#i feel so much pressure not to disappoint him
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˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ popular!matt and smart!reader meet for the first time !!
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finally an introduction blurb to these two!!!!! eeek so excited about them :)
note: these two are from the same universe as popular!chris and cinderella!reader which you can find everything for here.
asks & requests are always open for this au.
matt has been failing classes for months.
it’s not something he was particularly proud of, and at first he wasn’t entirely bothered by it. the after-game parties, the endless practice sessions, and keeping up with whichever cheerleader was pining over him were enough to keep his focus elsewhere. but now, the failures were piling up and the pressure was all starting to feel a little too much. coach had called him into his office, bright and early, making it clear that if his grades didn’t see an improvement soon, his place on the team was at risk.
the truth was, unlike chris, football had never really been matt’s dream.. it was more his father’s. he played because his dad pushed him into it, and he didn’t want to let him down. he knew that if he got kicked off the team, it wouldn’t just be the end of his time on the field; it would be something his dad would never let him hear the end of. the weight of that expectation felt suffocating at times, but matt couldn’t afford to disappoint him. not now, not ever.
so, here he was, standing in front of the only thing that could save him, the tutor center on campus. if swallowing his pride and begging for help was the only way to keep his spot on the team, then so be it. he’d do whatever it took to keep his dad from finding out just how close he really was to losing it all.
matt pushed open the door, stepping into the tutor center, a place he had never thought to visit before. the air feeling heavy with the scent of black coffee, the walls lined with posters full of motivational quotes on them. he felt like the outsider, for the first time.
and then, he notices you.
you were sitting in the corner of the room, piles of textbooks and notebooks stacked around you. your fingers flying over the keypad of the laptop infront of you, brow furrowed in concentration, completely absorbed in whatever you were working on, as if nothing else around you existed.
matt hesitated, feeling suddenly unsure of himself. he wasn’t used to being in a place like this, he wasn’t used to feeling like he didn’t belong, but with a deep breath, he stepped forward, heading straight towards your desk.
“hey,” he says, voice breaking the silence. “i’m matt.”
you glance up at him, eyes narrowing slightly, before going back to typing, not giving him much more than a brief glance.
“i know exactly who you are,” you replied, your voice was flat, not looking up from your laptop, “everyone talks about you and your friends.”
he chuckled, though it was definetely more out of discomfort than anything, “all good things i hope.”
you didn’t answer, the room filling back with an awkward silence.
matt glanced around at the empty room surrounding you both, placing his hands awkwardly in his pockets, then his gaze goes straight back to you, before he cuts straight to the point. “look, i’m not gonna lie to you. i need help. badly. i’m failing most of my classes, and coach says if i don’t sort my shit out then i’m off the team. and if that happens, my dad… he won’t let me live it down. i need you to tutor me.”
his popular facade was starting to crumble, the embarrassment creeping in as he said the words aloud. he wasn’t used to this, asking for help and it made him feel vulnerable.
you study him for a moment, like you were really taking in every word. “you want me to tutor you?”
matt nodded eagerly, wanting so bad to make this work. “please. i’m not asking for a miracle. i just really need to pass, that’s all. i won’t make shit complicated, you won’t even have to deal with me for very long.”
you dropped the pen you had been chewing the lid of, crossing your arms and looking straight at him. “and why should i help you?”
he could feel the weight of your gaze, the way you were looking into him so intensely was making him feel almost… nervous, another feeling he wasn’t used to. “because you’re the smartest girl on campus, right?” he says, a false confident tone in his voice. “everyone knows it and i know you don’t want to help me out because i’m on the football team, but i really, really, really need this. please.”
matt felt his heart starting to race, he didn’t know what he would do if you said no, but he wasn’t backing down. “i’m not like them,” he says, referring to his teammates. “i’ll do all the work you ask, i won’t waste a second of your time.”
you studied him for a long moment. he could see you were trying to decide if you believed him or not, but you know you needed to benefit from this too.
“fine,” you sigh loudly, “i’ll help you, but only if you get your teammates to lay off my best friend when you’re all at the diner. i’m not going to help you if they keep making her shifts miserable.”
matt blinked, taken aback. “what? i can’t contr—“
you cut him off, instantly, “then no tutoring.”
he hesitated for a second, he hadn’t expected this, but he knew he had no other choice. “alright. i’ll talk to them. but you promise you’ll really help me pass?”
you nod, “if you follow through with your side of the deal and you turn up to every session, then yes, i will help you.”
matt met your gaze, his expression a mix of determination and uncertainty. “deal.”
you push your laptop aside, replacing the empty gap with a textbook from one of the many piles next to you. “we’ll start tomorrow morning before classes start, 7 o clock, don’t be late.”
he stands there for a moment, internally grateful you hadn’t completely shut him down like he had truly anticipated happening, “i’ll be here at 7 o clock on the dot, i won’t be late, not even by a second. i really appreciate this, you’re savin’ my ass big time.” he grins, before turning to leave.
“and matt,” you call out after him, just before he reaches the door. “please don’t make me regret this.”
#˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ popular!matt#˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ smart!reader#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo x reader
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Have fun
Prey
Ever since the infection had destroyed Linkon by making all the males act in their own instinct, your husband, Caleb had been one of the ones who was infected. With the help of the Hunter Association and the Fleet you had managed to find Caleb and even capture him.
The one who was the sweet man, who always woke up at the crack of dawn to make you breakfast was now tied down like a wild animal. Watching your every move, pondering your movements, thank God that his evol had been surpresed by the infection.
"You still keep this" your fingers pulling his dog tag "Why?"
Yet no answer came from him, only a feral gaze that made you shiver. Pushing down the fear, knowing that he was restrained, you let your frustration out. All the hours spent worried about him, yearning for him and wondering if he was going to be the same Caleb that you knew once.
"Answer me!" Your hand brushing his chin, a touch that was never meant to be for him "Why did you kept it?!"
The red lights of the alarm made you turn away, the warning from the speakers clear as the day "Breach of perimeter. All personal must evacuate immediately..." The screams of your allies could be heard in the distance along with the maniac laugh of the infected. You ran to the center of the room, where a screen showed how the infected had gotten in as if they were looking for something or someone. Somehow they have been able to get in, right after you had seized Caleb...
The cage was now empty, the chains tossed in the middle of it, the door wide open, yet Caleb was no where to be seen. Raising your weapon you walked towards the cage, you had made sure that Caleb was really restrained, the chains were not broken, so how was he able to free himself?
Strong arms encircled your figure as they pressed you against something warm and hard. The sudden and unknown pressure in your hands made you drop your weapon, you tried to move, tried to fight, but your body was not answering.
"Did you seriously think that you could cage me, pipsqueak?" His lips hovering over your ear, a teasing bite before his grip on you tightening "I thought that the greatest hunter in Linkon would put a fight. if it wasn't you, I would have been disappointed and already kill you, you should be glad" his tone teasing and mocking, despite that there was hint of affection on his tone. His face making his way to your neck, leaving a red mark that would never fade.
Even though he wasn't the same Caleb, even though the infection had changed your husband, your body aching for him, and he knew it.
"Why? How?"
"Let's say that I missed you..." the chains that once were on the floor, now were flooring around like serpents "... Missed the way you feel, pipsqueak..." Caleb turn you around to put a collar in your neck " I was craving for you, needed you back, but I knew you were not going to come to me so willingly... So I had to play along, did you really think that I would get caught so easily
"Caleb... Ughh" the mark in your neck was pulsing, aching in a way that you never expect making you react in a strange way. As your body trembled, Caleb took away the pressure with his evol, your hands clinging to him to not fall "What did you?"
He laughed at the sight of you. Yet Caleb did not speak, enjoying the view, he know that the infection had only affected men, women were immune, until one day one of his followers bite his wife, making her all submissive and needy for him. Since that day, Caleb had wanted to get to you, yet he contained himself, wanting to play with you for a little bit, making you think you had the upper hand.
"How much I have missed you, pipsqueak"
The fog on your mind only got stronger, violent, making you confuse, unable to resist, to fight back and bring back the old Caleb. A new feeling took place, the one feel Caleb, to be with Caleb, to let Caleb take you.
"Ca-Caleb!" You were so pathetic, the infection running now in your blood had ruined you and Caleb did not want it any different.
"Shhh, pipsqueak. Caleb's is home"
#l&ds#love and deepspace#caleb x mc#caleb x reader#love and deepspace mc#caleb#l&ds caleb#lads caleb
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hey there! it’s “lulu feels too hard” anon back with another mini rant (not really a rant, more like an observation haha)
It’s in the same vein of him feeling emotions hard, but i think one thing that needs to be emphasized in this dynamic is how much he’s tried to subdue his emotions – and i don’t just mean recently. in many clips from his prep school days, like when he’s getting an award for example, you can see him smiling like a bit, but then cutting back to this neutral expression. Funny enough, it’s his eyebrows that always give him away loool. It’s similar to how he acts in the court hearing, full of expression, but then immediately goes back to a stoic, neutral expression. There’s even moments like this in some of the clips from Hawaii.
I guess my point is, how much was he taught to mask his emotions, and put up a front. It seems to me that he was brought up in a collective environment where the saying goes “always put your best foot forward, regardless of the circumstance”. I can understand this, coming from a family with similar values of “you represent the family name, your success is our success.”
i think though, that this seems to be what makes lulu resonate with so many of us: he’s empathetic, despite trying to be stoic. There’s a duality about him – the confident Ivy League scholar and the vulnerable, empathetic people pleasing boy who seeks affirmation one way or another.
but I think under this guise of putting your best foot forward, combined with a sense of always showing your masculinity that many guys of that age are pressured to do (and let’s not forget that for most of his schooling he attended an all boys school so there is that sort of “our boys” culture that’s pervasive in these realms), he had to hide the other part of him which felt so deeply, so hard.
it reminds me of one of his Reddit posts talking about his issues with Brain Fog, and how he initially never thought to talk about it with his friends, and instead masked it under this idea of “oh well, marks don’t matter for computer science majors” even though he was hurting and feeling so disappointed in himself to the point of contemplating dropping out. But the part that sticks out to me the most is what he said after in the post about even if you do end up telling them, if you wait too long, it’s almost like they won’t believe you (or something along those lines). And idk, that’s just such a heartbreaking way to think and it makes me sad for him. He internalized so much it seems. And truthfully, I’m not blaming anyone in his circle (family/friends) because I think part of it was also lulu never wanting to seem weak, which unfortunately clouded his vision of seeing that there were people who probably may have wanted to help. It’s just an all around sad circumstance :(
Sorry for the long write up, don’t feel like you need to provide a long response too! (haha i guess in some ways, i relate to lulu too :)
No, no, please don’t apologize for writing this, you captured this so well! 🥺 I wish I had more to add on, but you literally took all the words out of mine and emphasized on this beautifully.
I also think there’s that duality of having an internal vs. external struggle, where he could easily show and offer empathy towards others like it was nothing, but when it came to himself, it was a completely different story to extend grace. I know he had to internalize a lot, and the physical exertion of carrying all that weight on him had to have shown. I remember somebody mentioning how when he’s in deep thought in some photos, you see all the lines on his forehead—and there’s a lot of them, and once you notice them all crinkled, you’ll never not look at them in other photos. So, he literally has/had so much on his mind.
Reading that part of about his brain fog, about the irony of opening up too soon to your friends, fucked me up, to be truthful. I similarity dealt with this about two years ago, when I experienced two close familial deaths within a month before I started my senior year of college, and I was grieving hard. So many people that I know looked at me and considering my bereavement with the “strong Black woman” trope because I do have a strong personality, and I’ve experienced a lot of hardship in my life, so some felt like that I was gonna be alright, regardless, and kind of brushed off my grief like, “Oh, she’ll be alright, you’ve always managed to go through things” but no, lol. It’s the reality that I think, that many of the “strongest” friends in the group more often than not, face, surprisingly, contrary to belief—it happens all the time. When you’re commended to be a strong, resilient person, people don’t consider you to be weak, as in, you can’t persevere through struggles, but if you do, you’ll be fine, and the suffering won’t take much of an effect on you. But, like anyone else in this world, it still hurts, and it’s still acceptable to just give yourself the space to say that it sucks, and it hurts to be hurting. It’s sort of like, you have that universal perception of what it means to be hurt, but you can’t express that you’re hurt in the same breath.
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Poor, Unfortunate Soul - C.HS
🐚Who: Chwe Hansol (Seventeen) x female reader 🐚What: Fantasy au. Tentacle monster/sea witch Hansol. Mermaid princess reader. Inspired by The Little Mermaid. 🐚Word count: 3.1k 🐚Warnings: Morally dark character. Trickery. 🐚Summary: “Ever since you can remember, you’ve wanted to know everything you can about humans, wanted to know what it is like to walk alongside them. But you cannot physically do that. Lucky for you, you’ve heard talk of a sea witch who might just be able to help you. At least, you hope so.”
Masterlist
A/N- This is part of the dark fairy tales collab I’m hosting called Once Upon a Time! There will be many exciting fics to come so check out the masterlist for it to see what’s coming soon!
Thank you to darling @ddeonghwa-s for inspiring this idea by sending gif of Ursula when I said tentacle monster Hansol, it was the prompt I didn’t know I needed until I had it and now it will never leave my mind.
Humans have always intrigued you.
Ever since you were little, you’ve loved peering at them from behind rocks, hidden safely out of their line of vision to watch them with utter fascination.
Something about these creatures lures you in, makes you want to get closer and closer. Makes you want to befriend the interesting beings and walk alongside them.
Though there is a very big problem with that. An issue that you can’t simply flick your tail fin and fix. In fact, it’s the tail itself that is the issue.
You were born to the seas; with a beautiful, strong tail below your waist, not the two legs you yearn for to join your precious humans on their land, breathing nothing but the fresh air your gills aren’t designed to filter.
But you’ve heard talk of a witch who lives in the depths, hides in the dark of the caves and grants wishes to those brave enough to seek him out.
You know it’s risky, you know he will ask for something in return, but you think anything is worth even just one chance to be with your humans.
“Hello?” You call out tentatively as you hover by the entrance of the sea witch’s cave, still in the light filtering down from the surface far above, but you know the moment you enter that cave all light will cease to exist. Even now, hovering at the edge looking in, it’s as if even the light is afraid to reach past the threshold.
A part of you wants to turn back, wants to turn tail and swim as far and fast as you can. Yet a much bigger part of you yearns to step one of those strange human limbs onto dry sand, so you remain.
A voice echoes eerily from somewhere deep within the cage, somehow sounding so clear despite how deep he must be. “If you wish to do business with me, you need to come in.”
“Oh,” you breathe out, disappointed, but not truly surprised that the witch won’t come to meet you. You’ve heard he rarely leaves his shadows behind.
After taking a deep breath to full your chest with bravery you’re not entirely feeling, you swim into the cave.
“Where are you?” You call after timidly swimming forward almost blindly as you travel further and further into the cave with both arms out, one at your side so that your fingers can run along the rough cave wall to help guide you in the pitch black and the other in front so that you can feel anything that may appear in front of you.
“Keep coming, you’ll know when you’re here,” the witch chuckles, sounding like he’s right next to you yet so far away at the same time.
Seconds, or minutes, later, you realise that something is changing around you; the pressure in the water is a little different, a little heavier, as if full of magic you’ve never felt before.
Instinctively, you slow down until you come to a complete stop and remain in place, left hand flat against the cave wall and the other gripping the shell pendant around your neck for comfort.
“Well, well, well, what’s our dear King’s sweet, youngest daughter doing in my cave?” He teases as you blink around, trying to will your eyes to adjust to the lack of light and find the man, wherever he may be.
You think he may be right behind you, but every time you try to detect him with your hearing alone, it seems as if he changes location from one syllable to the next due to the cave walls echoing his voice eerily.
“I hear you can grant wishes,” you respond, trying to sound strong and unafraid, but the almost condescending little chuckle he lets out makes it clear that he knows the truth.
“Not wishes, princess, I make deals. One thing for another.” Something brushes over your cheek; it feels smooth until it turns, and you feel a bump, but it’s gone before you can really understand what it is. “Whatever you want mustn’t have monetary value for you to come to me instead of your father to have him simply buy it for you. Or bully his subjects into handing it over.”
“My father is no bully!” You defend indignantly, turning to scowl into the darkness.
The witch laughs darkly. “You only see what you want to see, princess.”
“If that were true, I’d be able to see you right now.”
“You don’t want to see me, trust me.”
“I’m not the in the habit of trusting men I can’t see the eyes of.”
“You want to see my eyes, huh?”
It’s barely a second, only a blink, before directly in front of you, a pair of eyes appear like none you have ever seen before. The eyes have no whites, only a thin ring of a sickly yellow around the edges, the rest are entirely black.
A fearful shiver runs down your spine and the man laughs, eyes squinting slightly as his invisible expression morphs with his mirth. “Trust me yet?” He mocks and vanishes from your sight with a blink of his own eyes, melding back into the darkness enveloping you both. “What do you wish for, princess?” He continues on, giving you no chance to answer his first question.
“For human legs.”
There’s a strange pause, as if the witch is genuinely stunned by your confession before he speaks with an edge of curiosity to his words. “Human legs? Why would you want such a thing? You have the most beautiful tail I’ve seen on any merfolk, which says a lot because I’ve seen an awful lot of merfolk in my time.”
You’re used to compliments on your appearance, your richly coloured tail, yet something about the way the witch speaks his words makes your cheeks warm with a shy blush. “Thank you,” you whisper and divert your gaze downwards, even if you still have no idea where exactly he is to even attempt to make eye contact in the first place.
“You’re welcome. So, why human legs?”
“I want to go on land and walk alongside the humans.”
The witch bursts into laughter as if what you’ve said is truly the funniest thing he’s heard in a long time. “Oh, princess!” He wails. “That’s rich, really.”
“I’m being serious! They’ve always fascinated me, so I’d like even just once chance to be amongst them, see them up close and learn more of their lives and culture than I ever can from the seas.”
“Huh, I see.” He makes a considering noise. “It’s a big ask, changing your physiology like that, I’d also have to remove your gills and give you humans lungs or else you’d barely make it on land before suffocating.”
“Well if you can’t do it-”
“Hey!” He interrupts firmly. “I never said that; I just said it’s a big ask so it will have a high price. Are you willing to pay the price, princess?”
“Yes,” you don’t even hesitate in answering.
You’re so confident that he can’t help but laugh shortly, just a quick, little exhale of amusement, before talking. “That’s a lot of confidence for a princess who doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.”
“I would do anything to have the chance to be amongst humans just once.”
“Anything, huh?”
“Anything,” you agree with a nod and finally remove your hand from the cave wall to let it fall to your side as you turn so that your back is to the rough stone.
For a moment, there is nothing but silence, not even the sound of the water naturally moving, it is so still that you feel like you’re suddenly not a part of your own body, like you are just an untethered consciousness floating in the endless abyss.
“Alright,” the witch replies and suddenly, the water starts to move gently again, bringing you back to yourself.
You let out a shaky, little breath and wonder if that was the witch using his magic on you. It makes fear spike in your chest at the thought of how much worse it may feel to have him cast a spell to allow you on land; you aren’t sure you can handle it, yet still, you persist.
“I know exactly what I want from you, princess,” he informs.
“And what is that?”
“Do you care? You agreed to anything.”
“I still would like to know.”
He makes a thoughtful noise before those eyes appear in front of you again, though this time you can see something beginning to glow just below them. His intense gaze remains unblinking on you even as the light grows brighter and brighter, until you can see the conch he is whispering into; a soft, eerie, echo that you can’t make sense of.
Not that you have the mental ability to try to decipher his quiet words, not when, for the first time, you can see the man in front of you, not in his entirety but enough that your heart skips a few beats.
The man is truly gorgeous; his features are strong and skin pale and perfect, framed by smooth, silver hair, which any of your merfolk brethren would enviously yearn to have on their own heads should they see it.
Though his beauty is what initially catches your attention, once the glow of the shell lights more than just his face and neck, you can see movement behind him. At first, you think there is another creature there, perhaps one of the pet eels you’ve heard he keeps, yet when you look over, you realise the dark length to not be a separate being but part of him.
Your wide eyes slide down his bare chest until they meet the barely visible dark smears along his taut stomach. As the light grows brighter still, your heart stutters for an entirely new reason.
This witch is not merfolk nor siren, he is not any sea dweller you have seen before, nor heard of living to this day. You don’t even know the correct term for what he is; his species is so old, so ancient that the true knowledge was lost centuries ago.
Even your father, at close to three centuries of age, has never met a being like this witch; a being with not a tail like all other higher sea dwellers, but tentacles.
“What are you?” You whisper, voice coming out unsteadily as you slowly remove your gaze from the writhing mass of dark appendages and to meet equally as dark eyes glued to you and reflecting the glow of the conch.
The witch whispers for a few seconds longer before lowering the still glowing shell enough to reveal his amused smirk. “Scared, princess?”
“No,” it’s not a complete lie, but not the real truth either and he knows it. The way he laughs, revealing sharper-than-normal teeth in his mouth, confirms it.
“Whatever you say, princess. Still want to do this?” He lifts the shell a little and raises a questioning eyebrow at you.
“Yes.”
“Alright, then say your name into the shell and the deal will be struck, there’s no going back though, so be certain.”
“You still haven’t told me what you want,” you remind, refusing to lean towards the shell, even when he turns the opening to you, the same place he had whispered the spell into.
“Your voice,” he answers simply.
“My voice?” You ask confused. “Why do you want that, out of everything?”
“What, can’t a man want the voice of beautiful woman to keep him company?” He goads shamelessly, smirking when you shyly look away. “Are you always this easy to fluster, princess, or am I special?”
“Will it be permanent? My loss of voice?” You ask, avoiding his question entirely because you don’t want to tell him the truth; that he is the only being who has flustered you in some time.
“No, I’ll return it to you when you return back to the sea after visiting the humans.”
“Do I have a specific time frame to be on land?”
“Until the following sunup after your human legs are fully in place, which will only happen when you’re entirely dry on land. The gills will leave as soon as you’re completely out of the water though, so bear that in mind,” he warns, then taps a finger on the shell. “Come on, princess, I don’t have all day, I’ve got things to do.”
“It’s a little unfair,” you comment as you reach up to carefully accept the shell from his hands.
“What is?”
“You clearly know who I am and even if you didn’t, you will know my name in a moment, yet I don’t know yours.”
“You haven’t asked.”
“What’s your name?” Your immediate question makes him laugh softly, eyes crinkling ever so slightly and somehow, you think he grows even more mesmerising.
“It’s Hansol, my name is Hansol.”
“I’m-” you start to reply, to politely offer your own name in response but he puts one hand over yours on one side of the shell to guide it closer to your mouth.
“In here, princess,” he reminds and taps the back of your hand softly with his index finger without removing his hand from on top of yours.
When Hansol leads the shell until it gently touches your lips, you expect him to remove his hand, yet his free one lifts to cover your other hand on the opposite side of the shell and for a second, you forget what you’re supposed to be doing.
Upon registering the cool of the shell against your skin, a few intense moments of simmering eye contact later, you focus on the conch instead of the witch, to whisper your name into the crevice.
As the spell is cast, you feel a low heat spread through your body, warming you within your very veins, from the tips of your fingers below his palms, to the end of your tail and back again. For those seconds of muted heat, you feel connected to the witch, like you are being tied together at the very centre of you, then it passes.
An ache blooms in your throat and rapidly grows into sharp pain that makes you gasp and instinctively attempt to move away, yet Hansol curls his fingers around your hands to press your touch firmer to the shell.
The witch leans forward, edges a little closer to you. “Shh, it’s okay, it’ll be over in a second,” he soothes and gently brushes his thumb against your skin.
Just as he assured, the pain only lasts a fraction longer before dissipating with a sensation like a pop in your throat.
Hansol watches intently until he’s satisfied the deal is struck securely, then he lowers the shell and eyes your parted lips. “Try to talk.”
You do; you open and close your mouth, will words to tumble past, yet not a single sound escapes.
The way Hansol’s lips twitch up in a satisfied grin makes something twist acidly in your stomach, something you don’t like the feeling of.
“Perfect,” he approves before taking the shell from your hands. “It’s done, there’s no going back; your tail will turn to human legs when you go on land.”
You light up and put a hand to his arm in silent thanks before making an attempt to leave.
Though something stops you; you barely make it out of the shell’s gradually dimming light before you feel a tug within you, like there is an invisible rope tied securely around your insides and preventing you from going further.
Utterly bewildered, you turn to look questioningly at Hansol where he’s still smiling, sharp teeth on display and dark eyes shining in the decreasing light.
“Aw, princess, you’re so cute when you’re confused,” he coos and lifts one hand from the conch to beckon you over with two quick curls of a single finger.
You don’t want to approach, you want to get your answers and leave, yet that rope tugs hard enough to hurt, rendering you incapable of not following the silent order.
“Oh, princess,” Hansol breathes out when you’re in front of him, close enough that he can reach out and brush the backs of his fingers over your cheek so lightly you barely feel it. A shiver runs down your spine all the same. “Did you really think I’d let you go after having you in my home and seeing your beauty so closely?”
Your eyes dart down to the seashell in his left hand then back up at him incredulously, hoping he understand your silent demand for explanation.
“Mm, the spell is in place, I didn’t lie about that; you will gain human legs once dry on land and all that, I’m a man of my word.”
The assurance means nothing when you can’t leave, and he must be able to read it on your face. You wonder if you are truly so simple to read that this man understands you so easily in such a short time, or if it is his magic at play.
Hansol chuckles and lifts the shell a little. “Our deal is kept in here, so are the terms of said deal; something you really should’ve listened to before agreeing, princess. I should be flattered that you trusted me so easily to take my word for it and not ask more questions. Either that or you’re all beauty, no brains. Sad for you, not for me, because now, thanks to your oversight, you’re tied to me. You, sweet princess are mine until the day I see fit to take you to the surface.”
Horror pools in your throat, spills down into your stomach and makes you feel sick as his words settle; the enormity of your mistake lands in your heart and causes it to crack open painfully in your chest.
“And how long will that be I hear you not asking because I own your pretty voice,” he taunts, then pretends to think, humming as his eyes roam your body up and down.
You can no longer see the full expanse of him, not with how little of the light remains, but he doesn’t have the same issue, clearly seeing your figure in the almost extinguished light and pleased by what he sees based on his smirk of approval.
“I think a few centuries might just about satisfy me,” he decides as a tentacle wraps possessively around your stomach, suctioning to your skin and marking a claim on you that is visible only to his eyes, it’s not anyone else will see you for a long time, after all.
The light from the conch flickers out, yet you can still see Hansol’s eyes as they lift back up to meet your terrified gaze.
“Oh, I’m looking forward to showing you exactly what I am, princess.”
In a blink of your own eyes, Hansol’s vanish, along with his touch on you, leaving you in the dark feeling entirely alone, even if you know he’s watching you.
That he’ll always be watching you.
Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖
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slept well!! I was supposed to have a field trip and it got cancelled cause of the weather so I'm not sure what I'm doing now but basically I'm at home. I'm here to do the thing you (fenris) do with destroyer cause it looks rlly fun! my commentary might not his the spot but I'm trying :D
Cyrus wishes to at least have a look around while outside. It would only be a military camp, soldiers walking around, tents set up, maybe some horses on one side. Not a very pleasant nor interesting view.
But at least he would be seeing the sky, and the grass, and people.
AAAAAAAAAAAA IT'S REAL!!! IT'S HAPPENING!!!! this is a really strong start I can already feel the like. yearning
He's not. He's seeing pure black from behind his nullification glasses, being guided by an unrelenting hand on his neck, just above his heavy collar.
yearning!
Not even allowed to feel skin, only the tough material of a glove.
I REMEMBER THAT FROM THE CYRUS & WALENTY RP THINGY!!! that I'm not sure if will be posted but it happened in tumblr dms.
when you asked it there I assumed you were asking cause cyrus can use his magic via any skin contact :0 now I'm wondering if it's that or habit or both...
aaaaaa he's so feared and sad :( I'm gonna read the comfort asks after this. OH can the emoji for the one I sent be changed from 🌺 to ☄️ please?
A strong sensation of nausea hits him when they enter his designed post tent of this campaign. It feels like the protection barriers put around the tents are getting stronger each campaign.
are the protection barriers making him nauseous??
Being on an empty stomach doesn't help, either. Regret fills him from refusing breakfast, but he's sure his stomach wouldn't have kept it down anyway.
ohhh so he's allowed to refuse food??? damn. did wilson also suspect he wouldn't keep it down or is doing things that make him less powerful allowed
"... This is it? The rumors made it look spine-chilling, not... this." A voice from his right side says, a bit far back. Further into the tent, then. Cyrus doesn't recognize the voice, but the words are familiar.
THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE LW TROPES OH MY GOD. when. when whenw when the weapon is expected to look scary and is not but WILL be scary... I don't like underestimation much in other stories tho for some reason which is weird. oh well!!!
The gloved hand on his neck squeezes, and he stops after a second of trying to figure out if it was out of frustration or a command to stand still.
No scolding comes, so it must have been a command. Or both.
ohhh :( he makes me sad I'm definitely gonna read the comfort ask
That voice he does recognizes in the very core of his being.
good shit 👍
Cyrus doesn't have time to feel ashamed of the words before a pressure on his neck commands him to kneel down. Even with the knee pads, a mercy not chosen by his handler, the impact hurts a bit.
:( he knelt fast then. man...
"Behave." Is what reaches his ear before the leather gloves are unfastened from his wrists.
oooo did wilson whisper that or say it outright?
Magic wraps around the metal gloves that were beneath the leather ones and bend it open. Cyrus didn't even hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do that. Maybe this gifted doesn't have a handler, he knows there's some free Gifted that serve the military willingly.
ANOTHER GIFTED!!!! also that's rlly interesting how his restraint is tied to another person's magic
Unlike Cyrus.
yeah I know </3 man this is a bunch of info I know cause I've already been exposed to bits of this story but for future newcomers this is probably necessary clarification
He obediently waits with unmoving hands until his handler applies pressure on his head in another silent command. No one speaks as the nullification glasses are unlocked from his bowed head, nor when his half-necrotic fingertips find the floor beneath him.
ugh he's so well trained
It's not grass, it's rocks. He suppresses a disappointed sigh.
I'LL GIVE YOU ALL THE GRASS EVER SWEET LOVELY BOY </3
The metallokinetic does in fact have a handler, and a black eye. He can't see anyone else, they're all behind him for safety.
That black eye must hurt, there's probably more bruises under the clothing, it never stops at just one.
Cyrus shouldn't care that the gifted was hurt. But he did. They deserve someone to care.
aw man :( yeah he really cares like that! it's genuinely remarkable tbh
"You have permission to use your power, Wither." An uncomfortable eagerness blooms in him at the words.
aaaaaaaaa? wilson my beloved he's so cold
"Yes, sir," Cyrus whispers and his collar beeps, its blue lights turning red as magic comes to life under his skin once again.
ooooooo :D I remember wondering why the art of him showed him with blue lines in his collar when he was a threat level red!!! fascinating :3
It took less than a minute for him to spiral into euphoria this time.
the description of the withering magic is amazing and also pretty long so I don't wanna paste it. but man it's good
Faintly, he knew his lips were moving, in that same eerie murmur of always, singing words he couldn't understand, but also couldn't forget. An incantation that breaks the laws of nature. A chant that was never created... only repeated. The echo of something that always existed.
And so he repeats. From the words, waves of withering magic follows the colorful branches and pushes it forward.
going back to this chapter from wilson's pov, you said it's a fan ver of the tangled hurt incantation? "wither and decay, cease this misery. break this earthly chains, and set the spirit free. bend it to my will. steal the sunlight's glow. take their final breath, and let the darkness grow"
A warm mist swirls on his arms pleasantly. Something similar started filling his eyes, and Cyrus's head was pure delight. His chest shudders with a bubbly feeling as a smile grows on his face.
veins in his eyes!! last time they went black taking cyrus out of the euphoria took 3 days 👍 I rember >:3c
Cyrus didn't even know he had made a noise until the collar beeps again with a warning electrical shock. With a flinch, he goes dead quiet.
(from wilson pov chapter) The weapon knows better than to complain or move without being told to, but Handler gives it a warning electrical shock at the almost pouty whimper. It flinches and goes dead quiet.
aaaaaondonfbofnof sobbing he got shocked for whimpering and didn't even realize until it
Cyrus wants to keep using his magic, why can't he? It's so warm and happy-
I remember you mentioned his species is way better suited for warm climates :(
"Mmn?" The order takes a second to click. "Oh... yes, sir..." To speak was hard, his tongue didn't move the okay he wanted it to.
YESSSS THAT WAS THE ORIGINAL INTENT OF THE PROMPT RESPONSE I DID!!! you changed it from "okay" to "yessir" :000
Should he even be speaking, actually? Wilson doesn't usually like him speaking. Did he say "Sir" as he was supposed to? He doesn't think so... but no shock comes. Perhaps he did. It's hard to remember.
you did say this is unreliable narrator! in the wilson pov he still says "okay" so now I'm curious if he did misinterpret his own informal wording to formal wording
The floor seemed to spin beneath Cyrus when he stood up.
the thehthehthe
He still couldn't hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do it, maybe it had been a silent command.
poor metallokinetic whumpee :(
He feels the leather gloves being fastened on his wrists, too, before Mr. Wilson grabs him by the upper nape and guides him out.
oooo so he has gloves on when not working got it got it. leather! I assume it's to avoid skin to skin contact? or his hands are the most effective conduit and the higher-ups don't want him touching anything with his hands?
On the way back, there's no longer any murmuring. Even blinded, he knows everyone is just staring. There's only the sound of heavy steps and the wind slowly bringing the smell of death into the camp.
feared whumpee my beloved
Blindly, he's pushed to sit inside his resting capsule. Oh, that's right, he's at a campaign, his den isn't here... the sad longing only lasts a second.
yeppp you said he's used to being guided blindly in the rp we did. also den??? anyways here's the link to said capsule cause I wanna look at it
The thin mattress is cold, and the restraints are too tight.
!!!! he gets a mattress <:D
Cyrus hates the cold,
ough I know </3 poor baby
Cyrus hates the cold, but it feels so weird, he can't help but giggle. It sounds off, but he can't pinpoint why.
"Quiet," Mr. Wilson scolds sternly, fastening his legs securely inside the capsule. Cyrus flinches and tenses from the upcoming shock that doesn't arrive.
What a silly thing, to flinch from something that didn't even happen. He suppresses another fit of giggles.
>:( wilson when I fucking get you
The pressure building up behind his eyes and neck is getting harder to ignore. His fingers twitch with the need to use his magic again, but the nullification doesn't let him.
oooo is his collar nullifying it? or the gloves? capsule??? I think it's the collar
𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.
Now the shock comes, and Cyrus's flinch is not so funny this time. It wasn't just a warning shock, but he doesn't know why he has been punished. Mr. Wilson doesn't clarify it, either. He's scared of not knowing.
the euphoria narration thing is. so fucking good man. but why'd he get shocked?? this isn't in the wilson pov chapter 😔
The twitches are getting worse. He wants to move. The cold is starting to creep in again, and he wants the warmth back.
someone please give him a blanket istg. I know this is a different kind of cold but can he have a blanket :(
His hands move slowly under the temporarily loose restrictions, trying to relieve some of the painful nervous energy without grabbing Mr. Wilson's attention.
!!! sneaky :0
It doesn't work. His handler always sees everything.
a
also love that. “his handler always sees everything.” !!! love love love that love the sheer amount of fear and expecting danger
"Did I say you could move, Wither?" Cyrus freezes from the gelid tone. His shoulders go up chastened just before a gloved hand fists his hair harshly.
HE'S NOT EVEN ALLOWED TO MOVE WITHOUT PERMISSION??? I mean I expected that but damn. also gloves again. is it a military thing or is this the skin contact thing
That'll form a knot later... he wants to wash up and detangle his hair already, before it gets too bad.
From how harsh Mr. Wilson's grip is, he doesn't think he'll be allowed that so soon.
pfft I love those moments of like. passive caring about everyday stuff in whump. they're funny but then they're not funny
"Stop trying to be sneaky, that's the only warning you'll be given." Cold and firm as always. Frightening as always.
HEY DON'T CALL HIM SNEAKY I DID IT FONDLY >:(
"Yes, sir," Cyrus answers quietly. It's weird how he still feels afraid and sad even when he's feeling giggly and euphoric.
ough.. he's so scared poor baby
He doesn't want to talk, he wants to move.
What weapons want doesn't matter.
HE SAID IT!!! HE SAID THE LW LINE!!!!! HE SAID ITTTTTT
He tries again. "I'm... I won't be sneaky again. I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson," he tries. The hand leaves his hair without any further words.
:(
So you can kill more people with it?
No. What? No, no, no-
Your handler stopped you before the euphoria truly took place. Where is your gratitude, you vile thing? Why must others die just so you can smile?
That's not what he wants, he just... he just wants the colors back, the happy feeling of-
Of killing.
The memories of colored forms change. These were people.
People you killed.
D: man I don't even know what to say this is just rlly fuckin good. guilt my beloved
"Are you crashing already?" Comes the distant, cold voice. It takes long seconds for Cyrus to recognize it's Mr. Wilson's.
YEAH I THINK SO!!
Crashing. Yes. Yes, he's crashing, and he's still on war camp, so he doesn't even get his white den-
okay what is the white den?? is it his usual cell with nothing in it?
...swallowing hard. He tastes blood. He knows it's not his.
huh??? how come he didn't get physically close to any of it
Cyrus's back presses against the capsule mattress, and he can barely separate what is real touch and what isn't. Sharp goosebumps run up his arm, his hands are being held, there's a pressure on his chest and a numbness on his left leg.
is this unreality?? eh
"It's euphoric state was pretty fast this time, it was a good timing to retrieve it," Mr. Wilson's out loud thinking reaches his ear along with a faint noise of screams that mustn't be true.
They're true, you're just hearing them too late.
"Today will be easy, then."
Cyrus couldn't disagree more with his handler.
WOW!!! love the logic and treating cyrus like so much of an object wilson can just talk out loud while he's there. also lemme go get a thing from the wilson pov drabble
As always, it's an active effort to not show any discomfort. If Whumpee sensed uneasiness from its handler, then everything would go to shit. This type of weapon needed a constant, firm, and steady structure.
YEAH!!! this. this thing
man. I love cyrus. I love wilson. I have so many feelings about them both... I rlly love handler whumpers those are so neat I love cold whumpers that are professional. wilson has such a presence in this chapter. cyrus is so cute I wanna wrap him in blankets...
AAAAAAAAAAAAAA ME WHEN HIM ME WHEN HIMMMMM
I loved how this was like. stractured eith the euphoria and conediwn and everything. I also love how despite everything cyrus is still so caring towards others it's so. ough </3
I think that's all I have to say rn pjdondnod I might make a repost with more but probably not
Sweet Creature
Content: magical living weapon, dehumanization, "it" briefly used as pronoun, dangerous whumpee, magical euphoria, shock collar, sensory (visual) deprivation, manhandling, military whump, implied institutionalized whump, magical slavery, heavily implied mass murder, hallucinations.
(chapter 1) | next chapter ->
(Curse of Withering masterpost)
Cyrus wishes to at least have a look around while outside. It would only be a military camp, soldiers walking around, tents set up, maybe some horses on one side. Not a very pleasant nor interesting view.
But at least he would be seeing the sky, and the grass, and people.
He's not. He's seeing pure black from behind his nullification glasses, being guided by an unrelenting hand on his neck, just above his heavy collar. Not even allowed to feel skin, only the tough material of a glove.
Around Cyrus, talk dies down, and muttering comes to life, as he's used to. It never stops making him feel ashamed.
Also not allowed to curl up or hide in any way, he's just dragged forward to keep walking.
A strong sensation of nausea hits him when they enter his designed post tent of this campaign. It feels like the protection barriers put around the tents are getting stronger each campaign.
Being on an empty stomach doesn't help, either. Regret fills him from refusing breakfast, but he's sure his stomach wouldn't have kept it down anyway.
"... This is it? The rumors made it look spine-chilling, not... this." A voice from his right side says, a bit far back. Further into the tent, then. Cyrus doesn't recognize the voice, but the words are familiar.
The gloved hand on his neck squeezes, and he stops after a second of trying to figure out if it was out of frustration or a command to stand still.
No scolding comes, so it must have been a command. Or both.
"Wait until you see it destroying a whole military camp while laughing like a maniac," Mr. Wilson says. That voice he does recognizes in the very core of his being. And by the coldness of it, his handler is audibly used to that question as well.
Cyrus doesn't have time to feel ashamed of the words before a pressure on his neck commands him to kneel down. Even with the knee pads, a mercy not chosen by his handler, the impact hurts a bit.
"Behave." Is what reaches his ear before the leather gloves are unfastened from his wrists.
Magic wraps around the metal gloves that were beneath the leather ones and bend it open. Cyrus didn't even hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do that. Maybe this gifted doesn't have a handler, he knows there's some free Gifted that serve the military willingly.
Unlike Cyrus.
He obediently waits with unmoving hands until his handler applies pressure on his head in another silent command. No one speaks as the nullification glasses are unlocked from his bowed head, nor when his half-necrotic fingertips find the floor beneath him.
It's not grass, it's rocks. He suppresses a disappointed sigh.
Cyrus knows better than to look around or shift from his position, but he's still able to see a bit of the tent's inside. The metallokinetic does in fact have a handler, and a black eye. He can't see anyone else, they're all behind him for safety.
That black eye must hurt, there's probably more bruises under the clothing, it never stops at just one.
Cyrus shouldn't care that the gifted was hurt. But he did. They deserve someone to care.
Mr. Wilson blocks his vision of the gifted by crouching down. The direct, practical delineation of where the enemy camp is sinks into his mind easily as his handler speaks. It's easy to map in his head exactly where he needs to focus on.
"You have permission to use your power, Wither." An uncomfortable eagerness blooms in him at the words.
"Yes, sir," Cyrus whispers and his collar beeps, its blue lights turning red as magic comes to life under his skin once again.
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.
Pain doesn't even register in the sea of feelings building up in his body. The rocks puncturing the palms of his hands aren't nearly enough to ground him, not after years of the magic slowly numbing his nerves.
The tent disappears and all he can see is colors erupting from the blackness, like thousands of little roots travelling through the grass. Ignoring the surrounding life had become easier over the years, and the withering knew to travel until it's closer to the delineated area than to him before branching to reach all soldiers of the other side.
It took less than a minute for him to spiral into euphoria this time.
Faintly, he knew his lips were moving, in that same eerie murmur of always, singing words he couldn't understand, but also couldn't forget. An incantation that breaks the laws of nature. A chant that was never created... only repeated. The echo of something that always existed.
And so he repeats. From the words, waves of withering magic follows the colorful branches and pushes it forward.
His hands crack and dug further into the ground, and he repeats the chant again. Again, again, again...
𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗.
Cyrus could see, or in a way feel, the life bursting out of the enemy's camp. It was hard to separate what was greenery and what was people, but it didn't matter in the end.
Wither magic fills the entire enemy camp with thousands of black ramifications that only he sees the colors of. Growing, rotting, decaying.
Every cell in his body beams with giddy energy.
A warm mist swirls on his arms pleasantly. Something similar started filling his eyes, and Cyrus's head was pure delight. His chest shudders with a bubbly feeling as a smile grows on his face.
And then everything goes black. The cold, painful reality crashes down on him, harshly taking all the cheerfulness away and leaving behind an itch, a hysteric uneasiness. A faint beeping of his collar tells him he's done today, it had turned blue again.
Cyrus didn't even know he had made a noise until the collar beeps again with a warning electrical shock. With a flinch, he goes dead quiet. An argument was happening over his head.
Cyrus wants to keep using his magic, why can't he? It's so warm and happy-
"It was fucking smiling, it is fine to keep on! What is the point of having a weapon that can't be used?!" A man behind him almost yells. Not the same one from before, a slightly more familiar one. It might be the general, but without seeing it's hard to be sure.
Yes, Cyrus was fine to keep going, he was! It's been less than a minute with the nullification glasses back on, but he misses the colorful cheerfulness already, his body is taut with the need to move, to do something, anything.
But Mr. Wilson is right there, so he stays obediently still.
"I'm not telling it to launch an attack again! The magic would consume it's head and-" Mr. Wilson pauses, and Cyrus recognizes his temper rising. It's an effort not to flinch. "Ugh, you have no idea how bad it gets. Wither. Up, we're leaving."
"Mmn?" The order takes a second to click. "Oh... yes, sir..." To speak was hard, his tongue didn't move the okay he wanted it to. Cyrus could hear the ecstatic smile on his own voice, and he almost winces at it, but without knowing why. To smile was good, wasn't it?
Should he even be speaking, actually? Wilson doesn't usually like him speaking. Did he say "Sir" as he was supposed to? He doesn't think so... but no shock comes. Perhaps he did. It's hard to remember.
The floor seemed to spin beneath Cyrus when he stood up.
A gloved grip squeezes his arm and Cyrus knows to stay completely still, despite the dizziness. Magic envelops his hands as the metal gloves are bent to fit them again. He still couldn't hear the metallokinetic's handler telling them to do it, maybe it had been a silent command.
He feels the leather gloves being fastened on his wrists, too, before Mr. Wilson grabs him by the upper nape and guides him out. The sound of many boots around them tells him the escort team is here already.
On the way back, there's no longer any murmuring. Even blinded, he knows everyone is just staring. There's only the sound of heavy steps and the wind slowly bringing the smell of death into the camp.
The heavy metal door shuts with the escort team outside, and the only steps that echo inside the container are his and Mr. Wilson.
Blindly, he's pushed to sit inside his resting capsule. Oh, that's right, he's at a campaign, his den isn't here... the sad longing only lasts a second.
The thin mattress is cold, and the restraints are too tight. Cyrus hates the cold, but it feels so weird, he can't help but giggle. It sounds off, but he can't pinpoint why.
"Quiet," Mr. Wilson scolds sternly, fastening his legs securely inside the capsule. Cyrus flinches and tenses from the upcoming shock that doesn't arrive.
What a silly thing, to flinch from something that didn't even happen. He suppresses another fit of giggles.
The pressure building up behind his eyes and neck is getting harder to ignore. His fingers twitch with the need to use his magic again, but the nullification doesn't let him.
The pressure gets worse.
𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚞𝚜, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎.
Now the shock comes, and Cyrus's flinch is not so funny this time. It wasn't just a warning shock, but he doesn't know why he has been punished. Mr. Wilson doesn't clarify it, either. He's scared of not knowing.
The twitches are getting worse. He wants to move. The cold is starting to creep in again, and he wants the warmth back.
His hands move slowly under the temporarily loose restrictions, trying to relieve some of the painful nervous energy without grabbing Mr. Wilson's attention.
It doesn't work. His handler always sees everything.
"Did I say you could move, Wither?" Cyrus freezes from the gelid tone. His shoulders go up chastened just before a gloved hand fists his hair harshly. That'll form a knot later... he wants to wash up and detangle his hair already, before it gets too bad.
From how harsh Mr. Wilson's grip is, he doesn't think he'll be allowed that so soon.
"Stop trying to be sneaky, that's the only warning you'll be given." Cold and firm as always. Frightening as always.
"Yes, sir," Cyrus answers quietly. It's weird how he still feels afraid and sad even when he's feeling giggly and euphoric.
Euphoric. Didn't that word mean something important? The headache is getting worse.
Mr. Wilson's grip only grows even more painful. There's more to be said, but Cyrus's head is not working well. He doesn't want to talk, he wants to move.
What weapons want doesn't matter.
He tries again. "I'm... I won't be sneaky again. I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson," he tries. The hand leaves his hair without any further words.
The need to move only gets worse in the silent. He knows Mr. Wilson knows. Cyrus's body is so tense it hurts.
He needs to use his magic, he needs to. It hurts, it's bad, he wants the giddy energy back, and not this nervous, restless cold creeping in. Everything is still pitch black, and the restraints are too heavy, and he wants his magic free again-
So you can kill more people with it?
No. What? No, no, no-
Your handler stopped you before the euphoria truly took place. Where is your gratitude, you vile thing? Why must others die just so you can smile?
That's not what he wants, he just... he just wants the colors back, the happy feeling of-
Of killing.
The memories of colored forms change. Those were people.
People you killed.
"Are you crashing already?" Comes the distant, cold voice. It takes long seconds for Cyrus to recognize it's Mr. Wilson's.
Crashing. Yes. Yes, he's crashing, and he's still on war camp, so he doesn't even get his white den-
Images strafe his mind. People died. People were killed. By him. And he was just smiling. He giggled to people losing their lives. Not only soldiers, there were medics, and servants, and-
A cold, sharp thing runs his arm and he flinched away, swallowing hard. He tastes blood. He knows it's not his.
Vile thing. You're a plague on earth that should be eradicated.
Cyrus's back presses against the capsule mattress, and he can barely separate what is real touch and what isn't. Sharp goosebumps run up his arm, his hands are being held, there's a pressure on his chest and a numbness on his left leg.
"It's euphoric state was pretty fast this time, it was a good timing to retrieve it," Mr. Wilson's out loud thinking reaches his ear along with a faint noise of screams that mustn't be true.
They're true, you're just hearing them too late.
"Today will be easy, then."
Cyrus couldn't disagree more with his handler.
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Want to see Mr. Wilson's pov? This is the drabble this series began as. You can consider it a loose version of this chapter, but in Mr. Wilson's view.
Taglist: @whump-till-ya-jump @floral-comet-whump @paingoes @bonbonbobomb @inhurtandincomfort @half-duck @scoundrelwithboba
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/609caa39088f6fe5fe5beb12a61f15db/8ad74c771d880f61-fd/s540x810/d4905c84654665124f43a6bcd874af4813bcf5f9.jpg)
Look at this boy. He is sleeping hard! Eyes scrunched closed tight he's like I don't care how loud the TV is....I AM SLEEPING!!!!
#blu❤️#dogs#he sleeps#until his ears hear the slightest sound of someone getting up from their chair#then the head pops up instantly#it waits to see if you are leaving the room to forage for food#it follows if you leave#with high hopes#i feel so much pressure not to disappoint him#*sigh*
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Yeonjun about the strain he felt while preparing for his debut solo project ✙ "GGUM" MAKING FILM
#yeonjun#choi yeonjun#tomorrow x together#txt#ggum: making film#gifs#creations#userzaynab#useryeonbins#skyehi#rosieblr#megtag#hibiebear#heyiri#ultkpopnetwork#kpopccc#kpopco#this are like the rawest emotions we've seen from him... I feel... it's really sad to watch him like this#i mean I know they're under lots of pressure and stress#It's only natural when you work with so many people who you could potentially disappoint#and I know it was his choice to make this solo project happen now but i feel like the company could manage his schedule better#because why he films till 3 am and then right next day has a flight to another country for a concert...#and now we know from soobin they're super busy again#I'm worried his body will just say 'enough' one day and something bad will happen :(#and you have him work so hard and stress and then all this losers online whose biggest achievement is getting 100 likes on a post#writing the worst things about him for no reason... its not that hard to be kind and you dont need to have an opinion about everything :D#at the end of the day that celebrity you hate so much is still pretty and successful#and you're just a friendless jobless empty-headed rotten fool with likes on a post that mean nothing once you close the ap#I'm just glad all this is still fun for him and that he has such a great support system: his members family staff who care about him and us#all we can really do is support them and send them lots of love fr ;; you've done well my jjunie ily ♥
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Is it fair to say that Tee is a need?
Tee is a need, yes.
If the front office isn't able to make that work, would you be disappointed in that?
I'd be very disappointed in that, yeah.
#here take a compilation from today's presser of joe raving about tee#and being VERY assertive (aggressive) about how important tee is and how much joe needs him#how he'd be very disappointed in the front office!!!#talk about putting pressure on!!! joe doing the best he can with his influence!!! love to see it!!!#also i think it's so interesting to hear joe talk about how involved he wants to be in the offseason WITH the FO making decisions!!!#control freak <3 but also i do wonder how much influence and pressure he actually can provide??#like i trust him more than the brown/blackburn family at this point#let joe be GM too! fuck it!#god this is all so crazy WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN#when did the three of them (because i'm assuming ja'marr is going to be involved on his end at the very least)#decide okay we'll take this into our own hands#when they realized this season wouldn't go anywhere??#and it was supposed to be their last big hurrah together??#and they were like. no we're not accepting this is how it ends#it ends with us winning a super bowl together. there's no other option#because i'm just. i'm emotional. i'm feeling lots of things about this!!!!!#i love them so fucking much oh my god PLEASE let this work out my heart can't take it#joe burrow#tee higgins
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.
#ok im making one more dot post and then i am (hopefully) getting off tumblr and going to bed#liam payne#death#i do suggest not reading tbh because its just gonna be waffle. anyways#ive distanced myself from the boys for years for a multitude of reasons. mainly that they did things that disappointed me and i realised the#way i was attatched to them was unhealthy. so for the most part i listened and enjoyed the music and didnt pay Much attention to anything#else. and like liam. i always liked him in the band days because to me he was the underdog. the underappreciated and probs less stanned one#out of all of them. and when youre a fan i do feel like a lot of us just wanted them all to be appreciated. idk. but anyways yeah i did feel#for him. due to him backgroud growing up. his talent. etc etc. even though he wasnt my fav. and even when he did something wrong my teenage#self still defended him like my life depended on it. (embarassing) anyways. his solo music while it was not my fav i still occasionally#enjoyed. its just over produced pop like it was fine and i found it fun. in terms of him as an actual person by this point in his career i#didnt pay attention to him or the others that much anymore#and like. yeah as of recently as more stuff came out about him being kinda weird and rude and abusive 🙃🙃🙃 that was kind of the final#straw for me! like in terms of me giving a fuck about him. if he eventually came around cool but i wasnt gonna wait around for it.#god this whole thing feels so dramatic but i need to get it oit or i Know i will not be at peace lmao anyways#so yeah come to hearing about his death which. i hear about because of trin lovell on twitter like. shsvshs. anyways my reaction was#disbelief and just... nothing? like i said in my brain i had just disregarded him honestly. and even now i still just feel speechless.#to summarise my feelings. fuck him for how he treated his ex and probably other women as well. but also. he was my boy. he'll always be a#part of me. and it feels weird that hes just. gone. he suffered a lot with addiction and pressures etc and its just. sad that hes gone now.#that he never got to get better. and he wont get the chance to. im sad for his family. and anyone else thats gonna be affected by this#im always gonna remember him.#and thats all i have to say. honestly part of me feels SO dramatic for even typing all this out but here we are.#if anyone has read this far and wants someone to talk to im more than happy. and also just wanna make clear that i am fine#le text post
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imsoo normal about guys byw
#sprry this is the start of my downfall im actually going to theow up and vomit and die#fronting daily actually sucks!and i have no restraint on my curiiusity and i have to figure shit out and i literally want to die#cause like i found out shit i didnt want to and its entirely my fault too bro i cant even be upset cause i went looking for it ughhh#i should be allowed to die afterschool so i dont have to feel anything else tbh thatd be a pleasure great thing whwatever#this is genuinelky the repeat of my downfall again literally september all over again and its just march jesus fucking fhrist bro need todi#the nervous system is so dumb what is ooottfvgvsh or whagevr i hate that dumbass acronym i hate healrhcare#serenity save me 🙏 save me serenity 🙏 come home#everyone keeps sayng that but qith donald trump#anyway back to me i need to scream and not just to serenity cause i feel bad🤭 no emojis are tood enougu anymore bro im going to kms#killing myself so fucking hard like a vampire driving a stake through his heart sort of shit ykwim like a siren drowning ro sokething poeti#save me sid 🙏 sid save me actually hed laugh at me for hthis lowkey which is soo deserved cause real bro why am i breaking down at midnight#on a dchool day too bro again and again i dont want to go to mf schooll and be obsessed w k. hes fine but i genuinely cant do my work#lowkey would iet be weird to talk to my ex ab my relationship with him cause like yea i miss him ykwim and i need closure but i got a crush#cause like on one hand its like i was the one who brokenup ykwim like even if the circumstances werewei4d whatever its like why would i hav#the right to even bring it up and i alr crushed on a new guy and like ignoring the uguult i do like him ughh broni want to kms#i love love i just dont love lvoe for myself cause ugh bro i hare one guy idc ab his crushes but he made me hear ab them lke idc idek him#sorry u had a bad experience w bi girls like idk what u want me to say ??? surprise me too ??? tff ugh i hate love girls#i need a gf but the thoigjt of liking a girl genuinely deeply scares me to my core cause i like girls but ppl dont like that i do ykwim#all mu friends are fucking gay bro idek why im so worried ab liking girls like who is there to disappoint but myself and my entire family#noo pressure qt all being oldest and queerest like ok yeah its midnight happy new years. i need this blanket tobsuffocste me#sleep wrappedup alr like a borito burito i dek and its not enoughh i need a soul crushing embrafe to sleep#ok im done i got post vent clarity i need to sleep#post#erics tag#delete later#serenity needs this as a ref in the morning#i beed my mom to cry to but j cant tell her any of this id rather be eaten alive by bugsbro and if i just cry to her without a reason#shell fs go througj my phone and fimd out why anyway so wjats the pointtt my god i tqlk too much and vent too much#gota flair forbthe dramatics ivguess mb
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Everybody NEEDS to listen to the new Wild Life retrospective on Imp and Skizz's podcast. They got Grian called in and they give so many cool insights into the series (and honestly say so many things I think people need to hear)
Highlights for me:
Grian designed each wild card to be weaponized and wanted everyone to take advantage of them. He goes over each individually and all the thought he put into them and all the work the backend team put into their execution. He's rightfully really proud of them. Him gushing about Trivia Bot and how excited he was to show his friends the "coolest snail ever" is particularly sweet.
Skizz says discovering each wild card was a LOT of fun. He says something like "I can't believe as an adult I get to have so much fun." Impulse is really impressed with the execution of each, citing stuff like making it rain when the time one activated and the passive mobs spawning in before being replaced, and how the little details like that built excitement and tension.
Grian says how he understands that some viewers maybe just want more seasons of the essentially the same series, ie six seasons of just Third Life, but it's more important to him that the Lifers get to experience something new and fresh. He also doesn't like comparing each series, preferring to consider each one as its own thing.
Impulse can't wait to do another Life series, Skizz is equally excited but tries to hold discussion about it back since he doesn't want anyone pressuring Grian, who is palpably burned out. Like, you can hear how tired this man is. Grian says there will probably be more series since everyone is still enjoying it, but he's not trying to outdo himself and not to expect him to keep escalating.
Skizz always tries to do something new each season yet feels like he always falls back into the same habits and dynamics, but not this time: he feels like he got to explore a new dynamic with the Spanners and had a blast doing it. He and Grian gush about how much fun they had with their "big brother trying to keep his little brothers alive" routine.
They have a grand time making fun of Impulse and his "Sweats". Impulse is unabashedly still hungry to win a series.
Impulse didn't want to kill zombie Skizz, because of the five minute cooldown, but Skizz makes clear that he was really happy with being a zombie, even if there was a lot of doing nothing in between summons. He says it means a lot to him that he got to help with the burden of facilitating the series, even just a little bit.
Grian gives good insight into his personal life strategy: he does some things to deliberately test his relationship with other players. Standing in the Danger Zone was a trust exercise, testing Jimmy and Scar. Jimmy and Scar failed.
Despite Scar failing the trust exercise, Grian heard the disappointment in Scar's voice about the Snail Bot thing and immediately caved, but he's really happy that it led them to in-canon reconciling and becoming strong allies again.
Grian's favorite moment was making Jimmy pay for the failed trust exercise by blowing up the bunker, particularly pleased with his one liner of "it was always gonna be like this". He says Wild Life as a whole has been the most enjoyable series for him, even though he didn't get to have as much fun as the other players due to knowing all the wild cards.
All three of them gush over the scene of everybody failing to kill Joel as he teleports around, laughing about how it was straight out of a movie or an anime. Impulse feels like Joel took his superpower to a new level, but Grian reminds him the he didn't have an army chasing him around trying to kill him. They're all super impressed with how the finale turned out.
Some of the powers were assigned (Cleo, BigB, BDubs, Scar, Lizzie), some were random (Impulse, Martyn). Some were based on players' names, others on their personal narratives, but coming up with ~16 different powers without including any that would just be exploited for cheap instakills was really difficult, which is why there were so many espionage ones. Hilariously, Grian was hoping Scar would accidentally kill Jimmy by punching him off a cliff because of their ritual of trying punching in the earlier episodes. He also gave Scar that power because he knew Scar wouldn't feel bad about killing people with it.
Grian chose to give himself the mimic so he could show people how their powers worked if he needed to, and so that it wasn't given to somebody else who'd have to spend the whole session figuring out the mechanics of 15 separate superpowers and potentially dying because of it. And because he thinks its the coolest one and he wanted it (lol)
All around there's tons of fun details and stuff in this episode of the podcast and absolutely everybody should listen to it all the way through.
#wild life smp#grian#impulsesv#skizzleman#trafficblr#life series#bonus: grian is still disappointed nobody died in the big desert explosion in third life#but skizz remembers it as one of the coolest things ever#its super cool listening to the card breakdowns too#and how intricately grian tailored them for his friends#and the answer to pretty much every <why did you do BLANK differently?> question is#he wanted his friends to have a blast every single episode ;u;#he asked everyone if they had a good time after every session...
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Girl On TV
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f0ad1959eb3a087b5214334013bde59f/f102e5fd6b2f07a3-9e/s540x810/127c3c1b27ff52a0b5b70913ab1a6634ab0c29ba.jpg)
Pairings: Namgyu x Fem!Reader
Summary: After being humiliated by his not-so-innocent friends for being far too innocent, you decide not to be such a prude for once in your life
Warnings: Language, Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationship, Male Manipulation, Virgin!Reader, Coercion, Peer Pressure, Drug Use, Virginity shaming, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Sadism, Sadomasocism, Grinding, Porn, Corruption Kink, Pillow Humping, Mutual Masterbation
A/n: I love being a problematic Namgyu stan
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3f65e768b8eaa1a8ff02cfa3a1c74800/f102e5fd6b2f07a3-65/s540x810/9afee61a7c8def5e59380ae66c481b4b3601d98e.jpg)
You hadn't known it would come down to this.
Had you been told before you would be dragged to sit on his lap under the dim lights of Club Pentagon and made to see this... you might not even have some at all.
Perhaps if he had invited you under the guise of distracting you from academics for one Friday night, you might've been more open.
Less of a prude.
But you had never seen such a clean line of powder stretched across the table in your life. In fact your body burns with not only embarrassment at being in the proximity of such hardcore drugs, but your bones were also set alight in fear.
The arms that have been cradling your waist pulls you in tighter, making you feel smaller than you actually were on his lap. This is what you loved about him. He liked you. Your curves. Your face. Your everything.
You could stick this out, couldn't you?
You should.
"Woah," He calmly whispers into your ear. All at once, every morsel of discomfort is driven out by your overwhelming need to please him.
The club is dark.
The music is good.
Namgyu's pulled you onto his lap in front of an embarrassingly large group of strangers. Everything is perfect.
"What's wrong?" He's so attentiative, bending his head down to whispers conspiratorially into your hair. His voice drowns out the oppressive rap song being performed on the center stage on the ground floor of the club and for all of five minutes its just you and him and the cocaine. Buy mainly, just him.
"You're strung up." He whispers.
You're quiet for a few tense minutes, wondering if you should voice your concerns and risk having him disappointed in you for not having fun like he intended.
"I don't know if I'm too comfortable."
"Here?" You hear him whisper, slightly poking his head forward to nudge his nose into the back of your neck, "With me?" He's using that petulant almost needy voice of his when he's inebriated and it tugs at something deeply troubled inside you.
"Not with you," you reassure him, "With that-" you nudge your head forward slightly, leading his half-lidded eyes to the long stripe of cocaine marring the table. "And your friends," you reluctantly murmur, letting yourself sink against him as if he had the power to scare these drunken people away. As if he wasn't forcing you here, amongst them at all.
"You know Thanos is a big name in the club scene-" He begins and you cut him off by sighing very loudly as you resch forward to grab your glass of water off the small, reflective table.
Thoroughly annoyed because he's sung this song before.
"I know, Namgyu but-"
His fingers weave into themselves around your waist, securing you against him like a baby, "Just be cool for like 40 minutes- maybe and hour-"
Your blood pressure skyrocketed as you turned back to shoot him, not only a look of immense incredulousness but betrayal.
"Namgyu, you said you wanted to take me out- yeah? Not your friends-”
"-Then we can get out of here, and I'll give you all the kisses you want."
You sigh heavily once more. “You didn't say anything about-"
He loosens his grip from your waist before standing up, forcing you to stand up in the process.
"He's coming," he whispers, keeping his eye off into the distance. His attention is much not on you and your present moral struggles.
"This is work, baby, you know this-"
"Namgyu- I have a test on-"
He pinches your side as a new guest enters the section. "Shh." Namgyu whispers at the same time the guest's boisterous hollers cause you to quite literally flinch.
"Yo, Namsu!" He's dripping in gold chains and purple hair. "Who is this fine Senorita you've brought with you?" He asks despite having two women under his arm. "You trying to outdo me bro?" Thanos takes a seat directly beside you and Your boyfriend.
"This is my girl-" He says at the same time Namgyu pulls you back onto his lap.
"It's Nam-Gyu-" you say through gritted teeth. "Not Nam-Su." Your eyes are narrowed at the man who only listens and smiles.
You glare daggers at the man before your boyfriend taps you slightly, reminding you to answer. “I have water- so no thank you." You say before mumbling, "I'm not a snitch either-"
"Is she partaking with us?" He asks your boyfriend, despite looking right at you. “Or is she a snitch?"
The girl under Thanos' arm snickers. "Water?"
You once again, tried to crawl further into Namgyu's lap.
He, thankfully tightened his grip around your waist, never letting you go as he conversed in inebriated chatter with Thanos. The more drugs they consumed the louder they got, until Namgyu started flailing his right arm wildly while he told a story, still having somewhat enough sense to keep a languid grip on your waist.
Somewhere, amongst all the useless chatter, you decided to add in your two cents, snickering quietly to yourself as you mumbled over the rim of your glass, "I've actually never watched porn before-"
"What do you mean you've never watched porn before?" Your eyes widen when you realize you'd spoken louder than you intended to and one of Thanos' girls snicker loudly. The sound carries across the table to his degenerate friends and their girlfriend's and causes a whole new wave of laughter to be birthed from your embarrassment.
You begin to squirm in Namgyu's lap.
Despite the drugs and the loud music, the two of you were having such a nice evening... You never fancied partying much and yet, your boyfriend had to sink his claws into you to get you to agree to one night of partying. The consequences of that decision are playing out in front of you.
"You've been banging a virgin this entire time?" Thanos asks Namgyu the same time and nameless girl says-
"Even I've watched porn."
Despite the anxiety flooding your veins at being the center of unwanted attention, Namgyu's grip around your waist is firm. It keeps you grounded. It tightens around you now, nudging you against him like his nose at the nape of your neck.
"Have I?" Namgyu asks with his eyes as hazy as the city caught in dusk. There isn't alcohol on his breath, only a light dust of snow under his nose.
"Have you what?" You ask, staring down at your trembling hands.
"Been dealing with a virgin this entire time?" He asks, unraveling your very private life to a room full of strangers. He's high. And incredibly loose with his mouth. You have to find it in you to take his inebriation into account but you only feel annoyed.
“Is that why you don't do drugs with me?"
"I don't do drugs with you because I actually value my health-"
"Sick burn," Thanos snorts in his little corner.
Your eyes widen. Your throat tightens.
These aren't your people.
Your people are nestled in the university library, cramming one final time before their semester tests.
Yet here you were, caught under a thick cloud of smoke that had your throat burning, all for a boy.
And admittedly priceless one.
"Don't be an asshole." You turn to glare daggers at him.
"Don't be a prude-" he shoots back. A few locks of hair fall from behind his ear as he watches you with a darkened gaze. "Is that why we haven't had sex yet?" Your heart plummets, "cus you're a virgin?” Namgyu asks. You don't know which side he's on.
"Woah!? A virgin in the flesh-" Thanos hollers, staring at you like a specimen in a petri dish. He nudges the girl under his arm, "I'd cheat on you if you ever tried that shit with me.”
"I know!" The girl responds before turning to look at you with dazed, dilated pupils. "Aren't you scared he's gonna do something if you wait too long?"
These aren't your people.
"If Namgyu wants to sleep with someone then by all means-"
You wrestle out of his iron grip, thanking God for the water that's keeping you sober and steady on your feet.
"Ooh, spicy, spicy-" Thanos mumbles
"Can I go please?" Namgyu keeps his hand in yours, looking up at you with a deadly glare.
"Nah, you leave when I leave, I'm still working-"
You pull your hand out of his.
"I have a test on Tuesday. Goodnight.
Its not like you thought he would follow you. Namgyu was especially selfish, as was the case for most addicts. Right now, you imagine him snapping out of his daze, leaning back over that table, tucking his hair behind his ears as he snorted up whatever Thanos wanted him to.
You didn't think you were being followed and so you feel thoroughly and completely alone once you get to your apartment.
Despite being completely alone this evening, you still try to hide what you're watching on your phone. Your headsets are pulled over your ears, your head reclined against the arm of the couch while your blankie was pulled over your supine frame. You hadn't exactly planned on watching porn this evening but the group's bullying had left you curious.
The girl projected on your phone screen looks up at the actor about to rail her insides. "You've been a bad girl,"
You roll your eyes into the back of your skull. This was precisely why you refrained from mainstream porn. Some of the best stuff was either in your audio files or in your reading list. Visual porn never did much for you- until you scrolled a little too far down to a new, more promising video.
The actress has a crimson handprint on her ass, as her dom forces her to ride her pillow. Despite the difference in skin tone and the overall mediocre acting, you were having a considerable amount of fun imagining yourself in her place. You thought about an invisible collar clamped around your throat with a big, strong, domineering man loomed above you, forcing you to push your clit right up against-
The more you slipped into a pleasure filled haze. You watch with bated breath.
"Sh-it-" you nearly fall off the couch. Your phone plops out of your slippery hands, right onto your face and your headphones slide off. Standing above you, is Namgyu, trying to fight a grin off his face as he stares down at you. You look up at him with wide, frightened eyes.
"Wh-when did you get back home?" the words barely leave your mouth before Namgyu's grabbing your phone.
"Naughty, naughty girl," He doesn't seem surprised to see the contents on your screen. In fact, the only giveaway that he saw anything at all is the slight flicker his eyes make towards you, before he stares back down at the phone.
"H-How was 'work'?" You're desperately trying to steer your attention away from the blatant porn on your phone screen, away from the smirk on his face as he bites his lips, away from his exposed tattoos in his short sleeve shirt.
"Work was work." He replied, still watching the porn, "I'm high as shit." He says casually as he disappears into the bedroom, your phone still in his hand.
"Hard too." He says when he returns. Your phone clutched in one hand and the large teddy bear he bought you for your 21st clutched in the other hand. You furrow your brows up at him, confused when he takes a seat on the couch. Your feet against his thigh as he clicks a few buttons on your phone before seating the giant teddy bear beside him.
He grabs the remote before pressing a few buttons.
You freeze when you hear the moans first.
Your gaze catches the TV.
There, the girl from your screen rides her pillow and you're forced to watch.
You're almost too embarrassed to feel turned on. Ungluing your eyes from the TV, you instead watch your hands in your lap.
He places a hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He's sitting comfortably on his side, remarkably unfazed by the girl's pornographic moans.
"Fuck the bear." Is all he says, as he leans against his arm and he strokes your chin. Petting you.
"Wha-"
"You gonna make me ask again?"
It's something in his tone and his hazy, half-lidded gaze that kickstarts your senses as you languidly stand on your feet. You're trembling and he reaches out to interlock your hands in his. Namgyu loved how eager yet innocent you are for him. He can see in the clumsiness of your movements that you were already slipping into subspace. With trembling fingers, you reach up to the thin straps of your pyjama dress and he nods his head.
"Should I take off my panties too?" Your voice is small.
Namgyu tilts his head. "You even have to ask?"
Behind you, the girl's breathing doubles and her moans increase.
"Better hurry or she's gonna cum." He taunts, watching like a stone statue as you mount the bear seated beside him. Namgyu's breathing catches as you straddle the bear, your movements tense and uncertain.
"Fuck the bear-" you lower your cunt onto the fur material and you moan, having not realized how wet you'd actually been this entire evening.
"That's it- fuck." He spreads his legs, leaning back more as he lets his hand brush over the tent in his jeans.
You don't moan because it feels good. It doesn't. Not immediately at least. You moan because Namgyu is watching. Reclined against the couch as his eyes stay on you.
"Ride the plushie like the girl in the video." He says. Your throat dries when he continues to languidly stroke his hand over the bulge in his sweatpants.
"Fuck- Gyu," he knew when the nickname fell from your lips that you were done for.
You both were.
Your eyes steadily roll to the back of your head as you grind your pussy against the bear, already creating a wet spot.
Behind you, you heard the girl moan and whine and somehow that spurrs you on.
"So fucking needy-” you gasp when you feel a hand cupping your exposed breasts. Namgyu reaches over to tweak your nipples just as his other hand finally slips inside his pants.
"Crane your fucking neck back. Try to watch the slut make herself cum." When you do, your hips stutter hard and your clit twitches.
"You watch her." Namgyu commands, stroking his exposed cock, "I'd rather watch you."
As you watch, his mouth runs. Namgyu swore a lot but it doubled when he caught himself in the throes of arousal.
“You look just like that bitch, you know that?”
Your mouth snaps open as you watch her. Your expression is pained.
“You want everyone to think you're such a quiet little girl but your just a slut, yeah?” He speaks lpuder, “Just my fucking slut- fuck.” It nearly causes you to cum everywhere. Her hand is pushing down on the face of the poor, poor pillow as she rides it. You can tell she's close.
Unable to look any longer, you turn back. Your hazy eyes meets Namgyu's dilated ones. He's stroking his cock, head thrown back against the back of the couch, mouth slightly ajar. His cock is throbbing in his hand and he squeezes, showing you the precum sliding down the length.
"Gyu, please-" you grinded harder against the plushy and Namgyu picked up the pace.
"You imagining me fucking you, huh?" He throws his head back, closing, his eyes momentarily close as his cock twitches in his hand.
"Fuck- I-" your clit was rubbing against the plushie just right. Namgyu's fingers mercilessly squeezing your nipples have you seeing stars. This friction was enough.
Fuck.
Air could be enough to let you come in this moment. All you had to do was buck your hips a little more- but the pain blooming across your breasts were distracting you from cumming.
"Please-" your whole body was trembling- "It fucking hurts!"
His mouth falls open at that, before leaning his head against the couch. He squeezes the base of his cock and you watch the precum slide down its length.
"Fuck, say that again-" he brings his head back before stroking his cock faster. "Fuck the plushie, baby," His hips move up from the couch to meet his hand. "Tell me it hurts again-"
He sits up to tweak your nipples again and you whine. "H-Hurts so bad-"
"Yeah, Princess, just like that," he groans, throwing his head back, "Such a stupid fucking slut-" he admits, voice groggy.
Somehow that final degradation has your hips twitching as your clit spasms and you slip into the stars.
The second you cum, Namgyu does too. Cursing and mumrering a quiet and slightly broken, "Fuck- such s-slut-" before reaching over to grab a fistfull of your braids. Your hips are still writhing, your eyes as blank as a corpse as he pulls you forward to spray his cum all over your face.
He squeezes his cock, unable to keep his pretty eyes shut as he watches you writhe and moan. "Fuck me-" he sighs.
"Don't watch this shit again." He says, huffing and puffing. "It's bad for you."
In a second, he presses a button on the remote and the TV screen is black.
"If you need dick, come to me."
"You were making f-fun of me," you grumble under your breath, and you sigh heavily.
Your eyes are shut but you can feel him playing with his cum on your face.
"I wasn't making fun of you. I was just surprised. You're surprising." There's a thick layer of emotion in his voice. It has your body wracking with aftershocks. "You're not like anything I've ever experienced."
#squid game#squid game x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game smut#nam gyu#nam gyu x reader#nam gyu smut#namgyu x reader#namgyu#namgyu fanfic#namgyu smut
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Sex Tutor
Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
“So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2
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ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST
your adorable nerd boyfriend yunho ♡
"Yunho!" You walk into the studio holding a bag of carry-out food. "You still here?"
Yunho's head peeks out from behind the soundproof door, his eyes bloodshot and weary. "Couldn't get the harmony right," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the faint strums of an unplugged guitar. "Think I'm gonna need to tweak the bridge a bit."
"Aw, baby," You walk over, sitting the carry-out on a chair nearby and kicking the door behind you closed. "You're burning the midnight oil again. What's up?"
"I just-" he sighs. "Hongjoong asked if I wanted to help on the album and I said yes but it's just not coming out right. I'm no good at this."
Your face curls up as you giggle. "Yunho, are you kidding? You're, like, super fucking talented when it comes to making music! You literally wrote a song for me every valentines day and every birthday I had since we first started dating. Why are you so…down? What's with the sudden self-doubt?"
"I've just--been real stressed." He sighs. "I had a shit ton of promotions and a shit ton of practice and work to do and then having to work on the album I-"
"Then tell Hongjoong you won't be able to? You know he won't be mad. You guys have been friends for ages." You rub his shoulders gently, feeling the tension knotting his muscles. You smile warmly and push his glasses up his nose. "You're doing too much."
He rolls his eyes. "Sure. But I want to keep working on it. I wanna participate. I wanna help Hongjoong. Everything has just been stressing me out and we haven't done anything with each other in ages-"
"What do you mean? I hangout in the studio with you literally every time you come in here." You furrow your eyebrows and then pause realizing what he means. "Oh..~"
Yunho nods his head. "Yeah, but it's not the same. I've been so busy, I feel like I've lost touch with everyone, especially with you." He turns to face you, placing the guitar aside. "And I don't wanna disappoint him. I know he's counting on me."
"Well do you want me to help…?" You tilt your head and place your hand on his thigh. "Help with the tension?" You say with a cheeky smile.
Yunho laughs, the first genuine one in hours. "I'd love that," he says, leaning back into the chair and closing his eyes. "But I actually meant with the music."
"So you don't want head?"
He pauses. "Well, both, actually." He opens one eye and peers at you with a half-smile. "I mean, I'm not opposed to it."
You smile and get on your knees, scooting closer and grabbing the hem of his sweatpants. "Just work on the music. I'll do what I need to do." You start to massage his legs, feeling the tightness in his muscles slowly release under your skilled touch. Yunho sighs deeply, leaning his head back.
You bite your lip, pushing his sweatpants down and running your fingers over the bulge showing in his boxers. "Let's get these off," you murmur, your voice low and teasing. He lifts his hips slightly to help you, his breath catching in his throat. You never got over his size, and the way his body responds to your touch still sends shivers down your spine. As you pull his boxers down, his erection springs free, and you wrap your hand around it, giving it a gentle squeeze. Yunho groans, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours, full of heat and need.
With a wink, you lean in, placing soft kisses along his inner thigh, making him squirm. The studio's dim lighting casts a warm glow on his skin, highlighting the goosebumps that rise from your touch. The faint smell of sweat and the lingering scent of guitar strings mingle with his unique scent, creating a heady cocktail of desire. You trace the veins on his cock with your tongue, feeling him twitch in your grip. You look up at him, his eyes now wide with anticipation, and you take him fully in your mouth, sucking and teasing with the perfect amount of pressure. His hips buck, but he quickly stifles the sound, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the night.
"So pretty…" he mumbles, watching as you work your magic. The words are barely a whisper, but the intensity behind them sends a thrill through you. You've always loved this power, the ability to make him feel this way, to make him forget about the stresses of the world outside these walls.
You move your mouth up and down, finding the rhythm that makes his toes curl and his hands tighten in your hair. His eyes are glued to the sight of you, kneeling before him, your lips wrapped around him. The taste of him is familiar, but it never gets old, never fails to make your stomach flip with excitement.
He grabs your hair, guiding your movements, and you feel a shiver run through him. The quietness of the studio is only broken by the occasional sound of someone passing by outside, the distant sound of cars on the street, and the muffled thump of music coming from the other side of the building. It's a stark contrast to the symphony of your heart beating in your ears and the wet sounds of your mouth on his skin.
"You're so pretty, baby," Yunho whispers, his voice strained with pleasure as he watches you, his eyes hooded with lust. You look up, meeting his gaze, and the connection between you is palpable, a silent promise that no matter what happens, you'll always be there to take the edge off.
You moan around his cock, the vibration sending shivers down his spine. He's getting closer, you can feel it in the way his thighs tense and his breathing quickens. You pick up the pace, eager to give him the release he so desperately needs. The tip of your nose nuzzles against his pelvis as you deep-throat him, your throat tightening around his length.
"F-Fuck-!" he chuckles and leans forward, his hand gripping the chair's armrest tightly as he watches you in rapt attention. "Just like that, baby… just like that…" His voice is a hoarse whisper, his eyes glazed with lust as you continue your relentless ministrations. The way you take him in, the passion in your eyes as you suck him off, it's like nothing he's ever felt before.
You flutter your eyelashes as you look up at him, your eyes watering slightly from the effort, but the look of pure ecstasy on Yunho's face spurs you on. You feel the heat building in your own core, the friction of your own arousal against your thighs as you continue to suck and lick, bringing him closer to the edge. His grip on your hair tightens, and you know he's about to come.
His eyes are tightly shut, his head thrown back, and his breaths come in sharp gasps. You feel the muscles in his thighs tighten even further, and you know that he's on the brink. With one final, deep suck, you feel him pulse in your mouth, and he lets out a strangled moan as he releases. You swallow eagerly, savoring the taste of him, feeling his body relax as the tension drains from his muscles.
You only slow for a moment, now wrapping your other hand around his cock and stroking it as you swallow the last of his cum. You sit back on your heels, smiling up at him, your mouth glistening. Yunho's chest heaves as he looks down at you, his eyes still clouded with pleasure. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice raw and needy.
You smile, leaning back down and kitten licking his tip once again, gently sucking on his tip. He literally jolts at the sensation, his body still reeling from the intense orgasm. "Holy fuck, I just came-"
You chuckle in response, pushing his cock further in your mouth, enjoying the way he squirms. "You can always come more," you murmur, your voice muffled by his flesh. You love teasing him, pushing his limits, making him feel good. It's a power dynamic you both thrive on, one that has grown over the years of your relationship. You swirl your tongue around his sensitive tip before popping it out again. "Can I get one more?"
"I…" he sighs, his body still trembling slightly. "I'm not sure I can handle another one right now." He opens his eyes and looks at you, his smile lazy and content. "But, if you want…"
"You've handled it before." You purr, stroking him gently, watching the pleasure play out on his face as you bring him back to full hardness. The challenge in your tone is clear, and it ignites a competitive spark in Yunho's eyes. He nods, a silent agreement to let you continue your sweet torment.
With renewed enthusiasm, you swirl your tongue around his shaft, feeling his cock twitch in response. Each touch, each lick is met with a soft gasp or moan, his hands tangling in your hair as he guides your movements. The studio's ambiance adds a layer of intimacy to the moment, the muffled sounds of the world outside seemingly fading away as you focus solely on bringing him pleasure.
The overstimulation of his senses is almost too much for Yunho to handle. He watches you, mesmerized by the way your eyes light up with mischief and desire, your mouth a perfect "O" around his cock, your tongue flicking and teasing with the finesse of a pro. The way you manipulate him is like an art form, a symphony of pleasure that he's all too willing to succumb to. He leans back into the chair, his legs spreading wider to give you more access, his body arching off the seat slightly as you deep-throat him again.
He opens his mouth as if he was going to say something, but no words come out. Instead, he releases a low groan as you continue to suck him off, your movements deliberate and practiced. The sound echoes faintly in the studio, sending a thrill through you. You've always loved making him feel this good, reducing him to a puddle of need and desire.
His groans even started turning into whimpers and it was the sweetest sound in the world to your ears. You could feel your own arousal building, your pussy throbbing and wet, begging for attention. But you knew you had to focus on him right now. You sucked harder, your cheeks hollowing as you took him deep, feeling the warmth of his cock in your mouth, the pulse of his blood beating against your tongue. You could tell he was close again, his body tensing and his breaths coming in short gasps.
"Fuck-" he whines, gripping the arm rests so tightly his knuckles turn white. "Oh my fucking god,"
You laugh around his cock, feeling the vibrations from his voice resonate through your mouth and into him. The sound spurs you on, your movements becoming more urgent. You can feel your own orgasm building as you watch him lose control. You've always had this effect on each other, pushing each other's boundaries, finding new ways to make the other feel alive.
"Fuckfuckfuck," his glasses even started to fall off his face. You giggle, reaching up with one hand to gently push them back up, not breaking the rhythm of your mouth. His eyes are now fully open, watching you with a mix of amazement and lust. "You're gonna make me come again," he whispers, his voice strained and desperate.
You nod, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You're enjoying this, the power you hold over him, the way he's at your mercy. You increase the pace, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth, stroking and sucking with a fervor that leaves him trembling. The studio's air feels thick with desire, the scent of sex and sweat mingling with the faint aroma of music equipment.
"Fuck, Y/N," he gasps. "Fuckfuckfuck, I-I'm-" He can't even form the words as his hips thrust upward, meeting your mouth's eager suction. His orgasm crashes over him, and you feel the warmth of his cum fill your mouth once again. You swallow with a satisfied smile, feeling the muscles in your jaw relax as you release him with a final kiss to the tip.
You stand up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, watching as Yunho slumps back into the chair, his body boneless with pleasure. He opens his eyes to look at you, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "Thank you," he murmurs again, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Now, how about you?"
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miguel putting up with his girl’s princess attitude
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“miguel!” you call out from the bathroom as your fingers delicately fix the straps of your bodycon dress. “can you come here for a minute?”
miguel sighs, this is the third time you keep calling him knowing how busy he is at the moment. work has gotten the best of him, and if reinventing new techs back to back isn’t enough to drain him, he has to keep up with your needs daily.
does he has the courage to say no to you, though? nope. as much as he hates to admit it because it’s embarrassing, he’s scared of you. if the spider society think that Miguel is too frightening then they have not seen you get mad or being a brat.
“coming, baby!” he walks out of his office while taking off his glasses, rolling the sleeves of his henley shirt to his elbows.
the bathroom door is left wide open, immediately seeing you standing before the mirror in a long and tight fitting grey dress that falls just around your ankles. and just like that, his annoyance completely washed off,
he takes a good look at you. eyes slowly observing every single detail of your face and down to your body. the way that dress hugs your curves and accentuate your best assets should be a crime,
God, you’re such a perfection.
“shut your mouth before you catch flies, babe” you jokingly say as your fiancee stares at you with his jaw slightly agape. “mind helping me?”
Miguel clears his throat after, slightly smirking as he shrug his shoulders. he leans against the door way with his arms crossed, eyes never leaving yours.
“you look absolutely divine, mi amor.” he comments, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “is that new?” he points at the dress,
rolling your eyes playfully, you try to keep your composure still. even after three years of dating—now engaged— he still manages to make your heart skips and create butterflies in the pit of your stomach,
“I know” you reply in confidence, winking at him which he chuckles in return. “and yes it is! it’s SKIMS! got it yesterday, does it look good on me?”
he frowns, tilting his head to the side. “baby, you already know the answer to that come on now… you make anything look sexy.” he strides closer to you as he stands from behind you, “now, què necesitas?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips
you find it attractive how he towers over you, and it’s one thing that you love about him. it’s not that you’re petite or anything. but compared to how tall and big he is, you’re definitely tiny.
“straighten my hair for me please? I can’t reach it” you pout at him through the mirror, “just this part right here” fingers move to the back to touch part of your hair,
“ay dios mio, woman… you’re lucky i love you” he teases before grabbing the iron from the sink. “going out with the girls, mami? i assume lunch?” he asks as he starts parting your hair with one hand,
your head shakes, straightening the dress. “no, I’m doing cake testing today and wedding dresses … Darla is bringing three more flavors.”
he stops what he’s doing, giving you a confused look. “alone? cariño why didn’t you tell me? you know I’d come with you” he feels a bit disappointed and now guilty that he’s busying himself with work and instead you’re left dealing with your wedding, alone.
his hand rests on your shoulder and you move yours on top of him. “hey, it’s okay, Miggy… you’ve been so stressed lately i do not want to put more pressure… it was last minute anyway, she texted me this morning.”
“you’re my girl, i would never be too busy for you.” he says almost too fast,
giving him a sincere smile, you nod your head. “yes… i know, baby. trust me it’s okay…plus it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in a wedding dress” you giggle a bit. “we can go over the seating arrangements again together, yeah? i promise” you plant a soft kiss on his finger,
Miguel exhales a sigh, still feeling tiny bit upset that he won’t be there to keep you company. “okay, fine… tell Darla that keep vegan options open for the cakes.”
“noted, honey.” you tell him as he continues to straighten your hair, “is everything okay with work?”
he nods, eyes too fixated on your long hair, not wanting to mess up a single strand. “just running over a few reports and fixing few minor defects on the techs and my suit…the last guy did quite a number on me.”
“hmm i love it when you speak science to me” you comment, watching him laugh a bit at your flirty remark. “but you still need to be careful. i do not want to see my future husband all bruised up when i walk down that aisle or else I’ll leave your ass.” your tone comes off demanding and firm, but it’s only because you care.
“yes ma’am” he replies, setting down the hot object down on the sink before slowly running his fingers through your hair. “there you go, baby” he moves your hair to the front, kissing your cheek and seeing you smile just makes him happy. knowing he’s done a great job.
turning around to face him, you stand on your toes to kiss his lips. “thank you, miggy… I’ll see you later, okay? we can go grab dinner outside and then movie night at 9?”
his heart warms at that and lips stretches into a large grin. “sounds like a plan.” then he lightly slaps your ass as you walk out of the door,
“let me know if there’s going to be bunch of assholes staring at you today, I’ll hunt them down and fucking kill them on the spot.” he mentions as if it’s nothing
and they say romance is dead.
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cake testing with miggy!
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In the hands of a madman 2024 ver
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Doctor!yandere oc x reader
Summary: a doctor is very peculiar about his favorite patient, and senses a threat once they disobey him.
Warnings: yandere, poison, murder, cuff restraints
Word count: 2.4k
You gag.
“Yes, yes, I know”, he coos, grimacing and removes the wooden stick out of your mouth. “I’m sorry.”
You're left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Why does he always stick that thing as far down your throat as humanly possible? You thank heavens that it’s not one of the needles extracting blood from your arm, although you’re sure that’s what’s waiting tomorrow.
“Still nothing?” you ask cautiously.
He meets your eyes and you know immediately. You sigh heavily. Your heart sinks to your stomach.
Every three months, he’s doing all sorts of tests to see if you’re getting better — or what’s what he’s saying. Every three months, Dr Kry has to check every vital sign on you to make sure that his sickness isn’t getting out of his control. But you don’t like them. They hurt. Badly.
“Will I ever get to go home? I want to.”
Dr Kry sighs and sits down on his rolling stool, coming over to your bed.
“I know you do, but you that’s not possible”, he says apologetically. “You know that too.”
“Yeah, because you keep reminding me”, you mutter.
“That’s better than giving you false hope, isn’t it? Wouldn’t that drive you insane?”
It would, but you don’t say it out loud. Doesn’t need to.
“I want to go home!” you say again, louder this time.
“Saying it louder won’t make you better or me change my mind”, Dr Kry says.
You sigh and press your palms to your eyes, trying to press the tears back into your eyes before they escape. You’ve been here for too long by now. You’ve been isolated for so incredibly long. ALl you want is to go home. You know no one, talk to no one beside him. The proper, sophisticated man who’s stiffer than a stick. Dr Kry sighs and moves closer.
“I know that you’re disappointed”, he says and puts his large hand on your shoulder. “But this is for the best. “I don’t want you to get worse.”
“I hate these fucking tests! They hurt.”
“I know.”
He glances towards the white air purifier on the shelf beside the bed. The poisoned air purifier. He’s always making sure it’s not too much, not too little. Just the exact amount to keep you where he wants you — weak and vulnerable, dependent on him.
“I know it’s hard”, he says encouragingly. “I know that you’re in pain, but you’re doing so good. You can always call for me if you need me, okay? I’m available all day and night for you.”
You press forward a smile, but can’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. Why did this happen to you? Where did you go wrong to end up here? How could a sore throat get you bed bound in a hospital room? If only you knew.
“Let’s get you tucked in again”, Dr Kry says and helps you lie down in bed. “You shouldn’t be putting to much pressure on your body.”
He pushes up your pillows, having you lie in a 45-degree angle. It helps you breathe at night. He always tucks the blanket close to your body, as if you were a butterfly in a cocoon. He gives you a small smile before standing up.
“Please don’t go”, you whisper. “I don’t want to be left here.”
The man looks at you, studies you carefully before nodding and sitting back down. He wipes your lonely tear with his finger. He looks at his wet finger, thinking.
“I feel helpless”, you admit. “I don’t think I’ll ever get well again.”
Little do you know that’s exactly what he wants.
“It’s okay, Y/N”, he says. “I will take care of you. I will stay with you until you’re well again.”
He has to force back a smile.
“I don’t want to do these anymore”, you say monotonously.
“I know you don’t, but you have to”, Dr Kry says apologetically and moves closer to the bed on his rolling stool. “They’re important.”
“They hurt …”
“I know, but you’re doing so good, okay? I’m so proud of you.”
You give him a small, painful smile.
“I’ll sit here until you fall asleep, don’t worry”, he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You close your eyes slowly. He fades out.
He takes blood tests the following day. Needles, pain.
“Now, you need to take a nap”, he says and tucks you in.
The daily afternoon nap. You hate it, but he insists. While you sleep, he’s out taking care of other patients that are not you. He hates it, hates wasting his time and skill on people that aren’t you. Those patients are one time patients that are there for surgeries, consultations or checkups. No long term patients that have to stay in the hospital. Everyone gets to leave after he meets them. Everyone but you. You stay.
You keep your eyes closed until Dr Kry leaves the room. Quickly, you sit up and get out of bed. After all these fucking tests, you’re deserving of something else than the tasteless cardboard Dr Kry gets you. Just one brownie. Something that has sugar. And maybe some coffee for caffeine too.
Quietly, you sneak out into the corridor. There’s something about these sterile passageways that makes the hair on your back stand on its end. Is it the dehumanized area or the fact that you’re never allowed here? Is it nerves or excitement? Whatever it is, you decide to speed up your steps and hurry towards the elevators before anyone sees you. They’ll tell him. Just as the doors are about to close, someone stops the doors. A boy dressed in a similar hospital gown as yourself forces his way into the elevator. He gives you a rushed, apologetic smile.
“Sorry”, he says sheepishly. “I am in a hurry.”
“What happened to you?” you ask and smile halfly.
“I escaped from the therapist. A real pain in my ass.”
You can’t help but giggle. The young man licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair.
“Have you met her?” he asks. “The therapist?”
“No”, you say.
You haven’t met anyone but your stiff and proper doctor.
“Don’t”, the young man advices you and leans his back against the wall. “She’s mental. I honestly think she should be the one getting interrogated — not me.” He looks at you, eyes narrowing. “I haven’t seen you before.”
“Do you meet others?” you ask.
“In the lounge. Have you been there?”
You shake your head and lower your eyes.
“Did you just arrive?” the man asks.
You shake your head again.
“How long have you been here?”
“A while.”
The elevator stops and the doors open at your floor.
“Are you going to the cafeteria?” the man asks.
“Yes”, you reply.
“I’m coming with you. Maybe you can help me blend in.”
“Okay.”
The boy seems frantic, but happy. Running on adrenaline and excitement. Together, you walk through the hospital to the cafeteria and realize that you don’t have any money. Your shoulders fall. Did you come here for nothing?
“Aren’t you going to order something?” the young man asks.
“I don’t know”, you reply quietly.
Before you have the time to come up with a lie why you can’t order anything, you recognise something in the corner of your eye. A blonde man dressed in a white robe. You feel your blood run cold.
“What do we have here?” Dr Kry asks and you have a hard time reading his tone or facial expressions. “What do you think you are doing out of bed?”
He walks over to you and grabs your shoulder. You flinch. His grip is … tight. Painful.
“You’re supposed to rest”, Dr Kry says shortly.
He looks at the young man. His eyes seem to go right through him.
“Where are you supposed to be?” he asks.
He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry gives him a cold gaze before grabbing your upper arm in a tight grip. He doesn’t say anything as he starts to pull you with him. His steps are quick, steady. Angry.
“Doctor …”, you try.
He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry pushes you into the elevator and presses the button. He doesn't let go of your arm.
“Doctor, I’m sorry”, you say.
He still doesn’t answer. You barely dare to look at him. There’s something about his face that scares you. It's stoic, unreadable. But he oozes anger. Like a dark cloud.
The elevator stops, the doors open. His tight grip remains as he drags you back into your room.
“Lay down”, he instructs shortly.
You do, too scared to disobey. Dr Kry walks past you, to the drawers by your bed. He rips out two leather bands that look like belts for dolls. Before you're aware of what he's doing, he's strapped one of your wrists to the bed railing.
“Wait, doctor-”, you blurt out.
“Be quiet.”
He locks your other wrist to the other railing. You tug at the restraints, and find them secure.
“Are they too tight?” Dr Kry asks, still with that short tone that sends icy needles down your spine.
“Doctor, what are you-?”
“Answer the question. Do they hurt?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He turns to his desk, ignoring you.
“Doctor, I'm sorry”, you say.
“You broke my trust”, he says without giving you any attention. “It's important, for your healing, that you do not deceive me. I need to be able to trust that you do as I say. How many times have you done this?”
“Only this time, I promise.”
He doesn't answer. You feel how your eyes fill with tears. Your body is in such a vulnerable state that your body betrays you. You didn't want to upset him, didn't want to put your own health at risk by doing this.
“I'm sorry, doctor”, you sniffle. “I didn't mean to break your trust.”
He sighs and turns his head to look at you. His blue eyes soften and he rises from his chair, coming over to your bed. He can't stay mad at you, not when you're clearly dumb. You don't understand, he can't be mad at you for not understanding. He should — and is — mad at himself for not foreseeing these situations and making sure you don't do it.
“You know that I only want what's best for you, don't you?” he asks and wipes your tears with his hand.
“Yes”, you reply.
“In that case, I want you to never repeat this mistake. Mistakes are forgivable, but they should be minimized, do you understand that?”
“Yes. Do you forgive me?”
He has to force back a smile. You're so unbelievably cute.
“Yes, I do forgive you”, he says.
“Can you take off the restraints?”
“No. I might forgive you, but I need you to know what happens once mistakes occur. This is the consequences that follow. If I can't trust you to be where I want you to be, I need to take precautions to make sure you are.”
You lower your gaze.
“Who was that, by the way?” he asks. “That young … man. Why did you speak to him?”
“I don't know, he took the same elevator as me.”
“I don't want you to speak with him again. If he's the one they're looking for, I don't want you getting influenced by his reckless ideas.”
“I don't get to speak to anyone, anyways.”
“And that's how it should be. We don't know why you're sick, and you shouldn't contaminate someone else.”
“What about you, then? You can get sick too.”
“I'm ready to take that risk.”
He's too nice, you think. All he wants is to take care of you and you put his selfless risks to hell when you decide to disobey him. How horrible of you.
“Now, you need to take that nap for real”, he says. “I will sit by my desk. If you need something you can just let me know.”
He walks back to his desk and sits down, starting to file some paperwork. You tug at the restraints. You're not going anywhere.
When you’ve fallen asleep, Dr Kry makes his way through the hospital. They’ve captured that young man and put him back into his room … and Dr Kry wants a talk with him. He opens the door quietly. The young lays in bed, sleeping. Dr Kry circles around him, taking a good look at him. Did you find him cute? Hot? Did you like talking to him? Did you think that he was better than him? Did you enjoy those ten minutes with him more than these months with Kry? Do you want to meet with him again? He glares at the sleeping man. Dr Kry walks over to the supply closet, an identical to the one in your room, and takes out one of the spare pillows. Silently, he walks over to the bed, lifts the pillow and presses it over the young man’s face. He widen his eyes, pulled out of his slumber. He screams against the pillow, his voice getting muffled in the fabric.
“Normally, I’d make this easy for you”, Dr Kry grunts as the man starts to fight against him. “Out of pity, but you don’t deserve that mercy.”
He screams in confusion, fear. Dr Kry can make out words. What. No. Help. Stop.
“Just give in and give yourself that mercy”, Dr Kry continues. “If you continue to fight against me, you’ll be in more pain.”
The man cries. Dr Kry breaks out into a smile.
“You’re going to die either way, you can choose to end it quicker.”
The young man doesn’t seem to get the memo. He continues to fight, cry, plead. He drinks it all in. The horror, the helplessness. The dear in headlight. He has seen the light in people’s eyes disappear multiple times during his job as a doctor. To see the moment someone becomes just a piece of flesh. He has never enjoyed it as much as now. The man stops moving. Dr Kry removes the pillow and takes a step back, looking at the lifeless body. He breathes out. Finally, he can calm down.
And now, all he needs to do is to make sure he can not be traced back.
He finds you sleeping soundly as he comes back to your room, wrists still locked to the sides of the bed. You make his heart ache. He sits down beside you, brushing his fingertips over your cheek.
I control your life, my little one. You’re going to say with me and I’ll take every repercussion to make sure you don’t disappear.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#yandere doctor#yandere fics#yandere oneshot#yandere oc
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