinctively.

megumi shot nobara a glare like he was pissed his secret had been revealed and yuji gave you a sheepish smile. both boths came closer until everybody was sitting on the bed.

"you should still be in good conscious to consent." megumi said, his eyes burning into the spot where your legs were spread ever so slightly. your skirt was rising slightly, more of your skin revealed. "do you feel comfortable with this, [name]?"

suddenly you felt all pairs of eyes on you, making arousal seep into your underwear and rendering them positively destroyed. even with your body weak and full of animalistic need, you still had a mostly coherent thought process.

"please, yes please." you stuttered out, looking down at your lap with a shy expression.

nobara grinned deviously at your consent before pulling you onto her lap, pressing your back into her chest. she leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck and her hands drifting down your body.

"just relax, we're gonna make you feel real good." she said spreading your legs and lifting up your skirt to show off your underwear. normally you would be embarrassed that megumi and yuji were kneeling in front of you and staring directly at your cloth covered pussy. but you were far too gone to comprehend a single thing.

your underwear was fully soaked, a massive wet spot on them and the smell of your arousal wafting through the air. nobara kept kissing your neck, nibbling at the supple skin as her nimble fingers hooked around the waistband and slipped your underwear off.

your cunt was weeping for attention, puffy folds and twitching clit. your arousal was dripping down your legs, onto megumi's sheets. although he seemed too enthralled with your aching hole to care about the mess you were making.

a sharp gasp escaped your lips when nobara's fingers met your clit, rubbing it gently and in circular motions. as though their eyes had an invisible touch, the intense focus of both megumi and yuji added extra stimulation to your body.

"see this? this is like the key to the treasure chest." nobara said, still steadily rubbing that little bundle of nerves. you wiggled in her lap, trying to stop the embarrassing whimpers from escaping.

"does that feel good, [name]?" yuji asked, his hand suddenly reaching out to grab your thigh and keep you from wriggling out of nobara's hold. his touch was gentle but fuck was he strong.

you nodded and let out a little moan as nobara fingers slipped to your slit, collecting the wetness before teasing your hole. it eagerly tried to suck her digits in, aching to be filled.

"needy, are we?" megumi noted, the goregous rumble of his voice sending vibrations straight to your cunt. it clenched around nothing, showing off your horniness to your entire friend group. dear lord you were about to be fucked by all your friends.

finally nobara sunk her slender fingers in your cunt, the pads of her digits massaging the gummy walls. your toes curled and your back arched, a sigh of pleasure and relief filling the air like a lustful breeze. she grinned against your neck, going back to kissing you as she dipped her fingers in and out.

your pussy shamlessly gushed as she did this, loud enough you were sure the entire world could hear how well you were being fingered. not to mention the pretty little gasps and sighs that slipped between your parted lips.

"fuck," yuji grunted and your eyes fell from staring at the ceiling to him. his hand was cupping his massive bulge through his pants, his brown eyes blown out wide with lust. megumi wasn't fairing much better with a bright red face and parted lips he kept wetting.

"c'mon pretty girl, you gonna cum for me?" nobara purred, her free hand drifting from your waist to slipping under your shirt. she found your tits beneath your shirt and bra, rolling your hardened nipple between two of her digits.

your body suddenly tensed, walls clenching around her slender fingers as they curled right at the spongey point of pleasure. your cunt practically sucked her fingers in as it gushed around them. your jaw slightly dropped as your long wanton moan filled the room like a symphony of your pleasure.

"good girl." nobara praised while megumi and yuji stared at you with wide eyes. with a sudden shyness, you realized you might have been the first girl to have cum in front of them.

even with the orgasm you still felt that burn in your core and slick dripping down your thighs, like the needy whore you were. your mind was fuzzy with lust, pussy aching to be filled yet again.

"megumi, how about you fuck our princess?" nobara suggested, still rolling your senstive nub between her fingers as though to appease you while you waited, "and yuji, fill her mouth so she can't be too loud, yeah?"

the two boys agreed and suddenly you were being placed flat on the bed. your uniform was being stripped off by all three hands, leaving you naked and vulnerable soon.

megumi lifted your legs and spread them a bit more, you whining as the cool air brushed against your leaking cunt. he groaned softly, his raging hard on rubbed against your thigh.

he unzipped his pants enough for his cock to spring out, a pretty pink color with precum leaking out of the reddish tip. then he fixed your position, stroking his dick and rubbing the tip aganist your weeping slit. you whimpered, wriggling your hips like it would make it magically slip inside..

"shit," megumi hissed as he finally sunk his length into your pussy. you whined loudly as he finally filled you up, your back arching in attempts to get him deeper.

suddenly your eyes snapped upwards when you felt yuji's cockhead pressing into your lips. eagerly you parted them, tongue sticking out to lick the precum oozing out. yuji let out a soft sigh as you finally let him in, tongue exploring the large mass inside your mouth.

nobara wasn't feeling excluded at all it seemed, with the way her hands wandered to play with your tits. she smirked, watching the erotic scene unfold in front of her.

you felt almost like a ragdoll, getting fucked on both sides. megumi's thrusts were long and teasing, sliding almost all the way out before slamming all the way in again. whereas yuji was erratic and passionate, carelessly fucking your throat.

it was possibly the hottest and strangest situation you have ever found yourself in.

your moans were muffled by yuji's cock, mixed in with the soft gags of being filled up so entirely. everything felt so lewd, squelching of your cunt being hammered into by megumi and the slurps of you intently sucking yuji off.

nobara wasn't too upset about not getting "her turn" yet especially since she would prefer to have you get her off when it's just the two of you. she was patient...for now.

suddenly yuji stilled, then he kept thrusting into your mouth with jerky movements. "fuck! I'm gonna-"

a white hot liquid squirted into your mouth. It was salty and a little bitter but not terrible tasting. you swallowed up the pink haired boy's cum, some of it dribbling down your chin. once he was done he slowly pulled out, his cock softening slowly. yuji looked at you with wide eyes, almost like you showed him jennifer laurence not sucked him off

you squeaked suddenly, returning your attention to megumi who pinched your clit. he pouted at you, as though a little annoyed yuji had held your attention for so long.

you gave him a breathless smile in-between the sighs of pleasure at his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. you didn't even know something could be that deep inside of you and yet here he was, turning your tummy inside out with his dick.

"i want you to cum at the same time as me. can you do that for me, princess?" megumi said, speeding up his sensual pace. his hips snapped up to meet yours quicker now, his nimble fingers rolling and rubbing your sensitive nub in all the ways that made you certain you would explode.

with a final flick to your clit, you moaned his name and your walls squeezed around his cock. as thought triggered by your orgasm you felt his warm seed spurting inside your core, filling you up. he fucked you both through your highs, keeping his creamy cum inside your pussy.

a small whine fell from your sore throat at the empty feeling where megumi's dick used to be. however you felt that almost agonizing burn started to fade, satisfied by what you had been giving.

"aw baby." nobara cooed, gently petting the top of your unruly hair, "let us clean you up. you must be so tired from all that, yeah?"

you nodded slowly, allowing the boys to distangle from your body and allow nobara instruct them on how to clean you properly. you only started to drift off when you felt the trio cuddle around you, with nobara laying on your tummy, megumi spooning you from behind and yuji in the front. the warmth of your friends (with benefits?) coaxed your exhausted body to sleep.

hopefully you wouldn't have to ever think about the consequences of this....or at least until morning.

#❀ lori writes #❀ lori smut #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #yuji itadori x reader #yuji x reader #yuji itadori #jjk yuji #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #jjk nobara #nobara kugisaki #jujutsu kaisen nobara

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ilguna · 1 year ago

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Can you do prompt 11 from aisle 1 with peeta or finnick? Like reader or whoever u choose is almost killed in the games then they get yelled at n stuff🩷🙏

☼ bloody flowers (Peeta Mellark) ☼

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, blood, ehh gore, weapon use. peeta’s mean.

wc; 2.3k

prompt; 11. yelling at them because they thought they’d lose them.

notes; no katniss, roles for mockingjay are reversed.

—

“I’m going to try to tap a tree.” You tell Peeta and Finnick, breaking the silence.

Finnick is on his feet, slowly wading further into the saltwater, carefully rubbing it on his skin to ensure he’s got all the poison out. He barely looks over his shoulder to acknowledge what you’ve said, nodding. He’s having a hard time speaking, his throat is raw from the amount of fog he breathed in.

As you get to your feet, brushing the sand from your skin, Peeta looks over at you, eyebrows drawing in. “Let me make the hole first. You stay with him, you’re better friends.”

“That’s not…” You shake your head, but he’s heading into the jungle, knife in hand.

When you turn your head to look at Finnick—afraid that he’s heard what Peeta said—you can’t find him immediately. You shuffle forward in the sand, eyes searching the water. You spot him beneath the surface, easing your anxiety.

With that, you leave him be. You trust that he won’t accidentally drown himself, since he’s the best swimmer out of your group. And he’s going to need some time alone, after losing Mags to the fog in the jungle.

It was quick, you didn’t even have time to intervene. Finnick saw that you were struggling to carry Mags down the slope, after the two of you had switched, because Peeta was entirely too heavy to be leaning on you for support. In the brief break you took to regain your strength, Mags kissed Finnick goodbye and walked straight into the fog.

What happened didn’t register until Finnick was pulling you to your feet, ordering you to grab one side of Peeta, so the two of you could work together. You don’t have to say anything to Finnick to know that he’s hurt, the look on his face alone is a dead giveaway.

You find your melted jumpsuit strewn in the sand, alongside Finnicks and Peetas. It had been ripped off of you by Peeta, who was so desperate to get you in the water, that he’d forgotten how much it’d hurt being submerged. It could’ve been worse, you weren’t covered in nearly as much of the fog as Finnick had been.

You crouch next to Peeta’s suit, flipping it over to find the mockingjay pin still holding on tightly. You unhook it from his clothes, and move to pin it to the front of your undershirt to hold onto it for him. You then reach to touch the gold necklace to make sure that it’s still hanging around your neck.

The floatation belts seem to have not been affected by the fog at all. They look brand new, actually. You pull it around your waist, buckling it back on. As much as you’d wish to leave it, you’re not the best swimmer in the alliance. Peeta and Finnick are far better, which is why they’ll feel comfortable enough to leave theirs behind.

You stand again, stretching your arms above your head, feeling the soreness throughout your body. And then, you reach to pull the hair tie out to let your hair down, which has been severely damaged by the fog. Barely touching it, clumps come out, stuck between your fingers. The sight is only slightly nauseating. You comb your hair the best you can, watching as the collection grows. When it seems to have slowed, you pull your hair back into a ponytail, and fling the dead hair into the trees.

Speaking of which, Peeta’s found a good one ten yards in from the beach. You can hardly see him through the trees, but the sound of him drilling is unmistakable. You keep an eye on him the best you can, but Finnick splashing around is distracting.

He stretches, slowly, testing his limbs to see if they’re working properly. Gradually, he begins to swim, which is mesmerizing to watch. It’s nothing like the way you were taught to. There’s a rhythm, a pace. He dives, surfaces, rolls like a log of wood in water. He sprays from his mouth, and then he’ll sit underwater for minutes at a time.

When he finally comes back up, he looks better than he did earlier. He pushes his hair out of his face, walking in your direction.

You offer him a smile, “Feeling better?”

“Considerably.” He says, eyes finding the pin on your tank top. He touches it, squinting slightly. “Left the token, huh?”

“He knew I’d grab it.” You wave him off. “Let’s go help him, he’s going to need the spile.”

Finnick leads the way into the jungle, you follow behind him, fiddling with the necklace. He holds the trident to his side, the pole bouncing off his thigh when he takes steps too hard. You briefly look away to pop the locket clasp open, suddenly afraid that the fog might’ve damaged the delicate photos inside. You slam straight into Finnick’s back, having to catch yourself on his shoulder.

A question raises on your tongue, but he presses a finger against his lips to keep you quiet. He looks upward, into the branches that belong to the trees that hang above you lowly. You follow his gaze curiously, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of what’s been watching you.

You press your lips together, your left hand falling from your necklace, and your right readjusting the sword in your hand. There’s a mass of orange monkeys weighing down the branches. More than just five or ten, there’s easily two dozen, sitting there, waiting for one wrong move.

This isn’t the first time you’ve seen them. There was a pair of them right after you’d escaped the fog, Peeta had pointed them out. Those ones retreated, not wanting anything to do with the three of you. These ones don’t have any intentions on leaving.

“Peeta,” Your voice wavers slightly, Finnick glances at you. You take a breath, “I need your help with something on the beach.”

“Just a minute (Y/n). I think I’ve just about got it.” He tells you, still occupied with the tree. “Have you got the spile?”

“I do, but we’ve found something you might want to see.” You murmur, noticing how the monkeys are reacting to Peeta’s movements. They don’t care if you move. “Only move toward us quietly, so you don’t startle it.”

“I don’t want to lose the tree.”

“We won’t, we’ll be right back.” You tell him, motioning for him to come toward you.

He lets out a sigh, but listens. You chew on the inside of your cheek, listening to the noise he’s making. Still, the monkeys don’t move, because that’s not what causes them to be aggressive. He’s only five yards from the beach, when his movements become stiff, eyes darting up for a second.

It’s enough. The shrieking begins, as the monkeys all begin to move at an impossible speed to jump at him. They slide down vines, leaping large distances, fangs bared, claws shooting out. One word comes to mind.

“Mutts!” You snap, shoving past Finnick to get to Peeta.

You swing the sword carelessly, hitting the vital parts of the monkeys the best you can with the amount flying out of the trees. When you make it to Peeta, the two of you switch weapons, him slapping the knife into your hand for you to take so he can begin to do real damage with the sword.

Peeta’s got a better technique, bringing down almost as much as Finnick is with the trident. He’ll spear the mutts, and then fling them aside, off into the trees. The three of you form a triangle formation, trying to kill them efficiently. Only, you can’t keep up with your knife, they’re forced to cover you.

You feel a pair of teeth sink into your thigh before Peeta’s slicing through the throat, forcing the jaws to unhinge. The air grows heavy, from the trampled plants, the scent of blood, and the musty stink of the monkey mutts that hound you.

Peeta swings at one of them, and instead of landing the hit, the monkey secures the sword, and throws it into the trees, permanently making it out of the question. Then, it grabs a tight hold of Peeta’s arm, and swings him out of the formation, in the open. Where another monkey spots this, sprinting for the kill.

You begin to run for him, throwing the knife at the mutt that’s racing you. The mutt manages to dodge the attack, and you’re about to throw yourself at Peeta to save him, when someone else beats you to it, first. A woman materializes out of a tree, screaming loudly as she throws herself into the monkey, arms wrapping around its body.

It sinks its fangs into her chest.

Finnick’s trident hits the monkey with such force that it makes a loud squelching sound when the trident collides with its body. The mutt releases its jaw, Peeta kicking the body off.

“Come on, then!” Peeta shouts. “Come on!”

The mutts don’t seem to be interested anymore, retreating into the trees the same way they had done before. You reach to grab Peeta, hands shaking, when he suddenly points toward the beach, eyes hard.

“Go.”

Your mouth pops open, eyebrows drawing in, but you don’t argue, walking the five yards out of the jungle, onto the beach. The two boys follow behind you, with Finnick carrying the woman, who you’re able to recognize as the morphling from District Six, when you get a good look at her.

Finnick lays her in the sound, and Peeta follows behind him with your knife. He kneels next to her, cutting open the wetsuit that covers her chest, revealing the four deep wounds. Her blood is slowly emerging out of them, staining her skin. You’d say she’s fine, if it weren’t for the damage the monkeys did inside of her body.

She’s gasping for air, struggling to breathe. This could mean a punctured lung, maybe even her heart. Her skin is shaded a sickly green, sagging to reveal each one of her ribs. This is caused by years of abusing the pain medication.

She takes your hand shakily, squeezing tightly to ground herself. You lean over her, moving the hair out of her face.

“I’ll watch the trees.” Finnick says before walking away.

Peeta settles in the sand, voice soft, “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.”

She stares at Peeta, hanging on to every word.

“One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one.”

Her breathing is growing shallow, calming, dying. Her free hand dips into the wound on her chest, touching the blood as she swirls it on her skin, the same way she had in the Training Center.

“I haven’t figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have enough time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. And then they fade away again. Back into the air.”

She lifts up the bloodied hand, painting a flower on Peeta’s cheek.

“Thank you,” He whispers. “That looks beautiful.”

Her face lights up, as she makes a small squeaking sound. And then her hand falls back onto her chest, giving out her last huff of air. The cannon fires. Her hand loosens in yours.

You sit there in the sand, watching as Peeta carries her into the water, carefully settling her on her back. She floats toward the Cornucopia, and when the Gamemakers are sure she’s a good distance away, the hovercraft appears to take her away. The claw drops, carrying her into the night sky, and she’s gone.

You get to your feet when Peeta comes back your way, but with the look on his face, you’re not exactly eager to touch him.

“What were you thinking?” He asks you. “Running at me like that. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Your mouth opens as you shake your head. “I—the mutt was coming right for you, I thought—”

“You thought what, (Y/n)? You were going to kill it with this?” He asks, holding your knife out for you to see. It’s stained red, sand sticking to the blood that refuses to dry. “Oh no, that’s right, you threw it at the mutt.”

You stare at him. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“No, not okay!” he shouts. “Were you even thinking?”

“I just—”

“I don’t need you trying to be the hero.” He tells you. “I had it handled.”

“I’m sorry, Peeta.”

“Don’t do it again.” He says, shaking his head. “It’s hard enough keeping you safe when you’re not running into danger. So don’t start doing it on purpose.”

“I won’t.”

He looks over your face, judging whether or not you’re being truthful, when his eyes dip toward your chest. His face smooths, holding his hand out, palm up. “Give me the pin.”

Wordlessly, you unhook it from the cloth and place it in his hand. “I didn’t want to lose it.”

“That’s fine.” He says, closing the distance between the two of you. He directs your chin up carefully, raising his eyebrows. “You know I love you.”

“I know.” You whisper. “I’ll be more careful.”

He presses a kiss to the middle of your forehead. “That’s all I ask.”

—

this is part of my 3k celebration!! you can join until the cure is released on October 31st, at midnight!! everyone is welcome to join :)

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aerequets · 1 month ago

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Ur art is such an inspiration and motivation for me, as a fellow artist. I’ve been following ur stuff for a bit now and I was wondering how you decided to draw loid, yor, and anya the way you do. I say this bc I really want to start making my own fan arts, but i struggle to take this anime style and have these character read as [insert character] without it being in a “anime style.”

And I guess this applies to any character you want take from a media, and translate it into your style. Bc i don’t necessarily think ur art style is considered “anime” i kinda just see it as an abstraction ig. But even if it is, it isn’t in the style of anime show is yk? Yet the characters read as who they’re supposed to be.

And I think a while back you u mentioned that you were struggling on decided how to draw loid. ig i wanna know How did you come to the decision that “yes, this looks correct and I wanna draw him like this.”

Is it finding defining feature and proportions? Just messing around until you figure something out? And I assume you make a character sheet to keep it consistent?

Like i literally go to art school but cant draw anything without a reference photo and it killing me 😔💀💀

Sorry for the yapp i’m just down bad rn and really love ur work. Please help be get out of the reference photo trap😭

Also sorry if this reads weird and has errors i’m sleep deprived and can’t bring myself to go back and reread

WHAIUGOUGH???? UR TOO KIND??? THANK U

i will try my best to answer below, but i dont think it is anything profound or super secret lmao

so i think that artists get really caught up with finding/establishing a style when they are first starting out. i say this because i was no different. to me it was like 'oh if i have a style then i am a Real artist instead of just a copier'

but like, i think that order is backwards. like the more that you draw things you enjoy, the more those drawings will become your own and in your 'style' if that makes sense. heavy emphasis on the quantity here. you just gotta go really at it. and the best way to do this is through sheer quantity tbh.

however at the same time, i dont really agree with the whole 'draw x things per day every day' thing cuz sometimes thats just hard man. i mean you mentioned you were in art school so you're probably drawing every day anyways, but for a hobbyist or fanartist (me lol) its mostly based on whether u feel like drawing or not. Which is why its rlly cool when you have a show/book/movie/anything you're really into which makes you want to draw more! it becomes something fun rather than a chore.

so basically, dont view a style as something you have to develop right away, or turn drawing into a chore, because that will be very counteractive trust me.

another important thing i wanted to mention, you said "reference photo trap" but ITS NOT A TRAP! USE REFERENCES!!! REFERENCES ARE IMPORTANT AND GOOD (i am assuming you already know this, but using references is not the same as tracing. just to make it clear)

this is another thing common with newer artists (and of course how i used to be), where you feel like you have to draw 'from your mind' for it to be an indicator of any skill. NOT TRUE!! you need to use references to get better!

lastly, to answer your question (as best i can lol) there was never any point when i decided 'yes this is it' when drawing. you just draw and draw and keep changing and growing. it is a little of everything you said (defining features, proportions, messing around) but it is also just drawing a lot and having fun! :D oh and i definitely do not have a character sheet. i am not anywhere near that organized LMAO

#dia talks #spy x family #my art #art advice #i guess? LMAO #asks

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animasolaoriginal · 3 months ago

Text

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️FOURTEEN

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

To say his sudden change in demeanor is confusing her, would be an understatement. Confronted with his raw strength and anger, she finds herself stuck in her own mind – until he pulls her out of it, with yet another face he's never shown her before.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Free use/power play. Rough oral sex/deepthroating/choking. Spanking with a belt. Manipulation/mind break? ANGST! (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 4.1k

A/N: It's another Angst Episode. Poor girl got it rough in this one, I apologize in advance! (Reminder that this is a fictitious D/s relationship and nowhere near what an IRL one may or should look like!)

THIRTEEN 🟥 FOURTEEN 🟥 FIFTEEN

As she chokes on his cock with how he holds her down, her tears are hot, her mind spinning from lack of oxygen and how quickly he's changed faces again. Her stomach is tense, convulsing every time he pushes his length deeper into her throat, her mouth full of spit and bile and precum, and it's all dripping down onto his expensive pants, but he doesn't seem to care.

She feels miserable all over again, her body contorted, knees pressed into the hard space between the seats, those wretched toys still humming inside her because she didn't have the gall to turn them off completely when he'd asked her to choose. And she thought it was okay, worked in her favor, would make him proud of her. He'd been so sweet, his words, his gestures, his whole demeanor. All those praises. She was surprised, wondering what happened in that sex shop after she'd passed out.

Sucking him off in the elevator had been exciting instead of frightening, it had felt as if they'd have a bond now, she was his, and he was there for her, holding her, caressing her, comforting her. Of course he would ask her for things, and she would have happily sucked him off in the car as well, in her own pace, but he had seemed almost desperate, or angry, when he had forced her onto his cock.

She's confused. Why is he so rough again? What did she do? Did she make him angry after all? He denied it before, but maybe he's lied?

Her gurgling sounds fill the car, drown out even the engine, but at least they are proof that she is still here, still drawing breath, even if it's through her stuffed nose, in the rare moments he pulls her up by her hair only to push her back down again a few seconds later to take his cock all over again. Her throat feels raw, her lips strained and swollen, her whole body is tense, additionally fighting the sensations of the toys buzzing inside her.

The day has started in the worst way possible, had its few ups after that, but why is she even surprised about this anymore? He's treated her like this before, many times, oblivious and uncaring of her discomforts. It's her purpose after all, isn't it? To be his toy? But she still feels betrayed, disappointed, deeply disturbed.

She sniffles, another sudden gag reflex making her convulse so badly she feels her spit erupting from her nose. He still doesn't care, just keeps pushing and pulling her head, using her mouth like the hole it presumably is for him. She can't decide if she wants to sob and wail or just give in and choke already.

Somehow she loses all track of time, becomes numb eventually, lets him fuck her throat until he finally stills, his hand heavy on her head, pushing her down so much his pubic hair tickles in her nose while his balls spasm against her lips as he empties himself deep into her throat, his cum warm and sticky as the rest of it drips down and joins the mess she's already made on his pants.

He pulls her off and pushes her back into the passenger seat, where she slumps down, wiping at her mouth and nose before she succumbs to the misery burning within her, sobs, hiccups and quiet wails erupting from her hurting throat. She hears him scoffing, and when she looks over through hooded eyes and clumped lashes, he shakes his head, his face stern and hard as he wipes at his ruined pants.

“Look at the mess you made,” he says, his other hand flexed around the steering wheel.

“M'sorry,” she mutters hoarsely, forcing herself to move closer, ready to try to clean him up somehow, ignoring the sting inside her that comes either from her hurt feelings or the buzzing toys that she just can't ignore no matter how hard she tries. They always keep moving, rubbing against each other, poking deep and hard into her tense muscles, and she keeps clenching around them, already knowing she'd be sore later.

“Not good enough.” His voice cuts through her struggles, and she meets his dark gaze. Gone is the warmth she's found there earlier.

She sniffles again, wiping at her nose. Despite her misery, she feels that tiny bit of defiance flaring up inside her again. How dare he make her responsible for the mess when he'd been the one to force her to gag on his freaking cock the entire time! Where was she supposed to leave all the spit he created in her when he didn't allow her to swallow? Or breathe? She was fighting for her life while he tried to chase his pleasure. How is that fair?

A jerk goes through the car as he stops it at the side of the road. The sun is breaking through the clouds, there's a forest on one side, a wide field on the other. No other car around. She stares at him in confusion.

“Get out,” he then tells her, and she freezes, a deep shiver crashing through her.

“No,” she whispers, not as response, but in shock. He won't just leave her here, right? In the middle of nowhere? With no means to get anywhere? He can't!

His gaze darkens, his face getting harder. When he suddenly opens his door and gets out, her eyes follow his motion while she's too stunned to react properly, and when he rips her door open and grabs her arm, she can only yelp, pushing her feet down, fighting him a bit too much.

“No, please! Please, don't leave me!”

Her wail makes him freeze, a frown appearing on his stern face. “I'm not gonna leave you,” he clarifies, voice as rough as the grip on her arm as he drags her to the back of the car and bends her over it.

The warm metal burns through the thin fabric of her dress, her hands squeak on it as she tries to find purpose in her new position. Breathing hard and still crying, she can't see or hear much of what he is doing behind her, but then something hard and cold and somehow also hot and unyielding meets the back of her thigh, and she is screaming.

The pain is so intense that her vision reddens, her body jerking against the car, her head spinning out of control. It's a burning pain, a sting, her skin throbbing and tightening, and when it repeats on her other thigh, a whistle in the air, then a sharp crack, she knows it's his belt, the realization gone as soon as the pain crashes through her once more. And one more time, and one more, and she wails and sobs and cries and screams, her sounds echoing fruitlessly through the empty space around them.

He's only hitting the backs of her thighs, just below where the harness is draped around her butt cheeks, left and right, never the same spot twice. She feels her skin positively burning, and she's afraid it's all an open wound now, bleeding and oozing and never whole again. It certainly feels like it.

Eventually he lets up and lowers the belt, then moves his fingers over the abused skin. She whines breathlessly, unable to cry any more, the pain that throbbing thing all around her.

His hand hooks around her arm and pulls her back up, and she leans against him, her legs trembling too much to keep her upright. “W-why?” she croaks out.

“Why did I belt you?” he replies, his voice low and close to her ear. “Why not?”

She stiffens, slowly turns her head to him, blinking the last tears away. “What?”

“Do I have to give you my reasons for punishing you?” he snarls, clenching his jaw.

She stares at him, wondering where the man has gone who has told her he can't believe he'd deserve something as sweet as her. He seems so different now. Dark and dangerous, angry and mocking, unreasonable and mean.

“Y-yes!” she protests with the last bit of strength left in her as she clings to his arm. “I need to know what I did wrong! I want to be better!” Her voice is a feeble thing in the air, shrill and panicked, hoarse from screaming.

“What if I told you you didn't do anything wrong? What if I told you I just felt like hurting you? Hmm, what then?” he says gravelly, glaring at her. “You don't get to be better, it doesn't matter, you are a fucking toy for me to use whenever I want, understood?” He's raised his voice so quickly, she was flinching by the end of it, whining in confusion. “Understood?” he yells again, and she cries out, covering her ears while whimpering: “Yes, sir!”

Her reaction makes him pause, his eyebrows furrowing, before he rips her hands away from her head and drags her back around the car. Before he shoves her onto the seat, he hesitates, and she braces for more pain, but he just stands behind her, tall and intimidating, a deep shadow keeping the sun away from her.

And suddenly he pulls her back, closes the passenger door with a loud thud, then rips open the door behind it, before he points to the backseat. “Lie down, on your stomach, keep your thighs off the seat.”

Still more than confused and frankly hopelessly overwhelmed and aching in more ways than one, she follows the harsh words and crawls onto the seat, careful not to get her burning skin into contact with anything. She's now almost convinced he's belted her bloody, why else should she keep her wounds off the seat? And what if she makes a mess again? Will he punish her once more? Not that he needs a reason, apparently.

His reply still haunts her, that anger in his voice, the darkness in his eyes, the loathing in his words. She is at his mercy, she's always been, but he's never been this brutal with her. Or maybe he has but she never perceived it as such? Forcing his hard length into her virgin ass? Taking her in her sleep? Choking her on his cock? All of that was brutal, rough, but somehow she's never seen it. Maybe because he's given her something back, cared for her afterwards.

But belting her for no reason? Even though her insides have clenched around the toys with every hit, there has not been anything in it for her. It was only violence, pure and raw, and she doesn't understand it. She's just serviced his cock, made him come in her throat, let him do all that to her like a good toy, so why was he so angry with her?

Tears burn in her eyes again as she tries to find a comfortable position on the backseat, while she listens to him close the door and slip back behind the wheel. She rests her spinning head on her folded arms and closes her eyes, lets the hum of the engine distract her from the throbbing pain in her legs.

He drives for quite a while, and it's just this monotonous rumble beneath her. She's too wired to fall asleep, still too confused to make sense of anything. So she doesn't question it when he eventually stops the car and gets out without a word, locking it with a soft click, leaving her to stew in her dark thoughts.

Time passes, and she has no idea how much, and it doesn't matter. Her thighs are still aflame, her skin tight and stinging, and every single movement hurts. But what hurts even more is the betrayal she feels. She's done everything he's asked, and he still hurts her like this? Because he can? Is this what she signed up for by submitting to him? It doesn't make sense...

The thud of the trunk being closed rips her from her clouded mind, and she carefully turns her head a little until he slips into her line of sight when he sits back down behind the wheel and starts the engine. He drives off again, God knows where to, and still doesn't say a word, doesn't even acknowledge her.

The silence only adds to the dark void that seems to be eating her from within. A sniffle escapes her, and she stiffens at the sound, sinking back into herself, making herself as small as she can on the backseat. He doesn't react though, just keeps driving, the hum of the engine and the rumble of the tires the only sounds around her.

She is positively miserable by the time he finally stops the car again. It's all darkness, weighted darkness that pulls her down, keeps her at the bottom, in the pit of doubts and hurt and sorrow. And there he finds her, his hands tight around her waist as he pulls her backwards off the seat, not in a threatening way, but almost careful. She can't move anyway, doesn't want to, too far gone in her own mind to register anything anymore.

He scoops her up in his arms, somehow managing not to touch her hurting thighs, and carries her off. She has her eyes closed, doesn't care about where they are, what he's doing. Car doors are being closed, his footsteps crunching over gravel, something creaks on rusty hinges, the air around them becomes not as fresh, but stale and warm.

He keeps her on his arms, pressed to his chest in a comforting manner, but she can't enjoy it. Why should she? That's not her purpose. The noises around her melt together, paper crinkling, floorboards creaking, and then he's sitting down somewhere soft, and she flinches when she slips onto his lap, the tight skin of the backs of her thighs pressing against his legs, but only for a moment, before he lifts her up and arranges something beneath her.

When he puts her back down, she winces again, but this time the pain is numbed immediately by something cold, a soothing sensation on her burning skin. She dares to open her eyes, blinks at the light, breathes through her nose as she looks around. The first thing she sees is the colorful bag of frozen peas beneath her, peeking through her open thighs, and she inhales deeply, trying not to shift too much on his cushioned lap, then registers his hands on her waist and on her knees, holding her.

She can't look at him just yet, so she looks around. They are in a cabin of some sort. Lots of wood, dark interior, warm, cozy. Not that she can appreciate any of it with how hollow she feels.

His loud exhale startles her, and she hunches her shoulders, bowing her head, bracing for more unnecessary violence. But he doesn't move, just breathes through his nose in a way a cornered animal would. Slowly, carefully, she tilts her chin just enough to look at him from under her lashes.

His gaze is hard and cold and intense like she's never seen before.

“Listen,” he then says, his voice hoarse and low. “I'm only gonna say this once...” She raises her head a little more and fully looks at him, her heart beating faster. “I'm sorry,” he breathes out darkly, words that should feel more genuine, that seem to cause him great discomfort, words he probably never uttered before. Her eyebrows rise up in surprise.

“I didn't mean to hurt you,” he continues, ignoring her reaction, his eyes lowered as he stares at her thighs and his big hand spanned across them. “I... okay, maybe I wanted it, but you didn't deserve it. You did nothing wrong.”

His words make her head spin. She can barely make sense of them, so she just keeps listening because he doesn't seem to be done.

“I am not a good man,” he says, his hand starting to rub over her bare legs, the touch warm and soothing, if it weren't such a loaded situation. “Maybe I wanted you to remember that. I take what I want, and sometimes...”

A groan escapes him that makes her flinch, in turn causing her to wince as she shifts on the cold albeit uncomfortable sac of hard peas. The grip of his hands gets stronger.

“You...” he starts, his eyes moving back up to meet hers. She shivers under the intensity. “You're doing things to me. You're changing me... you make me... regret things I would never have regretted before. And, baby,” he adds, his hand moving to cup her chin, gently holding it, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip, while she just stares at him, stunned by his unexpected confession. “I regret treating you like this. You've been such a good girl, maybe a little too good? But that's not your fault, do you hear me? I didn't expect you to be like this... so beautifully submissive...”

He licks his lips, his eyes wandering over her face. She's still only staring at him, unable to say or do anything, and she probably shouldn't either, no matter how much praise he has for her. Because deep down, she doesn't trust his words anymore. He could snap at any second now, just like that, unprompted, so she tries to minimize her movements and reactions to not give him any reason to hurt her again. He can, and he will, she knows it. He's unpredictable like that.

“You are too good for me,” he goes on, quietly, eyes still holding her hostage. “I definitely do not deserve you... but... as I said, I'm not a good man, I don't run on a moral compass. I take what I want, and I still want you. You're staying with me, even if you hate me now. You're mine, and mine alone.”

She should be glad he won't push her away, won't leave her like she initially feared. His possessiveness means she can continue to have the life he's promised her. The life without worries, without having to think for herself. He will care for her, he's said so, and she trusts he will continue doing so. But by punishing her for something that isn't her fault, how can she be sure he won't do it again? On a whim, because he can?

“I will try to be better,” he says, as if reading her mind, deep creases on his forehead, his eyes dark with emotion, something she's never seen before. “I won't hurt you again, not like that, I promise, okay?”

She stares at him, furrowing her eyebrows, feeling new tears burning beneath her lashes. He sounds genuine now, truly troubled by what he has done. And she may have believed him if he wouldn't have kept talking.

“I will still punish you if you don't listen to me, if you disobey, you know that, right? But I will not... let my anger out on you. I promise,” he repeats, tightening the grip of his fingers around her chin as he stares at her, and she stares back, flustered and confused, that black void inside her filled with uncertainty and doubts, grief and... sympathy?

She hates feeling miserable. And seeing him like this, regretful, concerned and visibly struggling to get these words out because he probably never had to reflect on his own actions like this before, she should hate this too. Any form of conflict she hates. But something warm settles in her stomach as she keeps watching him, how he looks at her, waiting for any kind of reaction from her. Desperate to be forgiven, or believed, or trusted again.

Well, maybe not desperate. She's sure he doesn't care that much. He could just continue the way it was, by using her however he wants without giving a damn about her. But maybe that isn't their dynamic after all. It's never been like that before. He used her, yes, without consent, rough and brutal, playing on her inexperience and her submissive nature, but he's always praised her during whatever ordeal he's made her do, cared for her afterwards.

There was a balance between all those sexual acts he forced upon her, there was light in the darkness, and sometimes the darkness wasn't as bad when he gave her something back. The times he made her come still echo in her mind, experiences she's never had before. And how he cuddled her after, caressed her, held her close, wiped away her tears, before he'd create new ones...

But that balance got disrupted by one single act of violence she still can't fully comprehend. He was angry because she's changing him? But isn't that a good thing? Is she taming the beast, but the beast doesn't want to be tamed? Probably. So it is her fault? But what is she supposed to do differently? He wants her to submit and she does, does what he asks of her, doesn't fuss about it, she's good, he said so. But then it's his fault for getting influenced by how good she is? Yeah, that's on him!

Caught in her own head, being none the wiser the longer she thinks about the whole situation, she keeps staring at him, breathing a bit quicker, her heart beating harder, the pain throbbing against the slowly melting bag of peas. The longer she locks eyes with him and the longer they just sit in loaded silence, the more she realizes something.

It is on her.

She is the submissive, she has to give in, it's on her to clear the tension. Of course she has no idea what that means, and if she's even right, not knowing anything about the matter anyway, but it's what feels right. She knows he won't do anything more, he's already shared his thoughts with her, which he didn't have to do, but he's tried to smooth the waters she finds herself drowning in. He did his part. Now it's on her.

Following that inborn instinct that made her submit to him in the first place, she slowly raises her hand until her shaking fingers brush against his chin, then move along his jaw before clammy little fingertips press against the tense muscle on his cheek. He flexes it beneath her touch, eyes following her every move.

Shifting on his lap (and the peas), she turns to put her other hand on his shoulder, anchoring herself, ignoring the pain of the burning welts on her skin, the toys buzzing away inside her, all the voices in her head telling her to turn the other way, to run, to get away, to stop.

But she doesn't stop, she pulls herself closer, cups his face and tilts it downwards slightly. And he lets her, the creases relaxing, and when she leans in fully to press her lips to the corner of his mouth, he closes his eyes and sighs deeply, his breath warm on her lips.

His arms close around her body, pressing her against him, as he mirrors the gesture and brushes his lips against her cheek. “I'm sorry,” he whispers barely audible, despite not wanting to repeat himself, and it makes her smile softly.

“I know, it's okay,” she replies quietly, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him another peck, before his mouth finds hers fully for a slow but searing kiss.

Parting her lips, she lets his tongue in and meets it with the same slowly growing hunger, and as her mind empties, all those doubts and fears and confusing thoughts pushed into the back once again, she finds herself forgiving him, and she knows she shouldn't, she can hear the voices telling her not to, to hold a grudge, to not trust him, to keep fighting, but this is her life now.

He is her life now. He is all she has, and she can't afford to let this go, let him go, to lose this. She needs him, she knows that now. The strength in his arms, the warmth in his body, the affection in his kisses, the power he holds over her.

She wanted this, wanted him, and if this is part of their deal, then so be it. As unhealthy and disturbing and wrong it may be. She needs it.

THIRTEEN 🟥 FOURTEEN 🟥 FIFTEEN

End notes: The rollercoaster ride continues.

Like I mentioned in the notes above, please know that this is NOT a realistic representation of a Dom/sub relationship. If anyone, Dom or not, treats their sub/partner like this, that partner has to get the hell out of there! This is abuse and manipulation and a whole lot of other bad things! (And it's not on the sub to give in like that...)

But also remember that this is FICTION, these things happen in my mind and on whatever device you are reading this on. Nobody got harmed during the making of this chapter, I swear!

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Sunday!

TAG LIST: @untamedheart81 @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN

ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

#ao3 original work #dead dove do not eat #dom/sub #d/s dynamic #praise k!nk #free use kink #older man younger woman #size difference #modern au #joel miller smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #arthur morgan smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #mattheo riddle smut #original fiction

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haetrack · 9 months ago

Note

i read no clue before i went to bed last night so ur responsible for the dream i woke up to about mark and now i have to share 🫡

mark’s never been more grateful for the giant vanity table in ur bedroom. the large mirror showing him a perfect view of ur face, scrunched up in pleasure as he’s buried in u from behind. the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room, layered over the sounds of ur moans. the table shakes with every thrust, his hands grabbing onto ur hips hard enough, ur sure it’ll leave bruises.

he burrows his face in ur neck, kissing and sucking up to ur jawline. he watches ur reflection as one of his hands leave ur hips to move to grope ur chest, squeezing ur hardened nipples. the whine it draws out of u, makes his cock twitch inside of u. “mark, please. u make me feel so good,” u whisper.

“yeah?” he mutters under a heavy breath. his hand slides down to press against ur clit, rubbing circles with the amount of pressure he’s perfected over all these times with u. his name slips out of u in a loud moan at the sudden stimulation of ur clit. he revels in the sheer mix of desperation and pleasure forming on ur face.

he presses a light kiss on ur cheek before pulling his chest away from ur back. he can tell u were so close, how could he not help his girl finish?

he pushes ur body further down onto the table, making sure to still be able to see ur face in the mirror. his hand pressing down on the hollow of ur back to keep u in place. he pulls himself out of u almost all the way, before slamming his hips into u harshly. a curse leaves ur lips, as he repeats the motion, each time getting faster and faster. ur fucked out expression encouraging him to go harder. he knows ur orgasm is near when u start clenching around him with every single thrust, sucking him in so well. angling himself to go even deeper inside of u, his cock fucking u so good that u come with his name leaving ur lips like a mantra.

the feeling of ur warm orgasm surrounding him makes him pick up his pace even more, desperate to chase his own high. it didnt take long for him to follow suit, one more look at ur pretty face, combined with the whines emanating due to the overstimulation of him still fucking into u causes his hips to stutter, shooting his cum inside u. the feeling of u being so full of him, and both of ur orgasms engulfing him.

pulling ur body back up off the table, he leans forward to exchange soft, slow kisses while u both tried to catch ur breathes. u break up the kiss, and whine in annoyance, “dude, ur gonna have to clean this up because i’m not doing it” gesturing to the mess of ur table, a few of ur collectible figurines had fallen to their side along with some makeup products that were now on the floor. mark laughs and rolls his eyes playfully before grabbing ur face to his again.

——

ANYWAY NO CLUE WAS SO GOOD LIKE WHY WAS I GETTING SHY AND GIGGLY FOR HIM LMAO. girl ur gonna make me through it with all these mark posts im catching up on. like im so sorry haechan i swear i still love u but atm i love mark more

- 🌱

YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME... I WONT BE ABLE TO HIDE MY FEELINGS FOR MARK ANYMORE... he needs me so bad... haechan go wait in the corner for a bit

just imagining him standing behind you one day watching you get ready for the little date you both are about to have. he's smiling at you, liking how calm it is as you get ready, how pretty your concentrated face looks. then there's all the little collectibles on your table, all these memories from your life, and newly framed pictures of you and mark together. he's happy to be a part of your life, smiling at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror.

he doesn't know how, but his mind wanders a bit. he wonders if he could just put his hand on your back, bend you down a little, put his hips flush to your ass, grinding into you. he bites his lip, squirming a bit as he watches you. he realizes he'd be able to see everything, how your face looks as he fucks you, how your body reacts to him. his hands are itching to reach over to you, but you call out his name, smiling as you see his pink cheeks.

and you know him so well, which would eventually lead to fucking on your vanity :)

#asks #🌱 anon #vals hard hours #mark lee hard hours #mark lee smut #nct smut #I AM NOT WELL #theres tears in my eyes #u have done it again #raised the bar for us all

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thecameronchronicles · 3 months ago

Text

Sunkissed

TW: mentions of self image issues. Angst. Heavy flirting.

SUMMARY: JJ reminds you just how beautiful he knows you are.

REQUESTED:

Anonymous Asked

Hey sooo glad ur back ☺️⭐️💗💛 idk if u take request but I love ur body positivity fics could u maybe write one with JJ and chubby reader ??☺️☺️:)))

Sunkissed

"Maybe you should just go without me..." You try to hide the disappointment in your own words but it weighs them beyond the attempt. Your eyes fall and yet JJ comes up behind you, lips on your shoulder as it worsens the tightness in your heart.

"Did you get too hot on the Pogue, princess?"

"No...I..."

"Do you need some water? Here..." He offers his and your chest tightens. Not once has your boyfriend ever made you question your worth in the curves of your figure. But being surrounded by those that are a stark contrast to that society claims you should be, you feel inadequate.

"What is it sweetheart?" He asks a hand to your waist as you shuffle away without drawing immediate attention. You pretend to need something from the cooler although the diversion only makes you feel worse when you look over your shoulder and see JJ setting his hand over his chest, a telltale sign his own anxiety was getting the best of him.

"Are you...happy?" You move quickly to him.

"You make me the happiest I've been been, JJ-"

"So if you aren't dumping me and you know I'm crazy about you, why are you acting so...distant?" He steps closer, taking your hands in his. The warm comfort, slightly calloused from the odd jobs to make ends meet, it makes you exhale in the remembrance he matters more than the thoughts in your head. It's the laughter of Sarah Cameron and Kiara Carrera that make you compare yourself again.

He slowly nods before taking your hand and leading you into the Chateau.

"JJ-"

"What is it? I wanna hear you say it."

"J-"

"Y/N. Tell me." You stand in his room, the one practically gifted to you and him by John B as you linger.

"I just...don't wanna be around them in my swimsuit."

"Good."

Your eyes water and your brows fall.

"I don't want you in your swimsuit around anyone else either. I don't want them to see how smooth and beautiful your skin is or the shape of your-" he bites his back teeth. "I have to constantly remind myself to be better for you because better is what you deserve, princess, but it takes everything I have to not either mark up your skin with my teeth and leave proof you belong to me or punch out the lights of any guy-or girl- that looks at what's mine."

"JJ..." You shake off the thought as you know his kindness has always been that. Kind. You worry being with you is a novelty. A kink even. And even if he's tender and rebellious, passionate and eager, you're worried it'll fade with either summer or the fade of interest.

"You wanna know something? I am not going to say I don't care about your body because honestly it makes me hard as hell. But what really makes me just..." He sighs, repressing something between desire and the need to prove, as he takes a step closer to you.

"What really makes me love you is that you look at me. Not through me. Not to judge me. You go along with all my jokes and pranks, you were there when everything with my dad-" he paused, you step closer when you see how it effects him.

"You know when to be strong and when to let me do that for you. You touch me and I feel like I can't control my hands...or my eyes- my mouth. I want you. I love you. But if I'm being completely honest, Y/N. What I want right now? Is you out of this swimsuit. You're right. You shouldn't wear it. Because it makes me fucking crazy and I'm already one day closer for being committed for it."

You stand in awe, his words poetic for someone who insists you read him the books he gets too bored to even try and crack open. You hate how he doesn't apply himself for what he's capable of and yet you set to prove it in how you support him everyday.

"JJ-"

"I mean it, sweetheart. I'll beg if I have to. But suit. Off." You swallow hard as he closes the door and you understand one thing as his eyes darken in lust.

Before him you were swallowed by the darkness of your insecurities. Being with JJ is like being beneath the sun. Touched and basking in its rays, you forget the worries outside of it. You are kissed by the sun, loved by it- by him. You feel the strength of his love in every touch and the confirmation of his desire by the hold of his eyes on you in any distance when you aren't in his arms.

There is no question of love. And for the days you cannot feel that for yourself, JJ reminds you every reason why you will.

One sunny kiss at a time.

MASTERLIST

#body positive fanfiction #outerbanks jj #outer banks #obx #outerbanks #outer banks jj #jjmaybank #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks angst

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pigeonp0st · 9 months ago

Note

heelloo!! uhm i was thinking could u write an agatha harkness x reader one with Agatha sees r with another person (just as closer friends but Agatha doesn’t know it). Then Agatha invites r to her house and Agatha has to bite down on their lip so hard whenever r talks about the other person, angst with happy ending please (and if your are comfortable, maybe you can add smut)?

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary:

Agatha gets jealous of your relationship with Wanda. Emotion ensues.

Warning:

Jealousy, angst (not really)

Notes:

Thanks for the request! I wrote this pretty fast and have not even read it over once…I’ll probably fix it up later…anyways! Hope you enjoy still <3 I always love an Agatha request

——

Agatha stopped Wanda for you. She brought down Westview, and forced Wanda into reality. In the process she ruined both of their fantasies; Wanda’s fantasy of a perfect life, and Agathas of all consuming power.

She did it for you. Because the prospect of power was nothing compared to the prospect of your devastation. Because you asked her to. You with your warm eyes, full of more emotion and humanity than both Agatha and Wanda have in power combined.

You asked her to, and there was no other option.

So no. She doesn’t regret it. Doesn’t regret trailing behind you and Wanda to help the Avengers, doesn’t regret following you. Can’t possibly. She doesn’t regret it, but Wanda smiles at you, leans in close, and Agatha feels a bit like she’s been betrayed. Betrayed because you smile back, and whisper something into Wanda’s ear that makes her flush a color that’s just perfect for the Scarlett Witch.

Agatha grits her teeth and returns to her book. She’s lived centuries and has never felt more childish.

It shouldn’t bother how close you and Wanda have gotten, she knows. She has no right to feel betrayed. She hasn’t done anything she’s done expecting anything more than your happiness. You aren’t hers.

You aren’t hers, and so Agatha just fumes silently in the corner of the room and imagines burning this whole damn tower down.

You don’t even know how Agatha cares, she knows. Every bit of vulnerability, love, and affection is hidden behind layers of humor and sarcasm.

You watch Agatha with distrust still because of it; wondering about alternative motives. Everyone in this god forsaken tower does, and Agatha has no idea why she’s here giving up centuries of planning for this game. These people are no different to those in Westview. Children playing dress up and pretend. All of them wearing costumes of heroes who aren’t afraid.

Cowards. All of them.

Your loud laugh draws Agatha’s attention from her page. Wanda is smiling at you with a gentleness Agatha can’t afford, and Agatha thinks, both with affection and a heavy heart; all of them but you.

She knows that despite her help she has given no one here good reason to trust her. She admits to herself that she enjoys letting them think she’s scheming—that she plays into it.

They’re just as uncaring for her as she is them. They push her away, but all you do is pull her in. To be brave and foolish is one in the same to Agatha, and she loves you for all the things she can’t afford to be.

—-

It’s only the next day that Agatha walks into the compound looking for you. She wants your help to test her potion.

She’s been visiting every day this week, and she’s beginning to feel a bit like the person she thought she wouldn’t ever be again. She’s beginning to settle into the thoughts instead of jerk away.

Then she sees you. You’re on top of Wanda, both you and her sleeping peacefully on the couch. Your head on her chest, her hand threaded in your hair, your legs intertwined.

The glass potion in Agatha’s hand shatters violently and loudly, startling only Wanda awake. She jerks and snaps her eyes towards Agatha, always on edge after being raised in war. Their eyes meet for only a second, and then both turn back to you, still sleeping peacefully.

Agatha turns on her heel. Wanda says, with a knowing that ruins her; “wait—”

Agatha, cowardly, no different than the people she despises, and never having claimed otherwise, teleports away.

—-

Agatha avoids the compound for just a week before she caves and invites you over.

She can’t bear to see Wanda, which is a new thing because usually she enjoys tormenting her. The image of her protective hand tangled in your hair, and your possessive leg thrown over her is still fresh in Agatha’s mind though.

Then there’s the text Wanda sent after Agatha left; filled with the same knowing Agatha sensed with her departure. You’re 5 years old.

(Then a bit later; whatever was in that potion melted through the compound. I hope you can magic up some money to fix your tantrum.)

Agatha, the picture of wisdom, sends Wanda two middle fingers and then blocks her.

So, naturally, she’s glad when you show up only an hour after Agatha’s text. No Wanda, for the first time in weeks.

At least—that’s what Agatha expected. It’s an hour later and all you’ve talked about is Wanda. Wanda this, Wanda that. Agatha has always had a challenge with patience, it’s always the biggest challenge of her schemes, and biting on her lip is barely constraining her from lashing out at this point.

It’s when Agatha tones your voice out though, that she notices the hunch to your shoulders, the heaviness in your eyes.

And the bruise around your neck. Why hadn’t she noticed sooner? “Who did this to you?”

Agatha drops her dishes immediately, rushing to where you’re seated at the kitchen island. She thinks; who, who, with a desperate frustration as she tilts your head up to inspect the injury. She’ll kill them. Kill them.

For now, she pulls her magic forward, setting to the task of healing the violence inflicted on you, but you pull away from Agatha just as suddenly as she calls on her magic; angry in a way Agatha is caught off guard by.

“All you are is hot and cold,” you mutter, looking away. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days and you haven’t responded, then I come as soon as you call and you ignore me for an hour. Now…now you suddenly care that I’m hurt?”

Agatha blinks, once, twice, and then you’re standing up and pacing her kitchen. Agatha stands, hand still hovering where it was touching your cheek, and watches.

“If you’re done—If you’ve already gotten what you needed from us, whatever it is, and are done, just tell me. Tell me and stop pretending to care,” you plead. Agatha notices the dark circles under your eyes. Notices all the parts of you that are dimmed now that she’s not stuck on Wanda, Wanda. “I can’t play pretend like you do, Ag. I don’t get what it serves you to act like you care about me. I have nothing to offer.”

You’re spiraling in the middle of Agatha’s kitchen, and Agatha is torn between all of the parts of herself. The one that wants to laugh and brush this all aside, the one that wants to comfort you, the one that wants to kiss you, and the one she settles on; the version of her that’s angry and feeling misunderstood by the person she knows she’s done everything to deceive.

She’s not often hit by regret, or not often this out of control over her own emotions. It makes her angrier. Angrier because it takes her back and makes her feel younger than she’s been in centuries. She’s not that child anymore, can’t be.

Don’t you get that you’re ruining her?

—-

“I care,” Agatha whispers urgently, silently fuming and with her face morphed into a frustrated scowl. “Of course I care,” she says, like it should have never been in question—because she’s made it so clear apparently, you think disbelievingly, unable to help the scoff that chokes out of you.

Yeah right.

With more disappointment than Agatha could ever understand, you shake your head. “The only thing you care about, Agatha, is power. You tell me yourself all the time. I just thought— ” you pause, untamed tears coming to your eyes. “I don’t know what I thought…”

The moment the words leave your lips, you and Agatha enter into a standoff. Agatha furious and raging, and you too wrapped in your own emotions to register it as it is.

Agatha angry for the first time—at this. At the doubting of her care. It should say all you need to know, but you’ve missed it completely now that you’ve stopped looking.

It’s another moment of glaring before Agatha scoffs and stalks forward, pushing you into the wall and trapping you. Anyone else would be scared, but you just continue to glare (even as you flush).

There’s a part of you somewhere, one you don’t notice, but that Agatha does. A part of you that knows Agatha would never hurt you.

“I’m too old for this, ” Agatha grits out, and then her hand is around your throat. You don’t even flinch. Aren’t even surprised when you feel the rush of healing magic. All you’re surprised about is just that— your lack of surprise.

Agatha’s eyes turn inspecting, she shifts your head to the side with her other hand, ignoring your protests. You’re beginning to feel like a child, beginning to see things as they are.

Of course Agatha cares, you know. Somehow it hurts just as much. How could she both care and be so unpredictable, so cold? Had she thought of how you’d feel at all when you ignored her for the week? The other Avengers grew suspicious, checking everywhere around the compound for something stolen. You thought something terrible happened to her.

Only Wanda seemed unbothered. “She’s just throwing a tantrum,” she said, and wouldn’t explain further.

“Who did this?” Agatha repeats, pulling you from your thoughts.

“It was a mission”, you explained, the fire leaving you with it. You can’t afford to be mad at Agatha. You need and miss her too much.

Agatha growls, not settled at all. “Isn’t Wanda supposed to be protecting you?” She asks venomously, her jaw tightening along with her hand. “What good is your little girlfriend if she can’t even do that?”

It’s so laced with bitterness, with wanting, you’re left to blink at her, utterly shocked. Does Agatha think—? Wanda’s voice comes to your head; “she saw us cuddling and looked like she was going to murder me with the shattered glass in her hand.”

Seriously?

“What?” Agatha asks, self conscious in a way she never is. Self conscious because she likes—possibly loves you back.

All of this week’s turmoil, and for what? Because the two of you love each other?

—

You’re grinning at Agatha now, and Agatha is completely suspicious and unnerved. She tries to step back but you capture her wrists, pull her even closer.

Agatha’s heart pounds at the look on your face. Like a Cheshire cat. She can’t escape the feeling that she’s been caught. She eyes you with uneasiness.

You look at her expectantly now. “So much wisdom and yet you’re still so stupid?”

“Stupid?” Agatha repeats with disgust, like the word isn’t even in the dictionary.

You nod. “Agatha,” you breathe, affectionately. Agatha feels her world shift. “You know I love you, don’t you? Wanda is only ever going to be my frie—”

Agatha doesn’t let you finish. Couldn’t bear too. She’s always standing on the precipice of something. Always hovering over lines, too impatient to stand back, and your I love you snaps Agatha forward, like she’s been waiting for it for centuries. She kisses you roughly, pushing you back against the wall, and tries to claim it.

I love you, to the person who has never felt loved. She turned her back on love the moment love turned her back on her. She was only a teenager then, realizing that there was not a strength she could have that would make her enough for her mother—for her clan. There was not a person she could be beside herself, and never a version that wasn’t lacking, just out of reach of affection.

Then you. You showed up in Westview, strong enough to break in unaffected, and suspicious of Agatha, suspicious and then knowing, but still caring through it, and Agatha felt herself enough in the moments her mother would have claimed were her weakest; her moments where she was vulnerable and honest.

She kisses you like you’re her testament of her strength, now. Like you’re a testament of just how enough she is. She’s always been wanting, and doesn’t know how to exist without it. Without the yearning of; more, more, more, but as her kisses slow down, turn loving instead of passionate, she thinks for the first time that to exist like this—for the first time at peace, is something she could get used to forever.

You’re breathing heavily when Agatha breaks away, completely flustered and shaken. Agatha feels her heart pick up again, and thinks, no—she’ll always be wanting, and moves in to kiss you again.

You laugh, so joyful and happy—because of her. Because of her—a hand over Agatha’s mouth to stop her. “Are we ever going to talk?” You wonder breathlessly. “About feelings? About where you got that idea about Wanda and me?

Agatha pulls your hand away, smiles devilishly and possessively. “After I’ve had you against every corner of this house, we’ll invite Wanda over and talk over everything you’d like.”

You groan in exasperation, but there’s no protesting when Agatha kisses you next, and from the way you practically fall into the way Agatha’s hand curls loosely around your neck, she doesn’t expect one anytime soon.

232 notes · View notes

giamee · 5 months ago

Text

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖!

( THE REST OF IT )

hello, just to clarify this post will be detailing the outline of the remaining chapters (and therefore, the rest of the plot) for my discontinued series all i think about now! (see this post for more details as to why i discontinued it)

i would recommend reading the previous chapters if you haven't already. once again, a massive massive THANK YOU!!! to everyone who has shown love to this series. your support was very much appreciated <3

and without further ado, here is the rest of it. below the cut. happy reading :)

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟑 : LOOK AT ME!

[cw: smut]

-> cyno talks to you again, says that there's no movie to watch this time, but you can come into his bed if you like

-> you mentally deliberate for a bit, ultimately a "fuck it what else do i have to lose" decision because you've been hurt by alhaitham

-> get into bed with him

-> curse yourself because you forgot that it's directly opposite to alhaitham's bed

-> but then you shake off the guilt because if he doesn't care enough to be decent about it instead of stringing you along then why do you keep looking out for his feelings? his back is to you anyway

-> you have to climb over cyno to get into bed, laugh and joke with him a bit as you get comfy

-> he throws an arm around you, you curl into him, it feels so familiar wow you can't believe it's been four whole months since you broke up

-> get comfy, end up spooning

-> your ass brushes against his dick

-> he gets hard

-> try ignore it but you get turned on and you shuffle and accidentally brush against it again and he does a shaky breath and whispers out your name

-> so you start grinding on it slowly and his hands lock onto your hips

-> "do you want me to stop?" "...."

-> and then cyno starts kissing on your neck, gripping your waist, you're both all hot and bothered

-> and then uses one of his hands to tilt your chin back so that you're kissing him

-> a really needy and desperate kiss

-> and your shorts are really thin, his pyjama pants are really thin, you can basically feel the outline of his dick against you and he's practically dragging you over his length by now

-> moaning into his mouth and he pulls apart to tell you to be quiet unless you want to get caught

-> back to kissing, his hand around your waist is now starting to reach past ur waistband and into ur shorts, stroking you over the fabric of your panties

-> ur grinding against his hand, desperate for friction, he's teasing you in between kisses, still grinding up against you

-> his fingers draw circles around your clit, not quite touching you where you need him most

-> "c'mon, tell me how bad you want it"

-> makes you beg for it

-> "tell me how bad you missed me"

-> and after you beg him to do something he finally obliges, pulls ur panties and shorts to the side and knuckles brush against ur folds

-> "fuckkk, you're this wet just for me?"

-> starts to finger you

-> plunges in one finger knuckle deep, slowly moves in and out of you, already feel so full

-> grip onto his wrist and bite down to stifle your moan with the way he's curling his finger inside of you

-> and now he's whispering into your ear and also back to kissing on your neck

-> "so good for me" "i missed this pussy so much" "so tight, can't wait until i can actually fuck your brains out"

-> you're getting off from the dirty talk, squirming and moaning a little now

-> cyno uses his spare hand to cover your mouth

-> "you wouldn't want to wake up everyone else, now would you? unless you're into that..."

-> continues to finger you, feels so good

-> "you've folded so quickly, what happened to all that fight, hm?"

-> and u roll ur eyes at this and bring one of your hands back between the two of you to slide into his pants and grab him

-> he kinda hisses between his teeth as you wrap your hand around him, thumb swipes the slit and it's sticky with pre

-> "fuck, there she is"

-> you're jerking him off now, as he sits heavy in your hand

-> and it's not like he's completely unaffected

-> soft groans righttt into your ear, buries his face in your neck as he gets close

-> he ends up cumming all over your back and hand

-> humps your hand as the last spurts out and he presses a kiss to your shoulder and whispers for you to wait here and he gets up and goes to the bathroom

-> you're lying there contemplating life for a few minutes because you didn't get to cum and there's just nut on your back and you have to lie on your stomach so that it doesn't drip anywhere

-> cyno comes back, wipes you up, kisses you sweetly and it's quite nice to be honest

-> shake off that tension and try sleep

-> he falls asleep FAST, you're left lying there wide awake staring at the top bunk before you do finally fall asleep too

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟒 : LIKE YOU NEVER LEFT!

-> another bright new day

-> you wake up because you hear everyone being like where's y/n her bed's empty

-> and then you hear ALHAITHAM say she's in bed with cyno and everyone's like oh...

-> so yeah a little bit awkward in the morning but not a big deal

-> another fun day planned and you're more well-rested this time

-> a boat ride in the lake!

-> and then the guys go shirtless so you're ogling not only cyno (ripped) but alhaitham (ripped) too from behind your sunglasses because you're messyyyy

-> HOWEVER in your mind the tides are turning, shifting a bit more to favour cyno

-> because he's ALSO being really sweet with you

-> pulls up your shirt when it slips a little low

-> guides you with his hand on your back

-> so the tension is there!!!

-> so he's acting couply and YES you admit it it feels nice especially because of mr. "bare minimum and below" alhaitham's treatment of you... so what if he's doing it so "nobody gets hurt"

-> so you bask in the couplyness

-> not quite holding hands and walking together level of coupley but... he's touching you way more than friends would be!!

-> and then you all have a nice meal which puts you ALLL into a food coma

-> queue the actual social media part with nilou doing her aesthetic food photos again

-> and some guilt from you because you're avoiding telling your inazuma friends about you and cyno. because you KNOW they won't approve

-> you'll tell them later. you'll debrief them later. there's lots to do each day in mondstadt anyway and not enough time to tell them!! or at least that's what you tell yourself

-> and then end the chapter with catching a train to falcon coast!!

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟓 : DRUNK TCG!

[ cw: alcohol consumption ]

-> check into the airbnb, it's MUCH nicer than the dingy little hostel, very spacious and enough rooms for everyone to split into twos

-> cyno decides to be painfully obvious and s t a r e at you when there's one bed with a double bed

-> everyone gets settled

-> and then you all commemorate the night with a game of drunk tcg! loser takes a shot

-> so everybody is... decently wasted

-> kaveh the resident lightweight is like "haitham man why haven't you been laid yet no homo you're so pretty" "idc if i'm being zesty bro i'm RIGHT"

-> and alhaitham's eyes very briefly flick to you and you hold this supercharged moment of eye contact

-> but nobody notices because they're all too busy laughing at kaveh's antics and shenanigans

-> but everyone's having fun

-> cyno gets drunk too and starts bragging about how good he is at tcg

-> and then everyone gangs up on him to make him lose and he pouts and leans on you

-> and then you all pack up and go to bed

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟔 : A PROMISE DELIVERED!

[ cw: smut, dubcon because you're both tipsy ]

-> so... remember cyno saying he'll fuck your brains out when he gets the chance? yeah

-> you're both tipsy as hell, giggling as you undress each other and kiss your way over to the bed

-> shushing each other as the bed creaks and giggling all over again because you're trying not to be loud... but you're definitely being loud

-> cyno still being sweet and coupley

-> not much foreplay but he holds your hand as he pushes into you and kisses all over your face

-> starts to move and pick up pace and the bed creaks SO much

-> the sober part of your brain prays that everyone else is asleep or just can't hear

-> and yeah he isn't fucking you, he's making love

-> slow but harsh thrusts that have you jolting against the headboard, until he puts his arm there so you don't bang your head

-> and you both have dopey lovesick smiles on your faces

-> tangles his fingers into your hair, cups your face as he kisses you as he cums

-> you don't cum. again. lol.

-> and then you both sleep. happy days

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟕 : MANDATORY BEACH EPISODE!

-> a filler chapter

-> you all go to the beach and swim and have a nice day out

-> in the ocean you swim up to cyno, wrap your arms around him, he grins and holds you and you wrap your legs aorund him too and he carries you in the water. couple type shit

-> eat a good meal afterwards- seafood or something

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟖 : HOLD ON!

[ cw: smut ]

-> more smut again. of the down horrendous and 100% sober variety

-> you're in the mood to go above and beyond, offer to give cyno a blowjob

-> cyno almost says i love you

-> and then the mood is ruined, it gets awkward. neither of you bring it up but you both know that you heard him say it

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗 : ZOO CLASS TRIP!

-> another filler chapter

-> another fun day trip out

-> you go to a zoo

-> give the other characters time to shine, more friendship dynamics

-> ESPECIALLY mr tighnari biochemistry with a minor in zoology's time to shine

-> he does a whole informational tour of the zoo

-> you're not really talking to cyno because you're not sure what to say. because you feel conflicted. do you still love him? you're not entirely upset because he said it? a lot to think about

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎 : WHAT'S LEFT UNSAID!

-> so you're plucking up the courage to talk to cyno about last night

-> approach him like hey what's up

-> he's acting kind of... shifty? makes a comment about there being many things that you don't know

-> and you're like what do you mean

-> make a joke like hey it's not like we slept with anyone else after we broke up right?

-> and then he's a little toooo quiet so you're like oh

-> and then you ask who it is

-> he's hesistant but! he! tells!! you!!!

-> and it's kirara

-> flashback to chapter 4? i think. the flashback chapter. where you bumped into her and she left looking for cyno. and it all falls into place and the pin drops

-> in the shock stage because your ex and your friend got together and he only told you after fucking you MULTIPLE times + almost saying i love you

-> but now he's being all defensive like it's not like we were together. it's not like i did anything wrong.

-> and you're just dead silent as the two of you walk back to the airbnb. processing

-> end up leaving again to facetime inazuma friends on your phone on 7% because you can feel yourself starting to lose it

-> ayaka + thoma are in fontaine by now, yoimiya is drunk

-> you're crying by now telling them everything just starting to really go insane because out of EVERYONE why kirara

-> how he knew he was in the wrong because he only told you after fucking you

-> and for getting defensive so quick

-> find out that they fucked on the night you bumped into kirara

-> and that they're still talking to each other

-> this whole time

-> while he was being a lovey dovey couple

-> so yeah you're losing it now 👍🏻

-> and your friends are getting angry for you too

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟏 : KICK OFF!

-> so you're properly raging now

-> come back to the airbnb pissed

-> and of fucking COURSE cyno's pussying out by now

-> you're feeling confrontational.. kind of yelling and trying to fight with cyno

-> and he's pussied out and hiding in a room

-> one of your friends must have texted them or something because everyone else seems to know vaguely what's happening

-> they're sort of keeping you away from cyno

-> distracting you

-> eventually kaveh calms you down with scrolling through his camera roll

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟐 : THE AFTERMATH!

-> so once you've fully calmed down it's kind of sweet- everyone sleeps on the sofa in a group leaving cyno in his room

-> and you end up purely by chance next to haitham

-> by now you've calmed down but you're still a bit... out of your head

-> and awake

-> everyone else is asleep

-> have nilou surprisingly be proper SNORING cos lmao

-> so you turn over to face alhaitham like psst are you asleep

-> and he just responds like yes 😐

-> talk with him a bit

-> and it feels nice

-> and well... you got hurt so his argument is even less valid

-> and since y/n is FLAWED in this!!! u shuffle closer

-> haitham is just like baaaaad ideaaaa but he definitely doesn't do anything to stop it and shuffles closer to you too

-> talk a bit more and you can feel his guarded walls coming down a bit. he's being softer and nicer. maybe mention his supposed logic and he just sighs

-> flicks your forehead

-> "goodnight, y/n"

-> and then he stops responding

-> but you feel better

-> good enough to sleep so you roll over again

-> wake up again in the middle of the night and you can feel his arm around you but he's not quite spooning you awe

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 : EARLY DEPARTURES!

-> check out of the airbnb! and then on the way to the fibal destination of springvale woooo

-> dehya and nilou had to leave early </3

-> and you're still kind of reeling from yesterday still even after sleeping on it

-> you have to be near cyno because you're sharing the same suitcase... so it's a bit awkies now

-> dare to talk a bit

-> you even decide to extend the olive branch with sorry for going crazy last night

-> but he doubles down with the whole. i did nothing wrong

-> and then he decides to twist the knife even more by saying he doesn't care about you like that any more. even though he almost said i love you. and all of the couple behaviour the past few days.

-> and you're crying by now

-> and then he wraps you in a hug? and tells you if you still want to hang out and be friends and maybe hook up again he's still down????

-> so you're just like what the fuck now

-> fuck off cyno type beat

-> on the bus ride to springvale it's very much just straight emo hours

-> oh yeah also apologise to everyone for going crazy last night and thank them for taking care of you

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟒 : JUST A MAN!

-> a more smau centric chapter!

-> since your inazuma friends had been left kind of in the dark last night because you started tweaking give them a debrief now

-> also turns out that yoimiya messaged cyno to chew him out

-> and that ayaka messaged kirara to do the same

-> and that cyno responded just entirely bitching about you, saying some absolutely diabolical shit, demonstrate this through screenshots sent by yoimiya

-> and that kirara said that she thought it was fine and din't see anything wrong with getting cyno. her old friend's EX. especially since you two used to be close and yes you drifted apart but not too far for her to not know that you and cyno were a thing. you literally introduced the two while youbwere dating him.

-> so your friends slag them both off a bit

-> and you're a bit fired up again

-> so pull cyno aside like hey can we talk and he says yes, you mention what he was saying about you and ask him to at least take responsibility for his actions

-> and he says why should i apologise i've not done anything wrong. just being a dick by now

-> you call him a cunt. tell him that he knew damn well that what he did was wrong because he only told you about kirara after the two of you slept together because he knew that it would hurt you and make you want nothing to do with him

-> storm off. tell friends about it as a final update

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟓 : MOVING ON!

-> so after that massive revelation that cyno's a dick you go okay fuck this and decide to just put it behind you and enjoy the rest of your holiday

-> calm after the storm type chapter

-> chill with friends by a little lake in springvale

-> some swimming. some splashing. some alhaitham breadcrumbs as you flirt with him by pulling him into the water and he lets you awe but! that's about it

-> but you just aren't really feeling like getting into something new. because of everything. and last night with him makes you fairly sure he still has feelings for you or at least CARES about you and there's still a little spark there so you're like you know what? i'll let it be for now. there's no rush.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟔 : NIGHTLIFE!

[ cw: harassment ]

-> so you guys go out clubbing :3

-> there's a subtle split in the group. one surrounding you, the other surrounding cyno. you're a little tipsy but still have enough of your wits about you to realise your friends made an agreement to keep you two apart. which is nice

-> have a good time with layla and tighnari before they split off to be with cyno

-> and you end up with kaveh and alhaitham near the end of the night

-> kaveh is SO GOOD at dancing personal hc coming in hot

-> which makes alhaitham's stiff body just standing there even funnier

-> but hey you're here for a good time

-> so you dance with kaveh, he holds ur hands and makes you do a little twirl aww

-> you both laugh at alhaitham

-> he even cracks a smile at your teasing

-> but then you're minding your business dancing in your trio

-> when you feel that UNMISTAKEABLE feeling of a guy starting to dance up behind you and you're horrified

-> kaveh was closer to you but too busy dancing to notice your discomfort

-> but luckily alhaitham does and saves you from the guy

-> and you're about to say thank you and just keep it moving but then alhaitham's telling off kaveh for being so careless about his surroundings and having to pay more attention

-> he's properly angry and you've never seen him like that before so it's a bit of a shock

-> and he only really backs down when you put a hand on his shoulder like it's okay let's just go back to the airbnb

-> the three of you take a taxi back

-> you're feeling really tired so you kind of fall asleep on alhaitham's shoulder a bit

-> and he shakes you awake at the end of the ride LOL

-> and then chapter ends with you collapsing straight into bed

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟕 : LAST DAY!

-> as the chapter title may suggest, it's your last full day in mondstadt :( before your early ass flight back tomorrow

-> and you decide to just really enjoy the scenery of mondstadt since it's a beautiful day

-> hike up the cliff

-> pretty views

-> kaveh singing along with a speaker

-> walk next to alhaitham for most of it just chilling

-> at the top you're all taking photos and alhaitham tells you to pose for one

-> "i look so ugly right now" and he's just like "no you don't" with the softest look in his eyes aw :)

-> so yeah good vibes and a good night

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟖 : SOMETHING FOR THE FUTURE!

-> so it's the last night now

-> everyone's packing their stuff, getting ready to sleep etc

-> you're brushing your teeth in the bathroom, you hear a knock and open the door and it's alhaitham so you're just like come in because you're only brushing your teeth and he's got his own toothbrush in his hands

-> and it's sort of a despite everything that's happened it's still ok. your life isn't over kind of feeling while you're just stood next to each other brushing your teeth

-> glance up to look at him through the mirror just to see that he's already looking at you

-> and you rinse out your mouths at the same time and stuff

-> and he's like so.

-> and you're like so.

-> he's like we should talk

-> and you're like not right now

-> and he actually.... looks nervous for a change

-> and he's like yeah of course i just meant that maybe we should... talk later. about this (gestures between the two of you). about us

-> and you nod like i agree. but later. back in sumeru

-> and he nods too but he doesn't quite seem satisfied so you're like what's up

-> and he's like can i hug you. (i'm still not sure how pathetic i want him to sound when i ask this so it's up to you, reader. whatever degree of patheticness you fancy.)

-> so you do hug

-> it's just a short one but it's sweet

-> he smells nice and he kinda buries his nose into your hair for a quick second

-> and you're like goodnight haitham

-> and he says goodnight and flicks your forehead with a smile

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟗 : DON'T BE A STRANGER!

-> the final day, if you can even call it that because it's four in the morning when you all get up to get your flight back to sumeru

-> that early morning weather and dim grey light has you feeling properly at peace. that and the fact that you've blocked cyno and kirara on EVERYTHING

-> you got a random seat on your flight so you're nowhere near anyone but that's alright with you. just listen to music and chill for the whole flight

-> and then when you touch back down and get off the plane just by chance alhaitham had sort of waited back for you ajd the two of you walk off the flight together

-> and then it's bag collection. sigh.

-> cyno is still being bitter and a cunt and it's your luggage so he cracks it open grabs all his shit from it and then he's gone from you thank fuck

-> and then everyone's saying goodbye to each other before they leave the airport

-> when it gets to you and alhaitham saying bye you tell him how you're going back to inazuma for most of summer to be back with friends and family and he nods like yeah that sounds like. a good idea

-> "don't be a stranger" (chapter title reference woooahh)

-> and you laugh like i won't be. we'll talk when i'm back :)

-> and as he's hugging you he mumbles into your ear tell me when you're back in sumeru, yeah?

-> and then one big goodbye to everyone before you leave the airport with your half-empty suitcase and full spirits

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟎 : MOVING ON!

-> you're back in inazuma now

-> meet up with yoimiya, ayaka, and thoma

-> and have the MOTHER of all debriefs over a meal

-> and you realise that it's NICE to see your friends after so long

-> you've really missed them and that it's nice to be back

-> the ultimate consensus is that cyno is a cunt

-> and that you need time to heal

-> but that talk with alhaitham is the first stepping stone on the route to him

-> if you so desire to walk down that path

-> but what's most important is that you process everything that happened because jesus fucking christ

-> talk about the discrepancy between the emotion of any lingering feelings about cyno and kirara you have and the more rational thoughts you have

-> #closure

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 : ONE MONTH LATER!

-> you're finally back in sumeru

-> it's been a few days actually

-> just a short and sweet chapter about how you've unpacked, gotten settled, all that jazz

-> and you feel a lot better

-> about yourself. about everything that happened

-> so you get out your phone

-> text alhaitham "i'm back in sumeru btw"

-> chewing on your thumbnail as you linger on the chat with him

-> watch nervously as he reads the message, likes it, and then see him type. and then stop typing. then start typing again. and then finally sending the message

-> THE CONTENTS OF THE MESSAGE ARE NOT EXPLICITLY SHOWN

-> but you react with a smile before typing in a response almost immediately

-> and that is the official end of all i think about now

[ THANKS FOR MAKING IT THIS FAR <3 ]

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