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breadbrobin · 10 months ago

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fate

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of apollo reader]

[part 2 to the trees]

summary: clarisse is being weirdly standoffish, and you’re not one to cave to that, no matter how much you like her. and no matter how things go, you still have to get your weapons from the forest.

warnings: swearing, arguing, fighting, monsters, PINING BUT THEYRE IDIOTS, everyone’s so mad at each other rn, kissing (AHHHH), canon typical violence, again probably slightly ooc clarisse but hey i love her anyway

word count: 3.2k

(uhhh so this is probably not what anyone was expecting for part two but this is how i alway a planned it, so here it is!! tag list in reblogs and also thank you for the love on the trees! i love you all so much <3 and i’d die for you just like clarisse and this dumb bitch here would die for each other)

(this is much more enemies to lovers than the first one btw so have fun)

———————————————

the day after capture the flag was always a little tense. of course it was. half the camp had just lost, and not many people at camp were good losers, especially not those who got their butts kicked.

this time, though, there was a new level of tension in the air.

ares kids didn’t often run the flag over the line themselves, and those who did were crowing about it at breakfast, then all morning too.

curiously, clarisse wasn’t. she was eating in silence, picking through her eggs like she was searching for something.

you’d never seen her like that before. no one had. but, it seemed you were the only person to notice. you always were, and you were okay with that.

your brother nudged your arm and shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off with a smile.

why was clarisse so down? she’d won. what did she have to be upset about? was she mad at you? did you do something to piss her off in the tree? she hadn’t seemed exactly happy when she left.

stuck in your thoughts, you didn’t realise she’d met your eyes until your brother elbowed you.

“ow! what do you want?” you snapped, rubbing your rib cage tenderly.

“clarisse is staring at you,” he said with wide eyes. “dude… what did you do?”

“nothing,” you scoffed and stood up, taking your empty plate to the stack of dirty dishes, trying—and failing—to not look at clarisse as you left.

“y/n, wait up!”

you slowed down for sam as he jogged to catch up to you. there was a newfound bitterness in your mouth when you saw him. you’d never liked him, not like he’d liked you, but you’d never felt like you wanted to be away from him. not like you did in that moment then. but where would you go? to clarisse? yeah, right, she’d laugh in your face, regardless of whatever happened—or might have happened—in that tree.

“what’s up?” you asked. you couldn’t help your voice being drier than usual.

“just wanted to see how those arrows did you? were they good? i can make some more, if you want.” he looked almost eager to do so.

you smiled kindly. he really was sweet. “they were great, thanks, sam. best arrows i’ve ever used, even if i didn’t get too much of a chance to use them.” your steps faltered. “i did leave one in the forest though. i’ll have to get that later.”

your eyes locked on clarisse as she walked towards you down the path. two of her siblings were behind her, laughing, but she wasn’t. in fact, her jaw was set tight and she was glaring. at sam.

“i could come with you?” he suggested. “watch your back. keep you safe, you know?”

clarisse scoffed as she passed. “she doesn’t need you to keep her safe, tool-box.”

that was a little mean. sure, sam carried his tool-box everywhere, but you never know what might need to be fixed! despite yourself, you had to hold in a laugh. your eyes were alight with amusement as you locked gaze with clarisse.

she looked proud of herself, a jaunty grin on her lips. you couldn’t help your gaze dropping to them briefly. she smiled wider. it was infuriating. she now knew what her effect on you was, and she was using it.

“if she needed someone to protect her, she’d come to me, right, angel?” she tilted her head.

your mouth was infuriatingly dry. you nodded. “uh—“

“whatever,” sam snapped. “come on, y/n. let’s go.”

you kind of wanted to stay, but his grip on your arm didn’t leave any room for an argument. you trailed after him as he left, glancing over your shoulder just in time to see clarisse’s face darken with anger.

“angel?” sam scoffed. “who does she think she is?”

“uh…”

“whatever. gods, she’s just so—“ he turned and faced you, almost causing you to bump into his chest. you’d never seen him so intense before. “stay away from her, y/n. seriously. she’s bad news.”

“she’s nice to me,” you protested.

“she’s not nice to anyone. don’t be naive.” he turned on his heel and started to walk away, then turned back, his face softer. “come on. do you want to learn how to weld? you said you did last week.”

did you? you didn’t remember that. but you did vaguely remember a conversation with sam that you spent zoned out and staring at clarisse as she trained, so that was probably it. “oh, no… i have to… train…”

he looked disappointed, but nodded. “okay, that’s cool. maybe another day. or maybe, we can… go for a walk together? or even have lunch on the beach?”

you nodded absently. “maybe.”

“great, it’s a date!”

you frowned. “it’s a what?”

he looked happier than you’d ever seen him. he even kissed your cheek before walking off, a new spring in his step. you stood there for a moment, eyes wide, wondering what the hell just happened. then you heard a scoff from behind you.

when you turned around, clarisse was walking away.

“clarisse,” you said softly, jogging after her. “clarisse, wait!”

“go hang out with your boyfriend, l/n.” she snapped, her arms crossed as she walked. “he’s probably waiting for you so you two can make out in that sweaty little sex dungeon they call a workshop.”

your eyebrows shot up. “okay, first of all, i’m pretty sure it is actually a workshop, and second of all, he’s still not my boyfriend!”

she scoffed again but didn’t answer, stomping up the steps to the ares cabin and stopping at the top, looking down at you.

you felt small under her gaze, but you didn’t back down.

“what are you doing here?” she asked after a moment.

“you said i could come get a new dagger,”you said.

she rolled her eyes and leaned on the porch railing. “and?”

you frowned, looking up at her. “and… i’m here to get one?”

she regarded you for a few seconds in silence, then, just as she was about to speak, a new voice called out.

“clarisse, are you giving out girlfriend privileges already?” one of her brothers, marcus, you thought, stepped into the doorway of the cabin and peered around her to look at you. he looked like a stereotypical son of ares: buff, tall and mean. “that’s cute.” he continued, looking at you like you were an animal in a zoo.

“she’s not my girlfriend,” she scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

well, that hurt.

“yeah, we’re just—“

“we’re not even friends,” she added hurriedly, not even looking at you. “she just thinks she’s special.”

your jaw clenched. that really hurt. “i don’t think i’m special,” you snapped. “i think i want you to honour your word from yesterday or go and get my dagger out of the forest for me.”

“not my fault you forgot your dagger,” she studied her nails nonchalantly.

“but if you hadn’t thrown my dagger out of a tree and tossed my new arrow aside like it was trash then i wouldn’t have forgotten. and maybe if you hadn’t leaned in like you were about to kiss me, maybe i wouldn’t have forgotten either.” your gaze was as sharp as hers was, meeting in the middle with fire and lightning crackling between you.

she stepped forward, face to face with you. for a second, you thought she’d punch you, but you didn’t back down.

then she laughed. it wasn’t at all like her laugh in the tree the day before. this was her cold, cruel laugh that she usually saved for her victims. with a start, you realised that’s what you were: another victim of clarisse la rue. your heart broke for a split second before you pulled yourself together and straightened your back, meeting her eyes.

“kiss you?” she snickered. “get your head out of your ass, angel, you’re not all that because you can shoot a bow and climb a tree.”

you stepped closer to her, so you were right up in her face. “and you’re not all that because you scare away everyone who cares about you, just because your daddy’s a little mean. you don’t need to be a bitch about everything.”

you regretted it instantly. you’d gone too far. you knew that.

her face dropped and a hurt look flashed through her eyes, but it died as soon as it came to life.

you stepped back and turned, marching away.

“where are you going?” she called after you. “we’re not finished here!”

“you have something else to say to me, clarisse, you come find me!” you shot back, your voice hard. you didn’t start arguments often, but goddamn did you finish them.

you stomped into the forest, determined to find your dagger and arrow so you could prove to both clarisse and sam that you were capable of more than just shooting arrows from trees and running away from fights.

it was darker today. the clouds that covered camp half-blood permeated through the forest, leaving a heavy weight suspended among the trees. the air felt thicker, even, and the birdsong seemed quieter than usual. was there something around? something hanging in the air, waiting to attack you? drag your body back to camp and leave it on clarisse’s doorstep like a cat bringing in a dead bird?

or was your fear just because you were alone instead of with the rest of camp.

whatever it was, it put you on edge.

there was a clicking sound behind you, like someone was cracking a joint, but when you turned, no one was there. you weren’t foolish enough to call out.

you could feel a chill going down your spine, and that’s when you knew: the first shoe had dropped.

your eyelids fluttered and you nearly dropped to the ground, but you leaned heavily against a tree to catch yourself. typical. go out on your own, thinking you can take care of yourself and you get hit with a premonition. how’s that for fate?

you let the feeling wash over you; the pure panic of the near future and the warm grip of a hand on your wrist, like someone was pulling you along.

the future was not looking promising.

there was another clicking sound behind you as you finally managed to straighten up, much closer this time.

you turned around.

the bushes were rustling.

you suddenly realised what that clicking sound was.

mandibles.

two ants the size of german shepherds burst through the foliage. myrmeke.

there was the other shoe, dropping real hard.

“shit!” you stumbled backward, reaching for a weapon. you had no weapon. “double shit!”

you turned and ran.

the ants were fucking fast. they could have caught up to you if you weren’t so agile, turning and springing off in different directions every few steps, sending them careening into trees and rocks. that was the only thing keeping you alive.

where even were you? you didn’t recognise this area. hopefully you weren’t running directly for their anthill. that would be a real twist of fate.

then you burst into a new area, this one with a large tree—a large tree that you recognised.

“yes!” you exclaimed, dashing for the trunk. you found your dagger easily, then your discarded arrow too. you didn’t know what good they’d do against the myrmeke, considering that their shells were as hard as armour and, while force was good in some cases, you had to admit that sharpness may have helped you against them.

you couldn’t run anymore. your screaming lungs told you that. you couldn’t climb either. the ants could climb better than you and you’d be a sitting duck up there, no matter how high you went. but maybe, just maybe, you could hold them off until they got bored or someone realised you were missing.

it wasn’t easy, but you managed to deflect and dodge the myrmeke’s attacks. they were fast, but you were faster. you even managed a swipe at one of their legs as you rolled past, but all it did was leave a tiny chink in its armour.

you were beginning to lose hope.

honestly, what you wouldn’t give for a spear right now. your blunt dagger and slim arrow were about as good as a toothpick against these monsters.

just as you were backed against the tree that you’d once found a safe haven, you heard a battle cry. you could have sobbed from relief, but instead, as the spear-wielding figure landed on top of one of the ants, driving her weapon into the gap between its armoured plates, you took your opportunity to stab your arrow with as much force as you could into the other ant’s gaping mouth, slipping it precisely between its mandibles and, hopefully, into its brain.

it jerked back in pain and screeched, the sound making your ears ring, but it didn’t die. instead, it looked rightfully pissed off, and now it had an arrow sticking from its mouth.

as your saviour pulled her spear from the ants back, a warm, brown liquid sprayed on you. it smelled like ants always did after you crushed them, just a million times worse. you wondered if this was revenge for all the ants you’d murdered in your life.

“gross!” you exclaimed, wiping it off your face.

“grow up, bows, we gotta go!” clarisse. your saviour was clarisse. of course.

just as you were about to protest, two more myrmeke crept out of the forest towards you.

she gripped your wrist, right where that warmth was in your premonition, and dragged you away, making you drop your dagger in the rush.

“i dropped my—“

“save it!” she snapped, pulling you along.

the desperation in her voice kicked you into gear and you started running faster, alongside her now.

you didn’t use the same tactics as before. instead of dodging, you just ran as fast as you could and prayed that the myrmeke would be slower. clarisse seemed to know where she was going, at least.

“you’re such an idiot!” clarisse yelled as they ran.

“we’re doing this now?” you panted incredulously.

“you could have died!”

“we’ll both die if you don’t stop yelling at me!”

finally, gloriously, you breached the edge of the forest and stepped into camp. the myrmeke wouldn’t follow you there.

you dropped to you knees, panting and staring into the forest. clarisse was standing in front of you, her spear ready, just in case.

you’d stepped into a quiet part of camp up behind the amphitheatre, so there was no one around to see you, and no one around to help you. you had a feeling that if the myrmeke didn’t kill you, clarisse wouldn’t hesitate.

once it was clear that they weren’t following, she rounded on you.

you were still on your knees, your legs too tired and shaky with adrenaline to stand, but she didn’t seem to care.

“what were you thinking, going in on your own?” she snapped.

“well i wasn’t expecting to get attacked by killer ants within the camp’s borders!” you protested.

“everyone knows they’re there.”

“i forgot, okay? i’m not perfect.”

“oh, i know.” she rolled her eyes.

“gods, would you just fuck off?” you finally stood up, face to face with her. “you’re horrible sometimes, you know that? i can’t believe i’ve defended you.”

“i don’t need your defending.”

“and i don’t need your help!”

“you would have died!” she yelled, emphasising every word.

“but i didn’t!” you shouted back.

she rolled her eyes and stepped closer, anger practically radiating off her. “yeah, thanks to me. you’d be dead if i hadn’t followed you in there—“

“why did you follow me?” you asked suddenly, voice harsh.

“what?”

“why did you follow me?” you asked again, slower. “i didn’t ask you to look after me, clarisse.”

there it was again. that slightly relaxation of her shoulders when you said her name. it drove you nuts. you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss her for hours or throw her to the myrmeke.

she tensed up again and turned to leave. “whatever. i’m done here.”

“i’m not!” you gripped her shoulder and pulled her back around. to your surprise, she didn’t pull a weapon on you. “why did you follow me, clarisse? was it the same reason that you were flirting with me yesterday? and why you’re so protective of me? and why you hate sam?”

“i wasn’t flirting with you,” she grumbled. “and i hate sam for… personal reasons. and i’m not protective of you! why would you even think that?”

“that’s all bullshit and you know it,” you sneered.

“gods, you aggravate me!” she exclaimed.

“you didn’t have to come help me,” you scoffed, stepping back. “i didn’t ask for your help.”

“and i didn’t want to help you!”

“then why did you? huh? you could handle not winning a fight? you wanted to finish the argument on your terms?” your eyebrows were raised and your face was cold. “or were you gonna beat me up but the giant killer ants got to me first?”

she looked like she was about to explode with anger. “because i love you!”

the air escaped from your lungs in one sharp moment, and it looked like hers did the same thing.

“what?” you asked, your voice softer.

it was silent. she looked like she was trying to find something to say, but couldn’t. her mouth opened and closed weakly, and she shook her head, lips pressed together. you wanted to kiss her.

so you did.

she tensed up as your hands came to her waist, pulling her body and lips against yours hard. then, finally, she relaxed. she dropped her spear at your feet and raised her hands to your hair, threading her fingers through the strands. she was a softer kisser than you’d expected, but it was definitely her. it was all her. the tug on your hair, the underlying, undeniable harshness of the kiss, the spear that rested against your foot. it was perfectly clarisse. you could have kissed her until the sun went down and the ants came and carried you both to their anthill, and if you stayed kissing her like this, you wouldn’t even mind.

when, finally, you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. all of the tension from the fight hid dissipated, leaving only a warm sparkling in the air, like a mirage around her face in the sunlight. maybe that was a sign? or a vision? whatever it was, it was heaven-sent.

she was smiling. she looked softer like this. gods, you loved it. it felt like fate, and you knew a lot about fate. fate was fickle. fate was cruel. fate brought you the arguments, the myrmeke, the terror. but fate also brought you this. this girl who was glowing in the sun like she was made of pure rays of light. the girl with a spear that she laid down at your feet and would save you barehanded if you asked. the girl who had sunk into your arms like she was made to be there.

“do you think i can get that new dagger now?” you asked cheekily, playing with the hem of her camp shirt. “i mean, i have girlfriend privileges now, right, babe?”

clarisse rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “shut up, devil.”

“ooh, devil. that’s new,” you teased. “i like it. it’s apt.”

“it sure is.” she looked down. “i’m… sorry, by the way.”

“me too,” you nodded. “i didn’t really mean any of that, you know?”

“‘cause you like me,” she said in a teasing voice.

“yeah, ‘cause i like you, or whatever.” you kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “and i know you like me too, because you so did nearly kiss me in that tree yesterday.”

she shrugged. “maybe. maybe not. guess we’ll never know.”

you found out at the next capture the flag game. and the next. and the next. she would go out of her way to find you, defeat you, then kiss you before running off to win the games. and honestly, you didn’t really mind.

fate was a fickle thing, but with clarisse by your side, no one could touch you. sam left you alone, people started treating you better, and you had everything you could ask for. her.

and whenever you two argued, you’d go into the woods together and kill some ants. after all, what says ‘couple’s bonding’ quite like murder?

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #dior goodjohn

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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 months ago

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"Safe and Sound.....Kinda" pt. 1

You went M.I.A and the LADS Men are stressed!

Zayne

MC: Lets get dinner when I get back from this three day mission Zayne: Im not sure whether you're brave or idiotic MC: What do you mean? Zayne: A hunter with ample heart issues agreeing to go on a three day excursion its risky MC: I'll be fine besides I have you to take care of me Dr. Zayne Zayne: How many of you are going on this mission MC: There's eight of us in total and I'm partnered with Tara

Two days have passed since Zayne spoke to you. Just one more day and he'll see your pretty face again. He smiled to himself "How childish" he mumbled to himself as his leg bounced with anticipation of seeing you soon. Just then his work phone rang "Dr. Zayne speaking"

"Dr. Zayne we need you in the ER stat" Yvonne's voice was much more stern compared to her soft easy going tone. This was serious. He stood quickly moving around his desk; throwing on his white coat not missing a beat as he made his way to the ER.

"Give me a rundown of the situation" Zayne said as Grayson jogged the catch up with him. "We have seven patients, two unconscious, and all severely injured, the hunters association told us they were on a mission that went wrong a frenzy of wanderers appeared through a rift"

Time seemed to slow as Zayne's mind swam through the possibilities that this could be for squadron. "Give me the names"

"Ceila 21, Terrance 24, Mico 21, Tara-"

"Tara? is MC among these patients?" If looks could turn someone to stone Grayson would be a statue in the courtyard by now. He quickly flipped through the pages on the clipboard searching for your name. "I don't see her name here"

"You said there were seven ... is someone missing?" Zayne asked as he could feel his blood pressure rising.

"Zayne!" Someone was calling his name. "Zayne!" The voice was coming from a pale woman with short brown hair. She had lacerations scattered across her body; her torn uniform hanging on by a thread. She was covered in bruises and was about to pass out from blood loss any minute. "You have to help her..."

"Help who?"

"MC ... she's still ... she's still fighting ....... alone .......... you have to find her" Time seemed to slow as reality set in. MC was alone with the wanderers who did this to her team. All the oxygen left Zayne's body in an instant.

"Dr. Zayne they're calling for you in the operating room" Yvonne yelled snapping Zayne out of his mental spiral. "Right, right tell them I'm on my way"

Your profile was flagged as M.I.A. after that day no one knew where you were

Three days.....

Five days.....

One week....

One week three days twenty seven minutes....

Time ticked by slowly tormenting Zayne. He couldn't sleep and his appetite was non existent. Dark shadows formed under his eyes from his late nights going out and searching for you. "Where did you go?" He dropped his head in his hands trying to control his emotions. Just then an unknown number flashed across his phone screen.

"Hello?"

???: Hello, this is Jenna I'm MCs Captain you are listed in her file as an emergency contact. I'm just calling to let you know that we found her, but she's unresponsive. She's being transported to Akso Hospital now......she has a faint pulse.

Zayne dropped his phone and booked it out the door heading straight for the hospital. You were battered, bruised, and bloody but you were breathing and that was enough for Zayne. You had to be put in a medically induced coma so he and the other doctors could stabilize you.

Zayne stayed by your side adjusting your pillows, checking you vitals, and settling into his nightly position sitting bedside with his head in your lap. Rubbing small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb as you lay there motionless. Slow steady breaths with nothing but the sound of the heart monitor melodically singing in the otherwise silent room. He'd wait as long as it would take for you to wake up. You have to wake up.

Rafayel

You were supposed to be back two days ago. Rafayel was losing his mind. "She has twelve hours to contact me before I burn the hunter association headquarters to the ground" he seethed through gritted teeth.

Thomas stood back as Rafayel's anger was radiating off him in waves. He could almost feel the heat of his evol burning his skin.

Next day...

"Are you even looking for her?" Rafayel yelled in Jennas face.

"You're not the only one worried about her sir she's M.I.A. with a damaged hunters watch we're having trouble getting a lock on her coordinates" Jenna smoothed her skirt as she stood from her desk to size up Rafayel. "If you have any suggestion I'm all ears"

"Find her or you can say goodbye to this entire organization"

"Is that a threat?" Jenna stood tall under Rafayel's searing gaze anyone else would have cowered away.

"Its a promise"

One week later...

There's a loud bang on the door of Rafayel's art studio. The sudden noise startled him. "Raf....." The softest voice came from the other side just as he could hear the person sliding down the door and the soft thud of them hitting the ground.

He rushed to the door recognizing your voice. "MC!" You fell backwards as he opened the door. He managed to catch you under you arms. "What happened? Where were you? Don't tell me this is your blood" A blood trail tracked the path you took he could tell you'd fell a few times just trying to get to the door. Blood was smeared down the door and was now slowly pooling underneath the two of you.

"I was so badass" You smiled as you looked up at his blurry face going in and out of focus. "This is not the time for jokes" Your eyelids were so heavy. You tried to respond, but your words came out slow and slurred. "I just....wanted.......to see...........you.....before I.........died" Your head fell back as you passed out from blood loss.

Rafayel scooped up your bloody body and rushed out the door trying not to slip. You were dead weight and your breaths were shallow he knew he didn't have any time to waste. He ran with you in his arms to the nearest hospital begging for help as he fell to his knees with you in his arms.

Like I said safe and sound....kinda.

Xavier & Sylus here ♡

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #lnds rafayel #lnds zayne #lads zayne #lads rafayel #nikaaaaimagine

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ln4smiamitrophy · 5 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 ————— part 1

𐙚 summary; the one where lando norris reunites with his childhood love at the Monaco Grand Prix and is convinced he’s over her. after all, it’s been 7 years. he can’t still love her, right?

ʚɞ pairing; lando norris x influencer!reader

ᡣ𐭩 fc; jadeybird on ig

⭒ type; irl x smau (there will be more smau in later parts)

⟡ a/n; i’ve come to realise that there aren’t many stories on here where the reader is mid/plus-sized. as a mid/plus-size girl myself, i personally can find it upsetting when there is mainly only representation of the body types that society deems to be conventionally attractive and not a lot of representation of others, they are common body types and they are attractive. i have struggled with body image in the past and i still do on occasion, if anyone who reads this ever needs anyone to talk to about this or literally anything else, feel free to message me and i’ll always get back to you. love you all, you beautiful people xx

comment to be added to my tag list <3

———————————————————————

Lando Norris loved the Monaco Grand Prix. Who didn’t? The history behind the race, the atmosphere, it was overall an amazing experience every year. And best of all, he was able to stay at home. When travelling so often meant never staying in one place too long, he was grateful for one time a year he could sleep in his own bed the night before a race.

It was race day and, as per, the track was as chaotic as usual. From the mechanics frantically checking to make sure the cars were ready for the race to the fans filling the track to the brim, it was hard to get a moment alone. In fact, Lando had barely had one since he stepped foot on the track. He’d been pulled into meetings and interviews left, right and centre.

Amongst all the chaos he finally has some time to himself as he heads to the track for the national anthem. He’s walking in silence, head down as he makes his way over. He keeps going over the strategy for the race in his head, he’s starting in p4. Overtakes are hard on this circuit, everyone knows that. All Lando wants this race is to preserve his tyres and hold his position.

It’s like the universe made it happen. Just as he lifted his head up, he’s met with someone he never thought he’d see again. Y/n. His first true love. They were together for three years, but when it became abundantly clear that Lando would be joining Mclaren for the 2019 formula one season, they couldn’t deal with the consequences that brought for their relationship, and ultimately it ended.

She doesn’t see him, and he’s almost relieved she didn’t. It’s been seven years since the end of their relationship, and yet upon seeing her he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she is. She’s changed, naturally, they were just teenagers when they separated. But she’s still as breathtaking as he remembers. He couldn’t be thinking about this. Not now. He pushes these feelings down, repressing them as much as he can as he finds his spot on the carpet and the national anthem begins. He needs to focus on the race.

———————————————————————

78 laps later and he was p4. Lando knew he probably wasn’t going to gain any positions during the race due to the circuit but he still can’t help but feel slightly disappointed in himself. Ever since his first win in Miami, since he was finally able to prove that he can win races, he’s craved it again. That feeling when he passed the checkered flag in first place, he wanted it again. It’s natural in his line of work to want to be the best, he’s surrounded by 19 other drivers who all want to be on that top step every weekend. But his teammate was p2, he was proud of him. Overall a good weekend for the team.

After the race was just as chaotic as the start, between interviews and press conferences and briefings, the only quiet time Lando gets is in between them. So that’s what he’s doing. Walking in silence towards the interview pen as his pr manager talks in his ear. He’s not paying attention to where he goes and so of course he has to walk into someone.

“Sor-“ He says looking up at them, expecting to send a small smile their way before continuing but that’s not what happens. “Y/n..”

“Lando…” Her voice is still as soft as it was all those years ago. He just gazes at her and neither makes a move to look away. That is until she clears her throat, looking down.

“How’ve you been?” Lando asks, a feeble attempt to get her to stay just a little longer. He doesn’t want her to walk away just yet. Just a moment longer.

“I’ve been well,” Glancing back up at him and he can tell she’s hesitant, he doesn’t blame her. Breathing out, she sighs before she speaks once more, “I watched Miami, congratulations on your first win.”

She still watched, she’d watched him win. He doesn’t quite know why he thought she wouldn’t; she’d always had a love for motorsports. It’s one thing they bonded over as teens.

“Thank you,” He can’t help the soft smile that graces his face. Lando mentally curses himself for glancing over her shoulder, being met with the slightly annoyed face of his pr manager. He should be in the pen by now.

He looks back at her, nodding. “I should probably go… it was good to see you.” She just nods at him, smiling softly, watching as he walks away.

Arriving at the pen, Lando takes a deep breath, forcing himself back into the driver headspace.

———————————————————————

Five hours later and he’s stood in a club, music blasting, bodies dancing all around him and he’s stood nursing the same drink for the past 20 minutes, taking with George. Normally Lando loves a party, out of the whole driver grid he’s the one you’re most likely to spot coming in and out of clubs on a Sunday night. But tonight he’s just not in the mood and he just can’t figure out why. Though he has reason to believe it’s got something to do with the girl he can spy dancing over George’s shoulder.

He can’t help but let his eyes dart towards her every couple minutes. He watches as she dances surrounded by people, laughing and smiling without a care in the world: he used to be able to make her do that. The countless nights they’d spend wrapped up in each other, talking about whatever came to mind, the soft giggles she’d let out anytime Lando said something even remotely funny as his hands would occupy themselves in her hair. They all came back to him as he watched her.

Clearing his throat and downing the rest of his drink, he turns to George, dismissing himself before heading to the bar and deciding he was going to drink away the thoughts of the girl that was seemingly occupying his mind like a plague. He certainly does just that and three hours later, Lando is black out drunk basically lying down in the back of a taxi as Carlos sits there with him, making sure he gets home safely.

———————————————————————

A groan immediately falls from Lando’s mouth as he wakes up with a hangover straight from hell. He buries himself under his duvet until he finally decides he needs something for the pain. Peeling the duvet off of his body, he stands up, jumping slightly at his phone ringing. It’s Carlos.

“Please remind me to never drink again,” Lando states the moment he answers the phone and he’s met with Carlos laughing into his ear.

“It’s that bad?” The spaniard asks and Lando can hear his smirk down the phone. Letting out a grumbled “yes” Lando drags himself into the bathroom where he keeps his painkillers.

“What even happened?” Carlos questions him, “Didn’t you say you weren’t gonna drink much?”

“I don’t know,” Lando sighs, swallowing the painkillers, finishing the glass of water. He’s lying. He knows why but he’s not going to tell Carlos that.

His mind drifts back to the short conversation he had with her the day before. The way she danced in the club. The way she laughed. Her smile. Shaking his head, he pushes it down. He ends the phone call with Carlos, making the excuse he’s going back to bed, hoping to sleep off the hangover.

But he can’t get back to sleep, he’s never been able to fall back asleep after waking up, envying people who find it so easy. After 10 minutes of trying, he finds himself hauling himself into his living room, sprawling out on the sofa and watching whatever Netflix recommends him.

He has no clue what he’s watching but then again, he’s not really paying attention. His mind kept travelling back to her. No matter what he tried. He told himself it was just shock. The shock of seeing her again. And before he knew it, he was opening instagram, typing in her name and clicking her most recent post.

———————————————————————

y/nusername

liked by yourbff, landonorris and others

tagged yourbff, scuderiaferrari

y/nusername monaco, you are so sexy

thank you @scuderiaferrari for the invite <3

comments…

yourbff girls trips with you are the best <3

⤷ y/nusername i love you <3

user1 y/n being an f1 girlie is literally the best thing to ever happen to me

user2 y/n just proving “hot girls love f1” to be true

scuderiaferrari loved having you around

*liked by y/nusername*

⤷ y/nusername loved being around

alexandrasaintmleux loved meeting you, we need to hang out again!!

⤷ y/nusername you’re an angel, we need to!!

user3 i wanna party with y/n so bad

⤷ user4 me too!! she’s deffo the most fun ever

yourfriend1 missing you :/

⤷ y/nusername missing you more honeybun

user5 lando in the likes??

⤷ user6 he’s in the likes but they don’t follow each other

———————————————————————

part 2 soon !!

taglist; @soamericn @urfavwelshie @realcherryjam @danielshoe @coastalrainae

502 notes · View notes

rcksmith · 5 months ago

Text

Sun and Water - Kaz Brekker

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: A LOT OF ANGUISH. Lots of mention of post-traumatic disorder. Curse words. Mention of death. Blood. Slave market. Mention of murder. VERY EMOTIONAL. VERY SWEET.

Word count: 4k

A/N: This one was very emotional for me. I cried writing with my playlist on full blast. I hope you love it as much as I do.

💕 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

------------

Ketterdam smelled of trickery, poison, desecration and danger. It was a dark place by birth that housed even darker people. Its soil was stained with blood and despair; of both Grisha and ordinary people. Their hiding places were for tormented souls who had long lost their humanity.

If you walked the wrong streets at night with an arrogant attitude, you would definitely not return alive. But if you turned south, and had a little money in your pocket, your feet would take you close to the huge, shiny, flashy casinos run by Pekka Rollins. You would pass clubs where the smell of beer mixed with cheating, and the laughter of drunks drowned out the screams of convicts across the boat harbor. The colors of these establishments ranged between red, orange and yellow, a vibrant explosion that, in such a funereal place, became infinitely more macabre.

If you were more adventurous, and had a little more money, you would pass by pleasure houses. With pink and purple facades, provocative titles and women perched in the windows, waving at any gentleman who smelled a fair amount of kruger, their chants insinuating and seductive. The silk pieces of these places waved like a Land in Sight flag for the lost and tormented men in that sea of stone that was called Ketterdam.

To less experienced - and novice - eyes, those places were just grotesque pieces that were part of a strange scenario. Just a bad city, without many mysteries or secrets. But Kaz Brekker, whose mother's name was Ketterdam, knew that these establishments were more profane than they first appear. Its sins were part of a long list of money laundering, human and arms trafficking, drug exports, a meeting point for commissioned murders and, deep in the corrupt heart of that city, the headquarters of the black market. He knew that Ketterdam was not just a land of trickery, poison, desecration and danger. It was the place where anyone could have absolutely everything for the right price.

And that's how he found you.

Kaz didn't like to remember that day. But it was engraved on his skin like a tattoo, like a hot iron. A damned, cursed reminder that despite his Herculean efforts to be the monster everyone whispered about, Kaz was still a man of flesh and warm blood. With a heart that writhed.

Something about that day in the past wasn't right. It was like a mysterious whisper in the breeze, an omen in the unknown eyes of the wanderers, a mistake in a painting that made his nerves itch. And Kaz Brekker always hated mysteries that he didn't know how to solve.

His cane banging against the thick, crooked stone floor in that even darker part of Ketterdam, the hem of his black coat swinging from side to side in the cold wind. He had 2,000 kruger in his pocket - the Crow Club's only money to pay employees, bribes, drinks and bills. He used and abused Ketterdam to offer everything at the right price, and now he was going to pay his debts to men who provided information, to locals who spiked the beer with water and sold it for a cheaper price, and to women who seduced targets and facilitated robberies. It was the only money he had.

He didn't have to look to the left, there was nothing for him there. He didn't have to wonder why people seemed to crowd closer to the curve of the last street. But, in a way that Brekker could never explain even in confidential whispers to his own soul, he turned that corner.

With his cane tapping on the ground, money in his pocket and responsibilities to fulfill, he approached, against all odds. Step by step, the air grew thicker, the invisible ropes tightened unjustifiably on the pulse of his neck, the ghostly sensation of the icy water approaching like the waves of the dark sea.

Those sensations were getting more confusing with each pump of blood. The physical consequences of his soul being shipwrecked at sea never came lightly, and this was a warning. A warning that Kaz Brekker should have turned around and walked away. While he still could.

The men around were euphoric. The women looked sadistic. And the racket of voices was too loud for him to be able to focus on a single line of conversation. The hands of men and women were raised and clutched money notes tightly, waving in the wind as if it were a flag, their sadistic, depravity-hungry eyes staring forward like predators in hunting season.

Perhaps in a parallel reality, Kaz would have followed every sign Ketterdam gave him to turn his back and leave. There's nothing for you here, Dirty Hands. Ketterdam needed demons and monsters to stay stand, it fed on trauma and anger to perpetuate the ‘everything for the right price’ market. People's chaos and hell were what maintained the local economy. Any possibility of redemption, peace and, worst of all, love, were severely condemned.

Go away, Bastard of the Barrel. Maybe Kaz would have exerted the steely control over his veins more tightly, maybe he would have listened to the city's singing and paid more attention to the sea that swelled its tide, and then there would have been a life in which he wouldn't have widened his eyes at the scene.. Go away.

The sea roared, the waves broke, the putrefying hands of the bodies drowned in the depths of the ocean grabbed his ankles with more ferocity, preventing, restricting, screaming that his place would forever be there with them in the dirt of the sea. But it was already too late. He looked at the reason for all the commotion. The sun fell on that girl's hair and it was as if the rays had also penetrated the deepest waters of that vast oceanic darkness, exorcising all the claws that retreated with infernal screams, letting go of his ankles as if they were burning.

It was like a ship's anchor being pulled up with extreme brutality, splashing water everywhere, pushing the dying pieces into the depths of hell, scaring birds in the air, and finally, finally, bringing his soul out into the warm air.

Kaz Brekker felt his entire body shake as if he had just died and been reincarnated, it was like an explosion in the darkest depths of his chest that made his blood warm again, his heart show that it was beating and his soul breathe.

The scene in front of him shouldn't have caused any commotion in his spirit. Ketterdam was not a good place, and it was home to even less good people. That open-air slave market was nothing new. It was repulsive, disgusting and disgusting, but not new. And it wasn't something Kaz got involved in. Everyone had problems with him, and he didn't play anyone's hero. Never.

Until now.

One of the girls was sitting on that improvised wooden stage, eyes extremely scared and that damn sun shining on her hair that shone like the heat of release that made him breathe for the first time. She was young, small as a rabbit, and her fur didn't belong on those rusty chains on her wrist. You.

That was all an lapse. A powerful lapse not only in his judgment, but in his long-tormented soul. He blinded himself for the first time since Pekka.

The deprivation of air, the burning of the claws sunk to the bottom of the cruel ocean, the ice that shook his bones and the smell of dead flesh swollen with rotten water had finally given him a respite.

A truce so portentous and so overwhelming that, for two blissful, desperate seconds, Kaz fucking Bekker felt fucking normal. He was breathing, for the love of the Saints. He felt the heat of the sun, his muscles were light, his heart was swollen and the corners of the world were as colorful as when he was 8 years old.

He felt Kaz Rietveld.

All because that girl was in his sight. As if her sight was a miracle to his torment. As if she were a curse to Ketterdam. No good feelings have a place here.

But it was already too late. That lapse made Kaz approach as if he no longer controlled his feet. It made his heart beat with blood that wasn't his. It made him take out the only money in his pocket and hold it up high as the biggest proposal. None of that insanity was coming from Brekker. But from Rietveld.

“Her.’’ he said in a voice he didn’t recognize as his own.

Yes, Kaz didn't like to remember that day. Because it was confirmation that the boy he had tried so hard to keep dead and drowned in the sea was as alive as tangil. And that beating heart was his. Fucking hell. That lapse cost a lot; all the money the Crow Club made in that month. Kaz Brekker had countless dangerous people to pay and he had no idea what would do. But what irritated and infuriated Kaz the most was that, when he looked into the eyes of that girl as fragile as a rabbit, he didn't regret it.

Not at all. Not a bit. Even when he had every reason in the world to regret it.

He didn't regret taking you out of those horrible rags you wore and buying you a dress. He didn't regret bringing you to his quarters even when still had no fucking idea what he would do to you now.

What use would such a small, fragile and beautiful girl would have? You looked like a little rabbit. He made a fucking mistake, because now this little rabbit was looking at him with those big eyes full of emotions: fear, innocence, curiosity. Brekker hated it. But his soul was smiling.

''Don't worry. I won’t touch you’’ Kaz said that day. His words dripped with venom, disgust, and self-loathing. He constantly thought that his condition was a sarcastic and cruel joke from the Saints that Inej prayed so much to; doomed to never stand a touch, to always be a broken and pathetic bastard to the point of mortal weakness. This always aroused anger, hatred, and a thirst for revenge against Pekka.

But looking into your big eyes…he felt as if something very valuable had been brutally ripped from him long before Kaz understood what he wanted.

Inej was wrong. The Saints were not merciful. They were as fucking sadistic as the demons of Ketterdam.

--------

The days passed, and Kaz still had no idea what to do with you. Or how to pay his debt to so many people or how to replenish Crow Club drinks. He hid you from the rest of the dregs because he didn't want to and didn't know how to explain the situation. What would he say? Kaz Brekker never did anything without a plan. Everyone knew that. And your presence refuted ALL the certainties and theories that Kaz always had a motive.

Until one day, what he knew would happen happened; fate than those who do not pay powerful people. If he didn't have money, then he had to pay in blood. As it always would be in Ketterdam.

--------

The moon was paler than usual that autumn, sending icy golden rays across the dark city. The breeze smelled of sea air, smoke, sand and blood.

Kaz sat down in his writing chair, gasping as the thud made his broken ribs hurt. His teeth clenched tightly and dropped the broken cane to the floor, his blood on the silver raven combined with the dried blood around his face.

“Oh My God’’ the voice that Rietveld’s soul loved so much sounded, terrified and in panic.

You.

Kaz closed his eyes tightly, cursing under his breath that you had chosen to come in at that exact moment. It had been 2 weeks since you were here, with him, but your presence still made his hate the reactions and sensations he had.

Brekker couldn't have feelings. Ketterdam didn't accept that, it didn't tolerate that. And the proof of this was the bloody state he was in. Sentimentality is a weakness. He repeated to himself. But why then did his soul not regret anything when he saw you? Damn, he'd probably do it all over again.

“Get out of here’’ his voice was hoarser and lower than usual. And, when you did the opposite and took a step forward, Kaz looked at you warningly ‘’Now’’ Brekker could handle a beating, he'd had it his whole life. He could deal with broken ribs, with a bloody face, with a broken cane, with wounded pride. But he can't deal with the feeling that, when you looked at him, what hurt and tortured him more than anything else was the fact that he was robbed of your touch. He couldn't touch. And it never sparked anything but a fire of rage and revenge. Until now.

Kaz Brekker couldn't feel you. Not even if he fell to his knees on the floor and prayed to all the Saints. Not even if he sobbed asking for just one day of mercy. Just one day. Just a memory of how your skin felt beneath his hands. It had been more than a century since Brekker had touched another skin, warm skin. His was always cold, cadaverous, wet even when it was completely dry. And that was never a reason for despair. Until now.

He wanted to touch you more than he wanted to breathe. He wanted to slide his fingers across your cheek more than he wanted to slide his hands across money notes. But the sensation would send him back to the waters of Ketterdam. Back to the sickening feeling of rotten flesh and death surrounding him, making his chest tighten and his vision blacken as that traumatic memory would drag him back into.

The Saints were a fucking sadist. “Please…’’ your voice was broken and completely tearful. Please…

That single word - that single word alone had the power to bring his gaze up to you. Your pleading voice, your eyes filled with pain, not for your own, but for his, the way you whispered as if you was about to crumble. You looked more scared than the day he took you from the slave market. Kaz fought down the tightening of his chest, his throat closing in. Please. Oh. He wanted to throw caution in the wind. Just once. Only for you. He wanted to put his gloves aside, just once. Just to hold your face. The desire to beg the Saints on one knee came back with more force. ''No" Kaz looked at you, staring into your eyes, as he saw you step closer. He watched the silk green dress flow, the fabric he bought for you, and for some reason it made him ache more. Damn dress.

He kept his eyes locked on that green silk for longer than expected. His body was completely bruised, but his thoughts were just feeling envious of that dress. That dress was on your skin. Feeling something he could never feel. Lucky dress.

Kaz heard your sobs get louder. "I beg you’’ You were about to fall apart “let me help…’’ He didn't know the extensions of his own injuries, but the look in your eyes said they were serious. Perhaps there was more blood than he expected.

Yes. his soul, Rietveld, screamed. Screaming so loud his bones shook. Yes. Touch me, make the cold go away again. Take me out of this ocean one more time. Help me. Touch me! Make the hands of the corpses leave my neck. Touch me. Saints, this is the most unbearable thing in the world. Kaz had no idea how long it had been since he had heard a person sob for him, but your voice broke something in him like nothing else. Kaz could get stabbed and beaten and shot, but this—this was the one thing he couldn't bear. "No'' Yes!

But you seemed in tune with his soul. As it has always been since he first saw you. You seemed to see beyond Brekker facade. Your footsteps reached him like desperate birds, your beautiful eyes growing wider every moment you saw the details of his injuries.

He didn't move from the chair, even when he should have, even when you fell to your knees between his feet, looking at him with so much fear and panic that he felt his heart skip a beat. Damn organ.

Yes. You looked beyond Brekker, You looked at Rietveld. And no one ever looked at Rietveld. “I promise to be quick. Just let me clean up the blood. Let me sterilize the knife cuts.’’ Your voice had so much pain that Kaz thought you were the one who suffered the beating. Which was impossible. Because Kaz Brekker would never let anyone touch you. but he can't touch you either. Yes, his fucking fate.

He wondered if you were so shaken because of guilt. Did you know that the 12 men he owed money got together to beat him? Did you know that he just hadn't paid because he used all the money to buy you? That's why you were so sentimental? Because the guilt. Out of pity. But it was impossible, Kaz never said anything about it. Maybe he was just looking for reasons to justify the magnitude of your concern with something other than feelings of the heart. “Please… I can't- I can't see you like this.” Your voice took him out of his thoughts, realizing that no matter how much he screamed inside, his expression remained as hard as a stone.

“I’m scared that something irreversible could happen.’’ you were honest, exposing your heart because you knew he wouldn’t expose his “Please, the thought of you dying makes me scared.’’ Yes, you were scared…like a cute rabbit. His body was hurting too much to know which stab wound was deeper, which were more superficial and which caused you so much panic.

Kaz swallowed around the lump in his throat, his heart beating wildly in his chest, but for a reason completely different from the wounds and bruising that plagued his body. Kaz wanted to put his guard up and push you away, but the sight of you kneeling before him, your eyes pleading for his consent as you raised your palm up to his battered and bloodied skin, that pleading tone - And that dress. The fucking dress he bought for you - was making him lose.

Kaz looked down at your face. His heart was burning. What am I doing? Your eyes, gazing up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks, you were breaking because of him, for him. And saints — he couldn't…Not when you looked that way. Not when every fiber of his being wanted you. Touch me. Make me come out of the sea. Make me breathe again Kaz closed his eyes, his breath sharp as he braced himself. A moment of hesitation before he finally speaks. "Quick."

It was another lapsus. The biggest mistake he could make. Ketterdam was again screaming in the background in the form of furious winds; that city did not allow pure emotions, redemptions and love.

You were so quick to get up and run to the bathroom, returning with a damp towel and a desperate but relieved look. Your knees dropped to the floor once again between his feet, and your breathing was faster than it had ever been before.

You were going to touch him

It was a mistake. An absurd error. A sin and a profanation of the worst kind.

The tide of the icy ocean within him changed course, beginning to churn its waters and threatening to drown Kaz Brekker once again. The sensation was as if his skin was swelling from the cold waves, like a corpse that had been discarded at sea for centuries. And that wouldn't be far from the truth. Kaz Rietveld was shipwrecked in that ocean along with Jordie. Along with all the other unfortunate people in that damned city.

So why did he also feel Rietveld now more than ever? when you were about to touch him.

Kaz's soul stirred, perhaps in desperation, perhaps begging for release. Maybe for both things. The emotions were so strong that he felt like vomiting the salty sea water stuck in his lungs. Then he focused on one point: the smooth skin of your neck.

You were so nervous and desperate that he could see your vein pulsing, a few errant droplets of sweat running from behind your ear to your slender neck, making their tempting way, mocking Kaz for not being able to follow the same path with his fingers.

Would he be able to fool his demons if he made that journey with his mouth? Could it be that his tongue also carried his traumas?

The wet towel went over one of his cuts, and Kaz swore so loudly that it scared you. His fingers locked for a second in the chair, but your fear of him changing his mind was greater than your fear of his reactions. You pressed the towel again, and again, and moved from one wound to the next. Your movements were in automatic mode to want to take advantage of his permission as much as possible, to help as much as possible in a time limit that you didn't know.

The invisible clock chimed like a premonition.

With one hand, you used your trembling fingers to move a piece of his cut shirt to the side. And your and his skins brushed

Holy Mother of Saints. Kaz grunted, letting his head fall back and pressing his fingers into the wood of the chair's arms even more. He closed his eyes tightly. The avalanche of emotions raised a tisunami in his sea and crashed over him with such brutality that Kaz felt he might die again. And revive.

Your fingers brushed against his skin once again, and this time his chest exploded on a different note; as if the heat of the sun was fighting to rescue him from the bottom of the sea. Making its way through the petrifying waters like a ray of heat. Like a chance. A hope. Or as an illusion.

Kaz Brekker never cried. He came out of that ocean swearing revenge, like a ghost, a monster, the murderer of Rietveld. Vowing to be a knight of the apocalypse. But he was none of those things. Kaz was a man of flesh and blood. With a heart that bled every day, with a soul neglected and so massacred that it bordered on unrecognizability: but not total annihilation.

Kaz Brekker never cried. But Kaz Rietveld did.

Being touched, after so many years without even human contact, made Brekker want to vomit, scream, cut his hands off, drown himself with Jordie, blow Pekker's brains out. But it made Rietveld want to cry, to cry out to the saints for salvation, to beg that he could have just one good thing in life. Please. his soul tore in prayers. Please…let me have this moment…for the love of God, have mercy on me just now. Somehow, he didn't vomit, and his skin on his became more like being caressed by the sun. He squeezed his eyes closed even more and imagined himself on the roof of the Crow Club, beneath the midday sun of the height of summer.

You were the sun. Just it.

Your hands pressed bandages into his deep cuts.

You were the sun. Just it.

Your breathing was heavy and your fingers pushed the rest of his bloody shirt away.

You were the sun. Just it.

Kaz repeated that like a mantra. A prayer. A choir. An exorcism. But his midday sun at the height of summer was beginning to be clouded, the sea on the horizon was beginning to swell, and Jordie's voice was beginning to rise from the dead in the air. The second he couldn't take it anymore, you pulled his hands away. Brekker breathed a sigh of relief. Rietveld screamed in despair.

‘’You’re going to be fine’’ your voice was as shaky as his emotions.

Kaz couldn't open his eyes yet. Not now. Not at this moment and… the absence of touch gave way to the feeling of extremely warm lips touching one of his bandages for a second.

This removed him from his disabilities. Stunned and perplexed, Kaz opened his eyes immediately and tilted his head towards you the same second his your moved away.

If your touches had been the sun, that micro kiss had been the entire fire.

“My mother one day said that kissing the wound makes it heal faster.” Maybe you were holding on tooth and nail to all the things that guaranteed you that Kaz Brekker would survive that moment.

Maybe a kiss heals wounds faster... indeed. Kaz Brekker thought before a curve of a smile painted his lips.

323 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 8 months ago

Note

I thought i sent it but i don't think i did though... if i did then oops sorry.

Can i request more TWIST characters who carry reader on their shoulders?

I believe you've done a fair bit of them so I'm trying to remember which ones haven't been asked about.... I think Lilia, Kalim, Jamil, Malleus, Sebek and Riddle? Those are the ones off the top of my head tbh but DON'T feel pressured to do em all. I'm fine with whatever you want to write. I'm just listing stuff for ideas. You don't have to use any of these concepts if they don't resonate.

Sitting on Their Shoulders (4) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Lilia Vanrouge

“Looking at it there’s no way we’re going to get that flag down without a stool or something.”

“Hey why not just get on my shoulders!

“What?”

“Yeah just hop up on my shoulders and grab it! You don’t want to lose the game do you?”

“...Are you sure this is the way we should be doing this? Maybe you should go on mine.”

“Pft are you underestimating me, my little bat? C’mon I can handle you I promise.”

Despite your concern Lilia practically forces you to sit

Ducking under your legs and standing up

You’ll be too busy regaining your balance to heed the moan he lets out

Too focused on the flag up high to see his eyes roll to the back of his head as you release your grip on his hair

He might toss you up claiming some lie he needs readjust his grip while squeezing your thighs together

Practically smothering him

“I got it! Okay Lilia I’m ready to come down now! Lilia. Lilia?”

“I’ve decided we should stay this way for the rest of the game!”

“What?!”

“Yup so hold on tight sweet cheeks! I need to run off all the extra energy you’ve given me!”

He really does need to run off all his excitement

Otherwise he doesn’t know he wouldn’t revert to his more violent ways should anyone break the precious skin-to-skin contact you were having

“(Y/n), I think I just found my favorite place to be!”

Riddle Rosehearts

“How about I put you on my shoulders Riddle? That way you should be able to reach the sugar and we’ll have delicious tarts in no time!”

“...I’ll lift you up.”

“But you’re a lot short—”

“I’ll do it!”

He of course had not thought of himself in such a position lies+

But having his whole face swallowed in between your thighs as he balanced your weight awakens something in him

If there is any aching he has under your weight is dissipated by the overwhelming feeling of you

You, being all around him

Him smelling you with no end in sight

He’s used to imagining and guiltily dreaming about things such as this

It finally puts his intense dictatorship guarding of your friendships

No one should ever be given this

No one but him

“Uh Riddle can we go to the right a little?”

“...”

“Riddle?..Am I too heavy?”

“NO! I apologize, I was distracted by the...heat….within this room. I’ll go to the left now.”

“Right. We need to go right!”

“Y-yes!”

762 notes · View notes

seobinghard · 21 days ago

Text

how to fix a broken heart in one day;

pairing: best friend!mingi x fem!reader ✫ wc: 1.5k ✫ genres: fluff, romcom, feel-good, non-idol!au, best friend!au ✫ warnings: none ✫ note: mingi's rich (duh). p1h's keeho mentioned ✫ synopsis: your failed situationship has left your heart shattered into pieces but lucky for you, mingi's good at fixing things.

when you told mingi you ended things with keeho last week, he hears angels sing; a celestial choir celebrating the demise of your situationship. is it evil of him, he thinks, to not feel sympathy for your situation? is it morally wrong that he even feels relief at the news of your failed romantic ventures? for it only means one thing; you're single again. and your broken heart? he'll be the one to fix it.

“mingi, you’re not listening to me. i just told you we broke up,” you bite back a sob, grabbing another tissue from the half-empty box on the coffee table.

‘how to lose a guy in ten days’ plays faintly on the your living room tv, volume on low.

“oh, come here, you big crybaby” mingi coos, opening his arms for you. you're finally mine.

sniffling, you crawl into your best friend’s arms and sink into his embrace, basking in the warmth of his body and the familiar scent of his laundry softener mixed with his cologne; fresh rain and green tea; clean and woody. mingi wraps his arms around you like you’re his most prized possession, his hold gentle and firm. there’s a heartbeat against you, a steady rhythm only you can hear through the wool of his grey sweater. for a while, the morning feels less cold and the world far away.

mingi sighs, placing his chin on your head. “you know, for a situationship that only lasted two weeks, do you think you're over-reacting?”

you pull away. “are you calling me dramatic?”

“i thought you said he's a walking red flag?"

“but you see, that's the thing about me. i'm kinda blind, mings,” you sniffle, burying your face in mingi’s chest, “and he just has go and break my heart like that.”

mingi feels his chest tighten at your muffled sobs. does he think you’re overreacting? maybe. but above all else, he hates to see you like this; blue and hopeless. you’re his sparkle bubble and some keeho guy came and popped it. what’s so special about this mf anyway, mingi thinks. sure, he’s very good-looking and successful, but can keeho make you laugh like he can? can keeho list the big three signs in your birth chart? does keeho know your gp's name off the top of his head? as if.

no one knows you better than him. and if no one loves you, mingi's dead.

“hey," mingi mutters, “you wanna go shopping?”

your eyes light up like the lights on christmas day. “now?”

“get dressed, we’ll leave in thirty."

if you were crying over a man an hour ago, that wasn't you.

mingi watches you with a smile as you bounce through sephora with stars in your eyes. he trails closely by your side, a mini basket in his right hand, his left—a canvas for your shade swipes. dior, rare beauty, two-faced; he's got it all on his skin.

"oh my god, they restocked my favourite shade, mingi!" you bounce in joy, holding up the mac lip liner.

"anything you want," mingi smirks coolly.

"for real?"

"did i stutter?"

say less.

cha-ching! two-hundred and ten dollars at sephora. a hundred and ten dollars at aesop. thirteen dollars at crumbl cookie. seventeen-hundred fifty at acne studios. seventy-nine dollars, eighteen cents at barney's. twenty dollars at heytea. fifteen-hundred and ninety dollars at miu miu.

you thought you might've murdered mingi's credit card at this point but he only gives your hair a cute lil ruffle and says, "let's go have a look at the bracelets in tiffany."

you may be clueless but one thing you know for sure is; you don't just buy tiffany for anyone.

"y/n, come here," mingi calls.

there's a foreign tenderness in his voice when he says your name and it makes your heart flutter in anticipation. you've never felt like this about your best friend before.

as you make your way to mingi, you can't help but notice his height, towering over everyone else in the store, broad shoulders visible beneath the fitted black shirt he's wearing. his jet black hair is effortlessly swept back, rimless glasses—the ones he wears while gaming—perched his nose. he balances all your shopping bags in one hand, the other beckoning you to come over. you spot the chrome hearts ring you gifted him for his twenty-third birthday on his middle finger, and your heart skips a beat. rose-pink dusts your cheeks like the first cherry blossom of spring. has mingi always looked this good?

you're starting to wonder, maybe your heart isn't broken to begin with. maybe it's been crying out for attention from the wrong person, when, all along it should've been calling out to...mingi.

oh my god.

the world blurs, and you feel dizzy. mingi's speaking to you but his words only drift around you like smoke, your mind a storm of thoughts. it's only when his hand brushes against your waist that you're hauled back to reality.

"y/n, you alright?" mingi asks, concerned.

his hand is still on your waist. you're about to combust.

"miss, would you like to try it on?"

the sales assistant brings out a bracelet on a turquoise tray. it's a return to tiffany heart bracelet; the one you've always wanted since you were little.

you gasp in awe, "it's so pretty."

you're prettier, mingi thinks. especially when you're your truest self.

"you like it?" he asks.

you nod, smiling, "i do."

your smile. fuck. he wouldn't trade anything in the world for the ability to make you smile like that. money isn't an issue. and if it ever becomes an issue, he's got two kidneys for a reason.

when night falls and it's just the two of you in his car, you finally muster up the courage to ask, "mingi, what are we doing?"

your best friend chuckles, "what do you mean?"

"i know we're best friends but why are you doing all this for me?"

mingi almost chokes on his spit but manages to play it cool, "'cause you're my homeboy, duh. what kinda stupid question is that?"

"mingi, you don't just buy someone a tiffany bracelet," you comment calmly.

you notice the faintest tension in his jaw. mingi is quiet, his focus fixed on the road ahead, the familiar route back to your apartment just five minutes away. silence hangs in the air, thick with unspoken thoughts. you're glad you live downtown because if you had stayed in an enclosed space any longer with mingi, you don't know what you would've done.

mingi stops outside your apartment building and shifts the car into park.

you take this as a sign to leave, unbuckling your seatbelt. "i'll see you—"

"y/n, wait."

mingi swiftly takes off his glasses and pulls you in for a kiss. you blink, swept away by the sudden contact of his lips against yours—soft and sweet like a midsummer's dream. you can hear your heart pounding in your ears as he slowly pulls away, his chest heaving, breath mingling with yours. warmth floods through you in a million butterflies, pooling in your stomach as you regain your breath. the surprise in your eyes mirrors his as you both process what just happened.

"i didn't want it to be like this," mingi finally breaks the silence. his voice is husky, face flushed, eyes wide and glossy like brown boba pearls. "fuck."

your heart is about to leap out of your chest.

mingi takes your hand in his. "y/n, i know it's selfish of me to tell you this now and you can say 'no' anytime if you feel uncomfortable—"

"mingi, please," you whimper. you think you know what he's going to say and it's driving you insane.

"i love you," mingi confesses, his words weighted with confidence and truth. his gaze holds yours as if searching for a four-syllable answer to his sacred declaration.

"like in a homeboy way?"

mingi's face shatters. "are you really asking me this right now? really, y/n?"

"i'm joking!" you burst into fits of giggles before placing a kiss on his cheek. "i think i really, really like you too, mingi bunny!"

though you can't see it, mingi is over the moon at your answer—he'll take 'i really, really like you' any day and pray for the best that one day, 'like' becomes 'love'. but until then, he's fully content to just be in your presence. he's waited this long, what's a few more weeks, month, or years, going to do to him?

"sooooo, can we make out?"

"mingi, get the bags."

"yes, my love."

#mingi x reader #mingi #ateez #mingi ateez #mingi fluff #mingi imagines #best friend!mingi #mingi scenarios #ateez x reader #mingi drabbles #mingi moodboard #keeho #keeho p1harmony

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onyourhyuck · 1 year ago

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DEVILISH. | L.DH

— Prologue: “Is the reason you came to my concert looking this pretty to make me fuck you in front of my fans?”

— Summary: Where the infamous rockstar!haechan takes you behind the back stage right before his concert.

— Genre: Musician and Fan with benefits trope. Red flag rockstar!haechan. Forced proximity(?) Ass spanking. Bare backshots. Exhibitionism. There’s just something about red flag Haechan. Fingering (female receiving) Multiple orgasms and overstimulation. Clit play. Degradation.

— Notes: I’ve been seeing a lot of rockstar fics on this platform so I decided to join in on the trope.

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You knew you were playing with a darker force when the man grabbed you by your wrist dragging you to the back stage. You knew he was trouble and that he was going to turn your world upside down from the moment your eyes met. Even if it felt like a dangerous game, you didn’t want to move away from it. You didn’t want to leave him and if anything you gravitate towards him more than before.

He was known as something more. Haechan is a rockstar with a reputation that could make anyone’s skin crawl. Women are on his list to do. Music was the first priority.

The lifestyle he has makes it even harder to date so Haechan often relies on one night stands or something less restricting to live with. You happened to be one of the people he keeps coming back to for more. You’re beautiful without a doubt; but you’re also very enticing and alluring. You know how to get Haechan riled up in the most ‘innocent’ ways.

Innocently attending his concert with the most short dress? Haechan likes to think you’re getting more and more bold with him. He can’t just stand still and ignore what you’re wearing on your body.

It’s why you are pressed against the nearest wall with a hand keeping your shoulder steady in the position. The bottom hem of your dress pulled upwards letting everything become exposed to Haechan’s view. Your soaking panties were a proven point that you did this on purpose to get him completely crazy. It was a turning point for you to see Haechan coming back to his animalistic ways just because you wore a very short beautiful dress that flatters your body so much. It’s driving him crazy when each stroke with his hand creates a squelching wet sound, but the burning sensation keeping his fingers buried in between your two warm walls could make anyone come undone in their boxers instantly.

He sized up against you making sure you’re not going to try and run away from your own highs. You signed up for this and deep down you wanted this, but you are starting to wonder that you tried to bite more than you could chew.

The strokes were anything but gentle, his fingers brushed up and down your wet slit. You aren’t sure how many times you came but you came one too many in your head.

“Fuck. Look at yourself right now.” He cruelly smirks forcing you to look at him with clear vision.

You glanced up at the rockstar who makes your mind go blank, you saw how truly fucked you looked already and he barely got to the real deal.

Cheeks are cherry red, your eyes are widen looking at your own lewd expressions previously. You look so pretty despite your shocked eyes.

He leans closer taking small steps with his hands brushing up to your waist. Haechan was so excited to get you even more of a mess before the concert begins.

In reality he doesn’t have much time left. Therefore he doesn’t waste time with you. The problem between his legs can’t wait anymore, even slightest movements your body does when it flinches by the slightest kisses planting on your side of the neck made him smile.

You’re sensitive beyond belief. Every part of your body was dripping wet.

Watching the dress on you he can’t get over how short it was. He swore the first time he saw you wearing it earlier he saw your cheeks hanging out and that was enough to make Haechan have hands on you.

“Cum on my fingers right now.” He vows into your ears while you’re sucking in your stomach with each loud pant.

You’re unable to breathe right away, the harsh slapping of his palm hitting your stretched out with his two middle fingers deeply buried in your walls is making you tremble. You couldn’t speak out, you couldn’t even moan, you felt your breathing becoming heavy and rough.

It was multiple signs showing you’re reaching your very end limit. The overstimulation was finally getting to you and it was a heavenly sight for Haechan.

“Fuck, oh god, Haechan slow down—”

“Come on you can take it, don’t tell me to slow down now.” He grins. You never once complained before so why complain now?

The rockstar with the most devilish expression watching you coming undone on his hand with your remaining cum spilling out on his fingers pulling out of your abused cunt. He brings it forward licking the slit clean while letting out low moans at the taste of you on his tongue.

The sight of your panting chest grows on Haechan, he can never get enough of you becoming a whole mess for him and only him. The thing is he loves it when you get like this. Haechan loves seeing you underneath him where he can see you looking so vulnerable.

Bringing you closer he rolls more of the dress up and suddenly brings his hands down your lower back, you didn’t have time to recover from such a high orgasm because he kissed you intensely.

Taking your breath away once again. He slims down his tongue so he could suck on your bottom lip and then bites down gently pulling it.

You whine closing your eyes tightly and then his hands go more low down to grope your ass tightly. He gives your right ass cheek a little spank.

“Turn around for me darling and lean against that wall with your arms stretched out.”

Shit, you thought.

“Now? Right now?”

Haechan wants to take you right now? He has less than fifteen minutes even and you’re beginning to wonder if it was worth it to tease him with this new dress.

You definitely tried to bite more than you could chew with him right now.

You felt him leaning in to your face with a look in his eyes that told you to do it otherwise he will put you into that position that’s going to be consequences for you. You were spun around immediately with your elbows stretching out to that nearby wall in front of you. You’re unable to focus on anything else but the panties you had on where now stripped down to your ankles. Haechan spanked your ass one more time before groping it.

He began to wonder,,

“Is the reason you came to my concert looking this pretty to make me fuck you in front of my fans?”

The question caught you off guard. Sound of your heart pumping so much just by looking for an answer in your head, you tried to deny it. But that would be a lie if you didn’t like the idea of being known as Haechan’s lover or hookup. You would love it if his fans knew who you were.

The things you guys get up to behind the scenes.

Maybe you’re growing greedy but you don’t like the idea of the playboy rockstar being with someone else. Haechan hardly goes back to someone for more rounds but with you he found himself growing attached and fond.

You’re fun to be around with, and you let him use you without a complaint.

You bite your lip. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Hearing you confirming his exact thoughts he smirks dropping the white ripped jeans off with the belt unbuckled. The solid hard shape pressed up on your beautiful shaped ass makes his eyes widen. Purposely he pressed the tip leaking with precum up and down motion on your back down to the weak entrance itching to take all of him.

“You’re such a whore, but you already know that.” Haechan coos down leaning his stomach now by your back while he placed the flat palm on your stomach under.

Your bodies are pressed together, with a long liner of his erected cock creeping in your folds now. Burning sensation growing minute by minute in your stomach you found your knuckles curling up in response as Haechan thrusts forward.

You let him use you in so many ways it makes Haechan addicted to you.

And you’re getting addicted to his devilish ways.

Pursing warmth of your arousal leaking out with each time the cock’s tip nuzzles at your upcoming pink womb makes this so much more inflicting to your thoughts that became cloudy. Your mouth drops by the increase of Haechan’s hips pivoting towards your body non-stop. It’s like he won’t be stopping until he has your knees going weak on the ground. He won’t stop until you’re dizzy or passed out — at least that is what it feels like right now.

He doesn’t care about anything else right now but doing exactly this.

When the movements became hardy he caressed down your back with his hands touching your breasts exposed out that jiggle between your rocking body with the cock deeply buried in your wet cunt. You probe your incoherent noises out more when Haechan teased the nipples forth his fingertips. Brushing his lips over your neck behind he sucks on your beautiful clean smelling skin. The perfume you used was visible on the tongue once he tasted you. He drags down the waist even more having your walls clench to take shape of his deeply latching cock head hitting at the far back of your womb wanting to reach your deeper depths.

Sucking on your skin leaves you with all sorts of marks that he found so wrongly beautiful on you it felt forbidden at the same time it feels morally correct. Haechan knew this could get a scandal going on but did he care at that moment? No.

Between your legs widening even more the jelly feeling on your knees began to grow visible and your thighs shake as you feel your stomach start to violently twitch while the growing muscles on your body contract. The hands on the wall supporting you start to break and crumble as did your own expression. You couldn’t hold back your tears as this pose you’re in made you so much sensitive.

Haechan didn’t want to stop just yet. Bringing down that hand on your stomach he sweeps it even further away to rub your clit in circle movements.

Your eyes widen as Haechan teased the red swollen clit causing more of your walls to clench to his shape causing him to deeply grunt with each fast thrusting, you feel beyond amazing it made each air coming out like pants.

“Shitshit keep clenching like that baby, you might make me cum inside you.” He warned you with his droopy glares due to how much pleasure he is consuming from you.

The hand rubs in fast motions on your pussy now slapping it a few times when you’re starting to whine out. Becoming full and stuffed of his cock was one thing but becoming overstimulated with both different ways at once?

It was something you weren’t ready for.

“Fuck, please have mercy on me I won’t last long if you keep doing this to me—”

“Good.” He cuts you off with a deep breathy chuckle. “Cum on my cock. Make me feel you.” He trails down gripping your hip with the free hand rocking you down making sure your ass was right pressed on the abdomen while his cock searched ways going even more deep in you.

Hitting a different spot you grew so worn out you’re seeing blackouts randomly and his hand abusing your clit didn’t make it any better.

You knew that you were getting close to orgasm when your vision was lacking.

“H-Haechan I’m…”

Holding back your cries as tears pour down your cheeks so did your juices down your thighs and Haechan’s throbbing manhood in your womb releasing his seed into your body. It is a warm filling of becoming stuffed like a toy. You feel your voice crack and then becoming silent.

There was lingering silence before Haechan remained quiet when he was gaining back the strength as him filling you up was so overwhelming it made all senses go blank.

“Atta’ good girl.” He smirks while leaving you turn around with your wobbly legs.

Then next few minutes you finally pull your panties back on and the dress while you’re looking like a complete wrecking mess. Nonetheless you notice Haechan pulling up his white jeans and buckling the belt back on.

You’re wiping your tears that fell down your cheek as you’re in disbelief that you actually cried. However what caught you by surprise the most was something else.

His signature smile he has on while watching you wipe your face haunts you.

The man standing before you was everything you could ever think about and breath in. He was something you grew to obsess with. And now you’re in a deeper hole than before.

Haechan smirks coming forward towards you and lifting your head by the chin with his finger. “Next time I’ll have you cry even more. This was just an appetiser darling.”

You’re unsure what you got yourself into but those Devilish eyes are telling you it will be the end of you.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3

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candycandy00 · 9 months ago

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The Doll House - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 1

When your younger sister is tricked into selling herself to the Doll House, you rush there to help her, only to find her being led away by her trainer, Choso. Moved by your desire to save your sister, he convinces the owner to let you take her place.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Choso’s. I’m keeping the tag list from previous parts. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. FemDom. Sub Choso. Oral sex. Foot kissing. Divider by @benkeibear!

Your phone won’t stop buzzing. Even with the sound turned off, it’s making a racket in your bag, disturbing the important meeting you’re in. With a sigh, you slip it out to look at the Lock Screen. Your younger sister has sent you several messages. Wondering what kind of trouble she’s gotten herself into this time, you tap the latest message to open all of them.

“Sis, I need your help! It’s an emergency!!!!”

“Yosaku is in trouble with his dad. He needs money right now or the old man’s gonna kill him!!”

“We’re at the Doll House. Yosaku says he’ll win big at the next race and buy out my contract.”

“Guess I’m a doll now! Why won’t you answer me?! This is important!!!”

“The owner went to find a trainer for me. God, I hope I don’t get the BDSM guy!”

“Sis, I’m scared!!! Yosaku left and I don’t think he’s coming back!”

You clench the phone in your hand so hard, you almost break it.

“Fucking Yosaku!” you shout, then notice the dozen pairs of eyes that all immediately shift to you. You’re so enraged that you forgot you’re in a meeting. You apologize and excuse yourself, quickly leaving the office building where you work and heading toward the Doll House.

Your sister has been dating the son of a small time Yakuza boss for a little over six months now, and the two bit wannabe gangster has already ruined her life.

Before meeting Yosaku, your sister was always so sweet and never got into trouble. Despite only being four years older than her, you practically raised her. She’s the only family you have, and as such, you’re fiercely protective of her.

So when she introduced you to Yosaku, six years her senior, good looking in a “bad boy” sort of way, and with a terrible personality, you knew he was bad news. The fact that they started dating almost immediately after she turned eighteen was a big red flag. It’s like he was waiting for her, like a vulture.

She started getting into trouble within two weeks of meeting him. She got caught shoplifting items he instructed her to take (and he of course fled the scene when she was spotted). He got mad and ditched her in a dangerous part of town one night. He talked her into gambling away all her money. And a whole list of other things. Each time, you had to go and rescue her. And each time, you begged her to dump him before he got her into real, serious trouble.

Now she’s at the Doll House? Unbelievable! How could he convince her to give up ten years of her life for him?! You can only hope you make it there in time to stop the sale.

When you barge in the front door, past a front desk with a startled receptionist, and into a large circular room, you find your sister. She’s being led away by a pale man with a strange hairstyle, and she looks like a deer in the headlights.

“Stop!” you scream, rushing forward and ripping your sister’s arm out of the man’s hand. “Don’t touch my sister, you pervert!”

You don’t know a whole lot about the Doll system or the Doll House, but everyone knows the basics. The men here train women to be sex toys, usually with some bizarre fetish. A friend once told you a guy here makes his dolls crawl on the ground like a dog while wearing a butt plug. Unimaginable!

The man looks at you, seeming confused. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not anyone suspicious. I’m just her trainer.”

You place yourself in front of your sister, blocking his view of her. “You think I’m gonna let you train her to do depraved… sex stuff? I won’t let you hurt her!”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” he says, looking a little hurt himself that you would suggest such a thing. “My job is to prepare her to be a doll. I’m helping her.”

He seems so honest, but you can’t let yourself be fooled. “I don’t care what your job is. You can’t have my sister! Look at her, she’s just eighteen! She’s practically a baby! She’s still a virgin! You can’t turn her into-“

“Actually, sis, I’m not a virgin,” you hear your sister say behind you, making you wince. You assumed so, but it sucks to have it confirmed. Fucking Yosaku.

You look at her over your shoulder. “That’s not important right now.” Then you turn back to the man. “Please, don’t take her. She’s the only family I have. She has her whole life ahead of her.”

The trainer’s face softens slightly, as if he feels bad for you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but she already signed the contract. There’s nothing I can do.”

“But there has to be some way out of this! Her lowlife boyfriend coerced her!”

“What’s going on in here?” a voice asks.

All of you look over to see a silver haired woman standing just inside the room. She’s holding a silk fan in one hand, the breathless receptionist standing beside her.

“Who are you?” you ask her.

She flips a long braid over her shoulder. “I’m the owner of this establishment. And if you’re here to stop a sale, you’re too late. Unless you want to pay some rather punishing fees for breaking the contract.”

You narrow your eyes. “Just how much are these fees?”

The owner snaps her fingers, and the receptionist scurries to grab a pen and paper. The owner writes something on it and the receptionist presents it to you. She wasn’t kidding when she said they were punishing! You’d never be able to pay this back! Even with your pretty good job. Your sister’s credit would be ruined forever. And you’d have to work yourself to the bone and you’d probably still lose everything.

Your mind races. Think! Think! There has to be a way out of this! An idea pops into your mind. A terrible one, but it’s the only one you have at the moment.

“What if I take her place?” you ask.

Your sister steps out from behind you to look you in the face. “Sis, no, this is my-“

“Just be quiet,” you hiss, using the sort of tone you took while caring for her as a child. The “angry mother” tone, she called it. She falls silent.

The owner looks you up and down. “I don’t know… We’ve never done something like that before.”

You get down on your knees, looking up at the owner with a pleading expression. “Please! My sister is young and naive. She can’t handle life as a doll. But I can! As the older sister, it’s my responsibility to protect her!”

Beside the owner, the trainer’s eyes widen. Then, suddenly, he moves over and gets down to his knees right next to you, bowing his head low.

“I’m asking as well,” he says to the owner, shocking you. “Out of respect for her wanting to protect her sister, could you let them trade places? The older sister would be more suited to my training anyway.”

The owner looks slightly flustered to be met with such old fashioned, formal pleas. But she sighs and says, “Alright, I’ll go get the paperwork fixed up.”

As she walks away, the trainer stands up, then offers you his hand. Still somewhat in shock, you take it and let him help you up.

“Thanks,” you tell him. “But why did you help me?”

He gives you a subtle smile. “I understand wanting to protect a younger sibling. I have a little brother I would do anything for.”

Wow, he’s actually pretty cute… for a sex crazed pervert. It just now occurs to you that he’s going to be your trainer now. This cute guy is going to be doing all sorts of depraved things to you!

Your sister hugs you suddenly, her face wet with tears. “You didn’t have to do that! This was my problem!”

You pull away from her and stroke her hair. “Yes, I did have to do this. Just promise me one thing: that you’ll stay away from Yosaku. He’s dangerous! The next time he gets you into trouble, I won’t be there to help. Don’t make what I’m doing be for nothing.”

Your sister nods. “I promise! I’m all done with him!”

After reading over and signing all the paperwork, you and your sister say your goodbyes. Then you turn to your trainer and say. “Well, I’m all yours.”

He reaches out and gently takes your hand, then leads you down a hallway. He actually seems… sweet? You can’t imagine him doing perverted things to you. But he is a trainer here. Sooner or later, this man is going to have sex with you. You’re not some blushing virgin, but the thought still makes you a little embarrassed.

Once inside his room, he shuts the door behind the two of you. His room looks surprisingly neat, clean, and comfortable. No crazy props or weird toys hanging on the walls. Thank goodness.

“Feel free to sit down,” he says, gesturing toward a pair of chairs on either side of a small table.

You walk over and take a seat, watching him a bit warily. You still don’t know what kind of fetish he specializes in.

“I’ll tell you about my training,” he says, as if he can read your mind. You sit up straight in the chair to listen as he goes on. “I train women to be Doms. Dominant. I will call you Mistress. My name is Choso but you can call me whatever you like. I will do anything you tell me to. For the next six weeks, I belong to you. Oh, before you ask, I can’t get you out of the contract. That’s up to the owner, not me.”

Wait. What? He’s training you to be a Dom? You’ve heard the term before, but it conjures up an image of a woman in a black leather corset, cracking a whip. You’re supposed to do that stuff with him?

“So, you’ll do anything I ask?”

He nods. “As long as it doesn’t violate any of the house rules, and is within my power.”

That doesn’t sound so bad. But you’re not naive. You know this is supposed to lead to things of a sexual nature. This is the Doll House after all. But at least you’ll probably get to do things at your own pace. You feel yourself relaxing slightly.

“Can you get me a cup of coffee?” you ask, curious to see how he responds.

“Of course, Mistress. How would you like it?”

“Hot. Heavy on the cream, no sugar.”

He gives you a small bow of his head. “Right away, Mistress.”

You watch him leave the room, then exhale deeply. Why does any doll trained by him ever do any of the sex stuff? Why not just make him rub your feet and bring you snacks for six weeks? You suppose that would defeat the purpose of being trained. What was it he called it? Preparing you to be a doll? Whoever your owner ends up being, he’s definitely going to expect some sex stuff.

But do you have to initiate it? Command Choso to sleep with you? You can’t imagine doing that.

He walks back in with a steaming cup and reaches it to you as if he’s a butler. You glance up at him, and you think he’d look really good in a butler uniform.

You noticed it before, but he’s really cute. He’s like a quiet goth guy without the piercings. His hair is styled into two short ponytails, one on either side of his head. It’s not a style you’ve seen before, but it looks good on him. His clothes are a bit baggy, making you curious about what’s under them.

The coffee is delicious, and Choso watches you drink it silently. After you sit the cup down, he asks, “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

You think for a moment. “You’ll do anything? Even if it’s something embarrassing or demeaning?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

You frown. “I don’t know. It seems wrong to force you to do things.”

A gentle smile appears on his face. “If you’re concerned about consent, please don’t worry. I work here voluntarily because I like doing stuff like this. I’m happy to do anything you want. No matter what it is.”

There’s an eagerness in his voice that makes your heart beat fast. You take a deep breath and say, “Kiss my foot!”

You really just want to test whether he’ll actually do anything you say or not, and this seems like a relatively tame command. Actually it’s not sexual at all.

Or so you think, until Choso gracefully drops to his knees in front of you and, oh so gently, removes your high heeled shoe from your right foot. Then his hands move to your thigh, sliding just under your skirt. You start to yell at him, but then you realize he’s pulling your stocking down, slowly sliding it down your leg and off your foot.

His eyes lock onto yours as he carefully lifts your foot up in his hand, holding it up close to his face. He licks his lips, then presses them softly to the top of your foot as his hand caresses your ankle.

Oh wow. Okay, you kind of get how this all turns sexual. Choso on his knees in front of you, so eager to please, is doing things to you.

He stands back up, the tiniest hint of a grin on his pale face. He knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t be a very good trainer if he didn’t. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do, Mistress?”

Your heart is racing. You feel your face heating up. Fuck, did he just seduce you with a single kiss to your foot? You cough awkwardly and look away from his pretty face.

“I’m not sure what else to make you do,” you say, then quickly add, “What would you do if I told you to strip?”

He instantly begins pulling his loose fitting shirt over his head.

“Wait! I wasn’t serious! I was just messing around!” you yell, but his shirt is already off, dangling from his hand. Your eyes drink in his well defined torso, surprised by how toned he is. A cute face and a hot body? Plus he’s sweet and gentle? Is this guy the total package or what?

You shake your head. You can’t let yourself fall for him. He’s your trainer. He’s done this same stuff, and much more, with lots of other women. And besides, in six weeks you’ll belong to someone else. You just hope whoever that is has half of Choso’s charm.

“I’m sorry, Mistress, I thought you wanted me to undress,” he says, pulling his shirt back on. Why does he sound a little disappointed?

Now you really want to see what he’s packing beneath those baggy pants, but you can’t bring yourself to command him to show you. Not so soon after meeting him anyway.

“It’s my fault,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He smiles at you. It’s a very warm expression. “Please don’t worry about it, Mistress. I’m here to please you.”

*************************

Choso watches his new doll as she stands up and looks around the room. This will be her room for the next six weeks, so it’s good for her to familiarize herself with it.

“Can I go get some of my things from home?” she asks.

“Yes. You can leave the house so long as you come back by nightfall. That’s one of the house rules. If you go out at night, I have to go with you.”

She looks at her watch. “I guess I’ll just go tomorrow,” she says. “So what do we do for dinner?”

“There’s a dining hall where we all usually eat our meals,” he tells her, then goes on to explain what times meals are served and tells her about the small shared kitchen. He goes over some more house rules and also warns her that the other trainers all have their own styles, so she shouldn’t be surprised to see naked dolls or dolls in strange outfits.

She seems to be taking it all in fairly well.

For dinner, she opts to stay in his room while he fetches plates, saying she isn’t quite ready to meet everyone else. She also tells him to eat at the small table in his room with her. Some dolls, perhaps angry about being dolls in the first place, order him to sit on the floor and eat. It doesn’t bother Choso, but he does think his new doll seems nice so far.

“So you have a little brother?” she asks over dinner.

He looks up from his plate, somewhat surprised. Some dolls ask a few basic questions at first, just to get to know him a little, but this one managed to get straight to his favorite topic. He smiles and says, “Yes. His name is Yuji.”

Her face looks kind, pretty, as she asks, “How old is he?”

“Nine,” he answers. “He’s a very energetic child, but he’s very sweet.”

She’s smiling, perhaps thinking of her sister. “He sounds adorable. Do you get to spend much time with him?”

Choso lowers his eyes to his food. “Not as much as I like. We only share one parent, and both of his have died. He lives with his grandfather now. I visit him as much as I can, and he visits me here occasionally. Oh, don’t worry, he doesn’t understand what I do here.”

They talk for a while longer, Choso eventually getting his phone and showing her pictures of Yuji. And he almost forgets, for a few moments, that she’s a doll and he’s her trainer. For those few moments, they’re just two older siblings smiling and talking.

When night falls, Choso goes to take a shower. When he steps out, dressed in cozy sweats with his wet hair grazing his shoulders, his doll looks at him strangely.

“Is something wrong?” he asks her, drying his hair with a towel.

She blinks then averts her eyes. “No, nothing’s wrong,” she says, looking a little embarrassed before adding, “You look nice with your hair down.”

His doll decides to sleep in her clothes tonight, refusing his offer to wear something of his. And when it’s time to go to bed, he asks, “Where would you like me to sleep, Mistress?”

She wears a puzzled expression. “Uh, the bed?”

“Most dolls tell me not to sleep in the bed with them on the first night. I suppose they’re nervous, me being a stranger to them.”

She shrugs. “It’s your bed. It wouldn’t be right to force you out of it. Just don’t touch me and it’ll be fine.”

He stares at her. “You trust me already?”

She smiles as she climbs into his bed, staying on one side. “I think anyone who loves his little brother as much as you love Yuji can’t be a bad person.”

Choso feels his heart skip a beat, but he keeps his face neutral as he gets into bed, keeping a respectful distance from his doll.

**********************

Two days later, you find yourself sitting in a chair in Choso’s room. He’s standing nearby, waiting for you to tell him to do something. These past couple of days, you’ve had him give you foot rubs, massage your shoulders, and brush your hair. All things pointedly not sexual. But in every case, Choso has made innocent actions seem incredibly sensual.

The way his hands touch you, the way his eyes look at you with desire, they make you want to order him to fuck you right now. But you can’t do that. You’ve been trying to think of a way to make the orders you give him more sexy, but it’s difficult for you to just tell a man you barely know to start doing sexy things to you.

You thought he was supposed to teach you how to be a Dom, but when you said that, he replied with, “It’s much better to just learn by experiencing things. So please tell me what you want me to do.”

Which was no help at all. You’re starting to think Choso isn’t a very good teacher.

If he would just tell you what he wants, what he’d like for you to order him to do, this would be far less awkward!

Wait. That might work!

“Choso,” you say, and he seems to perk up a bit at the sound of his name. “If you could pick one thing for me to tell you to do, what would it be?”

He smiles mildly. “I’d love to do anything you tell me to do, Mistress.”

“No. Give me a real, honest answer. This is an order from your Mistress. What would you most want to be ordered to do right now?”

He looks at you for a moment, then his eyes seem to get darker, a very slight pink flush to his cheeks. “What I’d most like to be ordered to do,” he says, keeping eye contact with you, “is to pleasure you with my mouth. To get on my knees in front of you while you spread your legs and stand over me, to taste you, to use my tongue to make you cum, over and over, until your legs give out.”

Oh shit. Are you seriously already wet just from hearing him talk about eating you out? There’s a hunger in his eyes, and you feel heat creeping across your face, your breaths quickening. Just imagining his pretty face buried between your thighs is making you horny as hell.

“Okay then,” you say, standing up and trying to keep your voice steady, trying to sound confident and in charge even though you feel like you’re about to melt into a puddle of goo, “do it. Pleasure me… with your mouth.”

The way his cute, pale face lights up! He drops to his knees on the spot, and slowly crawls over to you. When he reaches you, he puts his hands on your thighs and carefully slides your skirt down, looking you in the eyes as he does it.

“Mistress, may I please remove your panties?” he asks.

You feel like you can barely breathe as you nod and say, “Yes, you may.”

His gentle hands rub upwards, until they reach the top of your lace panties, and then he eases them down your legs, helping you to step out of them once they reach the floor. This leaves you standing in his room, naked from the waist down, while he kneels in front of you.

“Mistress, can you spread your legs?”

You feel your face burning as you move your feet further apart, giving him an eye full of your dripping pussy. He looks at it, then at your face, then licks his lips as if he’s about to dig into a tasty meal.

And boy does he dig in! He runs his tongue up your slit, collecting any juices he can, then uses his fingers to open your folds. He takes a moment to look at your most private place, then says, “You’re beautiful, Mistress,” before slowly licking your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, then his lips wrap around it, and you can almost hear him slurping at your wetness.

You look down at his face, only the top half visible, and his eyes shift up to yours. They’re half lidded, looking at you through his long eyelashes.

As he makes out with your pussy, licking and kissing it so sweetly, taking his time, your legs begin to tremble. The pleasure is simply too much. You’ve been eaten out before, but never like this, never as if your clit is the most delicious thing on earth.

“Ahh… Choso… I can’t…”

He pauses and glances up. “Are you alright, Mistress?”

“Y-yes, just… don’t stop, even if I tell you to. Not until I collapse,” you say, feeling slightly delirious. Did you really just say that?

“Of course, Mistress,” he says, then returns to devouring you.

Your hands move to his head, and you find yourself pulling the ponytails free and letting his hair loose. Then you’re gripping it, hopefully not hard enough to hurt. You hear him utter a quiet moan, and the vibration of his voice against your clit as his lips suckle it gently sends you over the edge.

You cry out, your hands tightening in his hair, your legs shaking and nearly giving way right then and there. His hands move around to your thighs and ass, holding you steady while his tongue laps up any fluids that leak out. You’re quivering, your clit extra sensitive and swollen after your orgasm, and that’s when his wet tongue glides over it again, pushing the hood even further back.

“W-wait! Oh God… oh fuck!”

Your body jerks, your legs turning into spaghetti as another orgasm hits you within minutes of the first. Choso’s grip on your body is firm, keeping you from crumbling. His lips and tongue are still working at your clit, moving at a faster pace now, making you shudder and moan.

“Choso… I can’t stand it… feels too good… I can’t…. I can’t…”

His mouth is relentless, pushing you right back to the edge. You know you must be pulling his hair too hard, but you have to grip something or you’ll fall apart. Then, you feel his teeth lightly scrape over your sensitive, overstimulated bud, and you inhale sharply, nearly choking on the air as you cum for the third time.

It feels like your body is dissolving as all strength leaves you. Choso catches you in his arms and eases you down to the carpeted floor, cradling you.

“Are you alright, Mistress?” he asks, his lips glistening with your juices.

You’re still twitching, clutching his arms as you ride out the aftershocks of the three most intense orgasms of your life. You can’t speak, so you just nod to answer him.

He holds you until you’re able to stand up with his help, then he helps you clean up before tucking you into bed.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he says, and you nod as he goes into the bathroom. You didn’t mention it, but when he was holding you on the floor, your upper half in his lap, you felt a rather impressive erection through his loose pants. You thought about doing something about it, but your mind was a little too hazy at that point. Oh well, you’re certain you’ll get plenty of chances to pleasure him as well.

You never imagined being a doll before all this, and you’re still angry that things turned out this way, but at least you have Choso as your trainer. You don’t know how things will turn out, who will end up owning you, but at least for now, the situation isn’t too bad. So you fall asleep to the sound of the water running in the shower, knowing Choso will be sleeping beside you again tonight.

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3 @gabriiiiiiii @fvsm4x @tyunhyukamyloves @rottmntrulesall

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso #choso kamo #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso x you #x reader

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7s3ven · 10 months ago

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NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt 4

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( masterlist )

IN WHICH… Y/N is chosen for a quest, one of which Luke knows she might not return from. When she returns a three months later, he vows to never let her go again. After all, the son of Hermes and the daughter of Zeus can never stay apart for long.

“I’m in the wind, you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

Warnings : gore, violence, really descriptive words of gore (it’s lowkey grossing me out), complicated relationship, doesn’t follow canon plot, just a little bit of swearing

—

TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife

—

Three months without Luke. Three terrible, lonely months without him. They were supposed to be on a break but they hadn’t spoken since capture the flag.

Luke stopped talking to Lana and Allen finally stopped annoying Y/N after she accidentally electrocuted him again, but worse. It was safe to say he spent a few weeks with the Apollo kids.

Y/N sat alone at her table, picking at her food. Percy looked as lonely as her. With no siblings to sit beside, they were left in their own company.

Y/N almost jumped when someone sat beside her. Part of her wished it was Luke and she felt disappointed when it was only Mai. “Hey.” She softly said, leaning forward. “You’ve always wanted to go on a quest, right?”

In all her ten years at camp, Y/N had never been on a quest. It’s not like she wasn’t a top candidate because she was. But nobody really wanted an unclaimed demigod on their team, even if she was more than qualified.

“I guess.” Y/N shrugged. Her occupied mind wasn’t really focused on quests right now. Mai’s beautiful brown eyes shined even brighter as she grinned, her eyes crinkling.

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone until Chiron announces it… but I’ve been chosen for quest.” She squealed, kicking her legs.

“And?” Y/N raised an eyebrow as she slowly chewed on her food. Why was Mai telling her that? They weren’t exactly close and they had barely spoken since Y/N’s night in the Aphrodite cabin.

“I want you to know that you,” She lightly poked the tip of Y/N’s nose. “Are coming with me.” Mai giggled as she stood up, rushing off before Y/N could even question it. Y/N whipped her head around, speechless. She could hardly focus on training with Luke haunting her mind. How was she supposed to help with a quest?

She slowly sighed, chewing lightly on her bottom lip. When she felt someone burning holes into her with their gaze, she lifted her head. To no one’s surprise, it was Luke. He quickly looked away, resuming his conversation with Chris as if nothing had happened.

Y/N gripped her fork. Maybe a quest would be good for her. She could get away from Camp and focus on lashing out all her anger on the poor monsters.

After breakfast, Chiron gathered up the camp’s best fighters and possible allies for Mai on her quest. Y/N wasn’t surprised to see Luke and Clarisse lined up beside her.

Y/N shifted around awkwardly, uncomfortable with the idea of standing next to Luke. The air was thick with tension and not just because everyone was eager to get chosen. Y/N’s fidgeting caught Luke’s keen eye but he didn’t say a word, simply turning his gaze to look ahead once more.

“The Oracle has confirmed what we expected.” Chiron uttered, his hands clasped behind his back. “The monsters are attempting to enter the mortal realm, which is bad news for both us and them. Their base of operation lies in New York, which is where you will venture to. Time is of the essence. I have selected the best candidates to join you on your journey.”

“Y/N.” Mai suddenly cut Chiron off.

“Usually, one waits to head at least one name.” Chiron retorted.

“I know all their names. I want Y/N. If there’s anyone who can help me succeed, it’s her. I mean, she’d probably push me down a flight of stairs if it was part of the quest. And I need someone like that.” Mai’s eyes scanned over the rest of the demigods, weighing out all her options in her head. “I also want Clarisse. If we run into a monster and we don’t weapons, I can count on her to slay it with a piece of paper.”

Luke parted his lips to say something but no words came out. For the first time in three months, he talked to Y/N. “Hey.” He jogged towards her, staring down at her with so much emotion in his eyes. “Um, I know we haven’t talked in a while but… stay safe. On your quest, I mean.”

Y/N slowly and stiffly smiled. “Thanks… Luke. I’ll try my best.” She nodded.

“Wait, Y/N.” Luke called out, reaching for her again. “Don’t die. Please.” He grabbed her face, kissing her with so much strength and passion that it felt like her were turning to jelly. “This way… you have to come back because we definitely need to talk about that and our break.”

“Y/N, you coming?” Mai asked, turning around just as Luke pulled away.

“Uh…” Her cheeks flushed red. “Yes. Yeah. I’m coming, Mai!” She looked at Luke and poked his chest. “Stop being confusing and learn to communicate more while I’m gone. See you soon, Luke.” She hurried off, faltering when Mai slung an arm around her shoulder.

Luke didn’t really care about the other demigods being sent off on dangerous quests but if Y/N didn’t return, he swore he would set the world on fire. And he always kept his promises.

Camp was lonely without Y/N, even if all he did was stare longingly at her. “Hey, Lana.” Luke uttered as he leaned against the walls of the Aphrodite cabin, arms crossed over his chest. “How do I… improve my communication?”

“Is this about Y/N?” Lana questioned, tilting her head to the side.

Luke lightly scoffed. “Of course it is. She deserves better but I can’t see her with anyone else so I want to become better.” Luke ran a hand through his hair, clenching his jaw. “I thought that since you’re an Aphrodite kid, you can help me.”

Lana stared at him with a pointed look before she lightly huffed in amusement and nodded. “Okay, first of all… we need to fix your communication problem.”

“I do not have a communication issue.”

“Your relationship with Y/N says otherwise.” Lana raised her eyebrows while Luke sighed. “You see what I mean? So first, communication. Second, words of encouragement. Make her feel special. Validate her. You love her, yes? Then show it. Actions speak louder than words. Once Y/N comes back, you’ll be a whole new person. With my help, duh.”

Lana grinned, pulling Luke into the cabin. “You don’t need a physical makeover. You’re the definition of a pretty boy. What you need is a new mindset. Sure, you and Y/N are in a rough patch with all the arguments.”

Lana slightly scrunched up her nose as she chuckled.

“But if Y/N is this special to you, then changing for her should be no problem. I won’t lie, it’s gonna be hard, Luke. For now, I’m going to make you watch To All the Boys I’ve loved Before, all of the movies, because they have terrible communication. And you’re also gonna watch Say Anything because you need to see the boombox scene.”

“I’ve seen the Lloyd boombox scene, Lana… I’m not holding up a boombox.”

“Not even for Y/N?”

Luke groaned, holding his face in his hands. “Okay. I’ll hold the damn boombox.”

“And play Lana Del Rey?”

“Why Lana Del Rey?”

“Because Y/N loves her. And it’s Lana Del Rey. Who else would you play? Besides, I’m sure Y/N is having a great time and I am in dire need of some toxic love songs here.”

Y/N stared at the hypnotising and flashing lights in front of her. “Let me get this straight,” She muttered, turning to Clarisse and Mai, “We need to get in there…” She pointed at the only entrance, “But the only way to do so is…”

“To walk in. As one of the models.” Mai quickly finished Y/N’s sentence, nodding her head.

Y/N sharply clicked her tongue. “Why not cause a distraction? That seems easier. I mean, we could definitely pull off the model look because we’re all pretty hot but it’s risky.”

“Y/N’s right.” Clarisse piped up. “Lucky for her, I’ve come up with the perfect distraction. Get ready to run in.” The Ares girl cunningly grinned while Y/N and Mai hid beneath a table.

“So, what do you think she’s going to do?” Y/N questioned, peeking out from under the white cloth.

“Maybe pull a fire alarm?”

Y/N shook her head. “That’s not her style.” A loud boom suddenly echoed through the hall. Exploded bits of stone and rubble smashed against the tiled floor, a few bits scratching Y/N’s ankles.

She pressed her lips into a line as she looked at Mai again. “Yeah. That’s more of what I was expecting.”

At this very moment, Y/N hated the number three. It seemed to bring bad luck to her. Three months without Luke and three months on a quest. That was practically six months without his energetic company.

Y/N quietly scoffed to herself. She couldn’t believe that after all this time, Luke still plagued her mind like a disease. Except he wasn’t a disease. Once upon a time, he was Y/N’s light in the darkness.

“What are you doing?” Clarisse asked when she found her best friend curled up in a blanket and rolled up into a small ball.

“Uh… Sleeping?” Y/N came up with a lousy excuse. Clarisse rolled her eyes and lightly kicked Y/N in the side.

“Get up. We’ve got to get to camp before any more monsters find us.”

It had been a difficult mission but Clarisse, Y/N, and Mai had managed to pull it off. Y/N slowly stood up but froze when he heard a loud roar echo through the trees. She and Clarisse exchanged a panicked look.

“Wake Mai up!” Y/N exclaimed, shoving as much as she could into her bag. Clarisse violated shook Mai awake, not giving the groggy girl time to adjust to the light.

The trio sprinted through the woods, trying to stay ahead of whatever was hunting them down. Y/N loudly panted as she reached the top of the hill. Her lungs felt like they were on fire. Unfortunately, neither Clarisse and Mai were blessed with her lighting fast running and the two girls were still lagging behind.

The monster burst through the thick foliage and Y/N’s heart fearfully skipped a beat. “Is that…” She trailed off in shock, staring at the beast with wide eyes.

“It’s a fucking manticore!” Clarisse shouted, pulling her sword out of its sheath. Everything was still and nobody dared to move as the Manticore growled at the group and circled around them.

“One of us has to distract it.” Clarisse quietly muttered as to not alarm the monster.

“I’ll do it.” Y/N quickly replied, reaching for new spear.

Mai pulled out a dagger, gripping it tightly in her left hand. “It’s my quest, guys. I’ll distract the manticore and you run.”

“No way.” Y/N shook her head, “I can take it.”

“I promised Luke I’d keep you safe.” Clarisse sneered, adjusting her stance. “So it should be me.”

“Now is not the time to talk about Luke and I’s complicated relationship.” Y/N snapped, flinching slightly when the manticore growled again.

“He kissed you, Y/N. I’d say he still has plenty of feelings left for you.” Mai’s eyes carefully followed the manticore’s moves. It seemed to have enough of their bickering and it lunged at the person closest to it. That person was Mai.

She screamed as the manticore attempted to claw at her face. Clarisse slashed through the monster’s wing and it howled in evident pain. Its scorpion tail reached for Y/N but she jumped back before the stinger could pierce her flesh.

“I could use some help!” Mai shouted as the manticore’s sharp fangs sank into her right shoulder. Y/N knocked the monster off Mai and quickly helped the girl up.

“I’d say the cut wing is plenty of distraction. Now I would prefer to run before it stings us all!” Y/N exclaimed. She was lucky enough to dodge it’s stinger the first time but she couldn’t guarantee her success at doing it again.

Clarisse hacked at the manticore’s eyes, almost slitting its face open. “Let’s go!” She screamed, pushing an injured Mai towards camp. Y/N took off after her friends but the manticore made one more desperate lunge for a target.

Its stinger sank into her leg and she screamed in pain. Y/N stumbled, eventually falling and hitting the hard ground.

“Y/N!” Clarisse turned back, sprinting towards the H/C-nette.

The manticore pulled its stinger out with a loud squelch and it’s claws sliced at Y/N’s leg, creating a gash so bloody that Clarisse had to look away in fear she’d throw up at the gruesome sight.

Y/N desperately stretched out her hand to grab something, anything. When her hand brushed against a decently-sized rock, she grabbed it and whacked the manticore.

She scrambled up, pulling out her spear once more and hurling it in the direction of the monster’s heart. The sharp weapon pierced its chest and the monster exploded into golden fragments.

“Shit, shit, shit. We need to get you back to camp.” Clarisse said, panicking as she watched light grey veins stem from the sting. That was never a good sign.

“What’s taking them so long?” Percy asked as he sat beside Luke, holding a plate of food. It had been ages since Mai, Y/N, and Clarisse had left

“A quest takes time.” Annabeth butted in, “And this sounded like a hard one, even for them.”

“I’m sure the three of them can handle it.” Luke said, mainly to reassure himself that Y/N hadn’t died a painful and untimely death. Percy’s eyes flickered to a trio approaching the top of the hill.

“Hey.” He nudged Luke, “Is… Is that them?”

Luke could recognise Y/N’s H/C hair from a mile away. He stood up, accidentally hitting the table. That was Percy’s unspoken answer. Mai and Clarisse had Y/N’s arms slung around their shoulders as she limped forward. But Y/N suddenly tripped and the three of them stumbled, more like rolled, down the hill.

“Oh. Shit.” Luke was the first to react. He ran over to Y/N, who was lying underneath Mai. She groaned under the weight of the other demigod.

“I told you to be careful with your shoulder.” Clarisse grumbled, pulling Mai off Y/N. Luke hurriedly helped her up.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Apart from almost getting my leg torn off and the venom spreading quickly, I’m great.” Y/N awkwardly smiled and winced when she moved her injured limb. “Would you mind helping me to the infirmity?” She asked, but Luke was already one step ahead. He easily picked her up and laid her down on the first free bed he saw.

“What happened?” He asked as he looked at Y/N’s slashed leg.

Y/N was silent for a moment before she shrugged. “Manticore.” She said like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was because half her leg was almost falling off. Luke wanted to puke as he merely stared at it.

“Hey,” He said to a passing Apollo kid, “Do you think you could, I dunno, save her before she dies from manticore venom?”

The Apollo kid looked at Y/N’s leg, his nose scrunching up. “It did a good number on you. Mai got away with only a bite.”

“Yeah, I guess it has something to do with Zeus being my father.” Y/N sighed. “But my leg is really starting to hurt now.”

“The venom hasn’t spread to your torso yet so that’s good news. We may have to knock you unconscious because fixing this wound will take some time… and pain. Probably a lot of pain.” The boy called a few of his siblings over, quickly explaining the situation to them.

Luke stepped back to give them space and he waited until Y/N was unconscious before he left. “She’ll be okay, right?” He asked Genieve, one of the most skilled healers.

“She’s a tough girl, Luke. She’ll be fine.”

Y/N awoke a week later. She groaned as she sat up, stretching her arms and popping her back. She yawned, looking around at her surroundings. Multiple get better cards littered the table next to her and she smiled when she saw Percy’s bad attempt at drawing a whale.

“Oh. You’re awake.” Genieve kindly smiled at Y/N, “I was getting a little scared that you were in a coma.”

Y/N moved her injured leg, surprised to see that nothing was left of the grisly cut except a dark scar.

“We did our best but injuries from monsters don’t fully go away.” Genieve sheepishly piped up.

Y/N knew that. It was the same case with Luke’s scar. She jolted at the thought of Luke. Y/N turned to Genieve, wanting to ask where the boy was. She figured that it was finally time to talk with him.

No arguments, no misunderstandings, no blaming each other for something they couldn’t control.

As if understanding what she wanted, Genieve pointed towards the closed door. “Outside.” Was all she said.

Y/N walked towards the door, slowly pulling it open. A cold gust of air hit her and she shivered. Camp was usually warm all year round, even when it was snowing because the snow couldn’t get past the barrier.

Y/N stepped forward, looking around in shock as she sank into the freezing, knee-height snow. She had always wanted to touch it but Chiron warned her that going outside the barrier, even if it was close to camp, was dangerous.

There was a new sparkle in Y/N’s eye as she crouched down to grab a handful. She heard the lulling sound of music and when she looked up, she burst into laughter at the sight of Luke holding a boombox. He held it up high and with pride, not caring about the questioning looks campers gave him.

“You said you always wanted to see and touch snow… so I brought you some.” Luke uttered, his voice overlapping with the melodic sound of Lana Del Rey.

Tell me I'm your national anthem.

Red, white, blue is in the sky.

Summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes.

“I don’t care what you do, Sparky.” Luke said as he walked until he was standing in front of her. He placed the boombox down. “Break my heart. Break my heart into a thousand pieces and bury them. Do whatever you want… because I love you.”

Y/N cupped his cold face in her hands, lightly sniffing. She cracked a small smile. “You’re the only one for me, Luke. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, Sparky. From now on, I’ll communicate with you better. I’ll do anything for you. I’d kill for you, I’d set the world on fire for you. Just as long as I can hug and kiss you and call you mine.”

END.

#luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #grover pjo #grover underwood #luke castellan #annabeth chase #annabeth pjo #hermes pjo #zeus pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson series #greek mythology #the lightning thief

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wokeupchrisbrezy · 3 months ago

Text

Love?

Lando Norris

Warnings : Smut, cheating (on reader's part), angst (yes no maybe so??)

You love him. Of course you do.

Your mind tried to convince your heart at least. You loved your boyfriend. Key word: Loved. He didn’t do anything wrong. He was the epitome of a perfect boyfriend. Kind, Sweet, Loving, Understanding. The list goes on. He was beautiful. A beautiful being, soul and all.

But…

Why did it feel like you were missing something? Like your heart yearned for more? What more could you have? You have security and love. It's selfish in all honesty. Selfish to want more. For something else. Something new and exciting.

That’s the problem. It isn’t exciting anymore. There are no risks. All support and security.

With problems, comes solutions. Your solution was sitting on your couch, with a smug smile adorning his lips, listening to you list your, so called, issues with your current boyfriend.

You can’t get risk and thrill from something that secures you. It simply can not happen. You’re in the prime of your life, a time for risk and adrenaline, and you’re complaining about a man, your boyfriend, because he is stable and supportive.

What an asshole, right?

Anyways, snap out of it. Let’s focus on the damned solution that's sitting on your couch.

This so-called solution is a pain in your ass, but god, he was gorgeous. He was the visual of what you wanted, what you needed…

He knew it too. He wanted to lure you in. To capture you in his intoxicating grasp. You’ve seen, firsthand, of the flings and one night stands he has. They’re messy. Fallout and all. Gross honestly. No Wattpad Netflix movie adaptation could compare.

“Oh my god. Why are you still with him? He’s so… boring. So simple.” He mused as his thumb pressed small circles into the thickness of your thigh. “Be real with yourself. You don’t like him anymore.”

His touch seemed so foreign and familiar at the same time.

“I do love him. He’s my boyfriend.” A sigh left your mouth.

“Ah, I didn’t say love. I said ‘like’.” He corrected you. His touch wandered a little further. Testing the waters. “You can love someone but not like them. You care for him obviously but you just don't like him anymore. You need a taste of something new.” He gave you a look. What look? No clue but it was a look that reeked of innuendo.

The response on your face gave away your longing to let go. To fall into the deep depths of adventure but your loyalty kept you anchored. For now.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Your voice was barely audible.

“Like what?” His response was immediate.

His smirk never went away. He was painfully aware of what he was doing.

“I don’t want to break up with him.” You mentioned.

“Yeah… But… If you keep going on like this, you’re just emotionally and mentally cheating. Hurting you and him in the end.” His tone became serious but his hands sinned with desire. His touch kept persisting, toying with the lines of what friends were. Not enough to have a visual effect on your face but enough to make you squirm.

“You’re right.” You murmured.

“You just need a sample of something new then you’ll make up your mind…” He reasoned. The expression in his eyes was killer. Alluring and taunting. Reeling you in bit by bit.

Should I?

The question was consuming your mind. You should leave it unanswered.

How desperate did he have to be to flirt with his friend?

Your hand grabbed his wrist to stop his fingers from lingering further. “What happened to that girl from the club? Why aren’t you bothering her?” You inquired.

His eyebrows furrowed for a split second before he brushed it off with a laugh. “Oh, her? She’s acting like we’re something… some shit like that. I picked her up once and now she thinks I’m in love.” The way he spoke was a red flag. He acted like she was a burden. Such a turn off honestly.

Great… a whore and an asshole.

He could tell that he probably pissed you off with his tone. “I just told her that I didn’t mean to give off those vibes and shit.” This time, his tone was gentle and kind. Just enough to show you that he wasn’t a complete manwhore. He still was though.

“Uh huh…” You didn’t sound too convinced.

He pushed himself off the back of your couch and turned to face you fully. His hand ran from your mid calf to upper thigh. Goosebumps formed in the wake of his touch. “You should dump him. You’re obviously not happy.” His tone became firm again. His body leaned towards yours.

Maybe it was a bad idea to be laying in the corner of your couch. An easy way to be contained.

“Don’t you miss being able to go where you want without telling anyone. Being able to hang out with anyone…” His voice became more and more sensual as he drew on. “Fucking who you want without consequences?” His cheek brushed yours as his voice ghosted your ears.

Your eyes lock. You want to stop. To tell him no. To be faithful.

The pull is too much. It’s too powerful.

In an instant, your lips lock. The makeout is messy and exciting. Lust drove to your core. His hands hastily pull off your clothes so he can bless his eyes with the sight of your body.

Your shirt ended up behind the couch, into the abyss of the unknown, as his hands ran from your waist to your covered breasts. His fingers disappeared behind your back to unclip your bra. A small hiss left your lips at the coldness of his hands. Soon your black bra, ol’ faithful, was stripped off your body.

The sight of his eyes made your stomach turn into knots. It looked like he was about to ravage you. His eyes automatically glued to your breasts. Your eyes never met once your shirt came off. It was like your face didn’t exist.

What did you expect?

“Are you just gonna stare?” You murmured out.

“Let me take in the view.” He shot back as he pushed your legs over his shoulders. You were not glad he assumed you were flexible. This man was going to bend you twenty-two ways till Thursday.

He pulled off your sweatpants then your panties before he discarded them onto the floor. Your thighs almost met your upper body before he sunk down. A small warmth from his breath ghosted over your inner thighs. He was obviously taking in the sight.

And when he leaned in…

“This is unfair.” You said before stopping his head with your hand.

“What are you talking about?” He huffed in damn near frustration.

“I’m butt-ass naked and you’re still fully clothed. Strip.” You ordered.

“Yes ma’am.” He said with a mock salute. He gave you a show. Standing up and slowly taking his shirt off so you can bask in the sight of his toned torso. His hands playfully unbuckled his belt before teasingly pushing down his pants and underwear.

“You could be a stripper.” You blurted out while withholding a laugh.

“And I bet you’d be the number one customer.” He smirked before climbing in between your legs.

Your thighs made perfect earmuffs for him. His head dipped between your legs, earning a small squeeze around his head from your thighs and a gasp from your lips.

“Could’ve at least warned me…” You scoffed before the playful irritation left your face in turn of pleasure.

Pleasure bubbled up in your upper chest as your breath got caught in the top of your throat. Small breaths left your mouth before quiet moans took their place. Your eyes were half-lidded as you started down at his brown curls, your manicured hand lightly grabbing them.

His tongue ran up and down your slit before dipping into your entrance. Wet noises were filling some silence along with your minute whines and moans. His hands gripping onto your thighs as he let out a small groan. His eyes were closed as he reveled in your taste and feel. It was obvious he did this for himself, not for you. This was never for you. He just wanted to get his dick wet. A taste of new pussy he hasn’t discovered yet.

He easily slipped two fingers into you as his tongue traveled up to your clit. His ring and middle finger curled to hit that exact spot that would make your hips buckle and back arch.

And that is exactly what you did. A louder and choked gasp escaped as your hips rolled towards his mouth. A sickening smile appeared on his mouth as he pulled back. “I think you’re prepared enough, yeah?” He suggested as his fingers left you.

His fingers were glistening with your juices before he adjusted your legs. Your ankles were right by his ears.

His cock prodding at your entrance before he positioned himself right. You held your breath as you waited for the addictive stretch. A second later, your wish was granted. A small line formed on your lips as you tipped your head back.

He didn’t move after he finally sank all the way. He pushed a little bit more just to toy with you.

You felt the tips of his fingers poke at your bottom lip. You stare up at him, maintaining eye contact, as you open your mouth slightly. He pushed his two fingers in, making you taste yourself.

“You taste amazing, right?” He teased before he began to grind his hips. The grinding eventually turned into shallow thrusts. Your head lazily nods before pulling back to rid your mouth of his fingers.

His eyebrows furrowed and his head snapped up. He was watching his cock disappear and reappear from the heaven between your thighs. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and, almost harshly, held the sides of your face with his hand. From your left cheek to the left corner of your lips were covered with saliva.

Disgusting… ish? Who knows. Not me, that’s for sure. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. His hand let go of your face, almost pushing it away, and grabbed your hips. He pulled you further underneath him. This caused his angle to get deeper and deeper and deeper. A small groan left his lips and his pace increased.

It wasn’t long before he was taking you to pound town. Your muscles in your legs were tensing ever so often as he kept hitting your g-spot over and over again. Your walls clenched around him, earning more groans and grunts from him. “Fuck…” He murmured out.

A small layer of sweat covered his torso, adding to the deliciousness that was his body. Your hips rolled a couple times just to add to the friction. Moans bounced off the walls of your apartment.

Noise violation #4.

Your hand traveled in between your bodies to show your clit some much needed TLC. Small and slow circles were drawn before his hand took over. He hastily rubbed your clit which made your body jerk back before moving against his hand. He wanted you at his mercy. Under his control. Only feeling what he does to you. Only his hands. Only his lips.

Only him. Selfish much?

Multiple thoughts ran through his mind. Mostly were random, just something else to think about so he doesn’t bust too quickly. The others were about your relationship. Not the relationship between the two of you, but your relationship. The one between you and your boyfriend. Did he feel guilty? No. But, he did feel somewhat bad for your boyfriend. Then again, it’s not his fault that your boyfriend can’t fuck like he can. Your boyfriend doesn’t possess boyfriend dick.

Your face contorted into pleasure ridden expressions as your hands scratched along his back and shoulders. Your moans became more frequent and whiny. His name fell from your lips like a mantra. Chanting it like it would answer your prayers.

He was answering at least one prayer. Anyway who…

You constricted around him tightly. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck—” You gasped out. “I’m gonna cum.” Your back arched off the couch as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. His hand returned to your clit in aid. The high went over you as choked sobs left your lips. Melodic sounds left his own throat as he continued to pound into you. “Shit—” He huffed. He hammered into you faster as you came down from cloud nine in chase of his release. Labored breaths left his mouth. “Fuck, where do you want it, babe?” The nickname slipped out of his lips.

“Out. Out. I don’t care where. Just out.” You hastily answered his question, ignoring the nickname.

A couple more deep thrusts tore through you before he pulled out. Emptiness consumed your insides before you felt the warm and thick liquid on your breasts. A stupid smirk adorned his lips as he stroked his cock. Your calves were resting on the contours on his chest. His hands ran from your hips to your ankles.

His right went up and down your slit a couple times before inserting his middle finger. He quickly took it out after a small shiver ran up your spine. He stared down at you in silence before licking off his fingers. He made sure to sexually suck off his fingers which earned an eye roll from you.

He mocked your muffled moans from earlier as he did. A small laugh left his throat after.

He removed your legs from his torso and stood from the couch. He slid his underwear and pants before wandering into your kitchen. You sat up and let out a small groan. Half out of approaching soreness and the other half from the cum that pearled on your chest.

He came back with a wet paper towel and cleaned up his mess. He couldn’t help but grab a handful of your breasts before throwing away the paper towel.

“You are the epitome of a teenage boy.” You said as you swatted his grabby hands away.

You could hear him snickered before he came back.

He finished dressing himself before throwing your clothes at you. He was really pissing you off by now. You were so tempted to kick him out but you knew it wouldn’t have helped anything.

“Call me when you finally leave his sorry ass.” He blurted out, in a simple, almost cold, tone as he buckled his belt. “I don’t fuck with actively cheating bitches more than once. Let me know how it goes though, as a friend… not a fuck buddy.” He added.

Surprise flashed over your features before restoring back to neutrality. “Oh? So you wouldn’t fuck me again?” A small bite in your tone showed.

He shook his head and smirked. “I said ‘call me when…’” “I’ll spell it out for your dumbass. I will fuck you again but only when you’re single.” He taunted you. You pulled your shirt over your head and fixed it around your hips. You picked up your phone and your soul almost left your body.

Either your boyfriend called you or you called your boyfriend. But it didn’t deny the fact that the seconds kept adding up on the call. You felt a headache coming on as his face concealed no empathy.

Bet that fucker would say, “Told you so.”

You were hesitant to speak. So you didn’t. Your finger ended the call between you and your boyfriend so fast. Your phone buzzed with messages that you didn’t even bother reading at this point in time.

Fuck…

#f1 smut #f1 x reader #formula 1 #lando norris #f1 #writing #don't let this flop #lando norris smut #late night post #ln4 #ln4 x reader #mclaren #f1 fic #smut

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latenightdaydreams · 4 months ago

Note

I'm so desperate for Boxer Konig and reader. I imagine it would be like König fights every night for living in the ring and reader is bartender in that place, like it has a bar counter for drinks. Reader is his favorite bartender. ❤️❤️

Imagine being able to go to work and see him sweaty and shirtless everyday🤭💖

Boxer!König x Bartender (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral, public sex

2.2k

🥊

König watches you set up the bar out of the corner of his eye as he talks to his trainer, Horangi, before the fight. His eyes drift over how your black shirt hugs the curve of your breasts. The jeans you wore today shows off your stunning shape. Everything his trainer was saying fell on deaf ears. He already knows everything. He’s undefeated. Right now, he just wants to focus on you. How can you look so tantalizing when simply pouring buckets of ice?

“König.” Horangi snaps his fingers in his face. “Are you listening to me?”

“Ja, ja. I know it all already.”

Horangi shakes his head at König’s cocky attitude. His eyes follow König’s gaze landing on you, giving you a quick up down before turning back. “Focus.” His hand on König’s shoulder, he leads him away to the back to get ready.

As you turn your head, you watch König’s eyes drift from your form to the ground as he gets guided away. A small smirk crosses your lips. You always catch him checking you out, but he makes no moves.

The day goes on and people flood the arena and fill seats. A line begins to form as you and your fellow bartender work in sync to make sure all patrons' orders get filled. As you bend down to grab a bottle of grenadine, you hear König being announced in the ring. Quickly, you perk up and watch as König walks out in his boxer shorts with the Austrian flag on them. His opponent being a 6 '4 Russian man, while he’s massive, he’s no match for König.

König’s eyes land on you as you smile brightly at a man accepting a drink from your delicate hands. He shifts his gaze to his opponent as people in the crowd cheer for both men. König gazes down at him with his icy blue stare and a stoic face.

From behind the bar, your eyes drift down König’s muscular body, which is sporadically littered with scars. You watch the fight begin as you continue to pass out drinks and chat with patrons. When König takes a hard hit, you watch with a worried look, glancing away and focusing on the man before you asking for another beer.

At the end of the fight, König’s arm rises to celebrate another win. The crowd cheers loudly, the losers coming to the bar to close tabs or get stronger drinks. König stands on stage posing for the crowd with two ring girls on their side of him. He respectfully keeps his hands to himself, his eyes finding you at the bar. For a split second in time, you meet his gaze and he smiles at you. The smile you give back sets a fire within him. When he hears his name being called, he looks forward, stepping into another pose with the women before exiting the ring.

As the night winds down, you begin to clean the bar and restock for tomorrow. The girl you work with heading out early since she has a family to tend to. As your back is turned from the bar you can hear someone lean against the counter. You turn, expecting to see one of the lingering patrons, but instead it’s König. He’s wearing a black shirt with his boxer shorts still, a fresh bruise on his left cheek bone.

“Hey König.”

“Hallo.” He shamelessly drops his gaze down to your breasts before looking back into your eyes. He combs his fingers through his messy blonde hair.

“Congratulations on the fight.”

“Danke.” König leans into the counter more, eyeing you. “How was your night? It looked pretty busy over here.” He has no idea how to flirt with you, he’s used to being cocky and the women tossing themselves at him. For some reason, you always make him nervous.

“Yeah, it was a good night for tips.” You smile and rest your palms on the counter top. “So, what can I get for you?”

“How about a celebratory shot?” He smirks.

“Coming right up.” You turn and grab the whisky you know he likes, pouring a shot for him before sliding it across to him.

You watch his Adam's apple bob as he takes the shot. His large hands wrap around the tiny glass making it appear much smaller. Once he places the glass back down, he turns his attention back to you.

“I saw you watching me.” He says in a semi flirty tone, testing the waters. “Did you enjoy the fight?”

“I did. It’s always exciting to watch you win.” You stroke his ego.

König smiles hearing your words. He watches as your turn to continue shutting down the bar. He knows every night you get hot water to melt the remaining ice so he stands, preparing to help you with the heavy bucket of water. Without asking, he grabs the bucket from your hand gently; his rough skin caressing yours slightly.

“I’ve got the water.” He says simply before walking off to fill it in the kitchen area.

“Oh, thank you.” As you watch him walk away you stand there suppressing a giddy smile. You turn and continue to clean the area.

König walks back with the bucket full of steaming hot water and carefully walks past you with it. He lifts it so effortlessly, pouring it over the remaining ice. Your eyes focus on the way his burly arms flex ever so slightly. He can definitely feel your stare, turning his head to see you looking at him.

You quickly look away feeling ashamed for getting caught looking. Trying to distract from the tension you walk away to the storage room to grab things needed to restock the bar for tomorrow’s fight. König’s eyes follow you as you walk away. He puts down the bucket and follows behind you.

The door closes behind you when you step into the room. You grab the step stool and walk to where the little toothpicks are stored. As you step up, you hear the door open and close. Before you can even turn around you feel his hands wrap around your waist.

“Now you’re closer to my height.” König whispers. On the step stool you come up to his chin now versus before you only reached his chest. Without getting you off balance, he leans you back so your back is pressed against his chest.

“König.” You giggle saying his name, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush as his arms embrace you.

“What?” König chuckles, enjoying the sound of your giggle. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck and smells your sweat from a long day of working the bar.

A shiver runs down your spine and goosebumps rise on your skin as he presses his lips against your neck; his lips moist and tender against your flesh. Slowly, he moves his under your shirt, caressing your stomach and moving up until his hand cups your breasts through your bra. His kisses turn steamier as he gropes you.

“Do you know how distracting you are? You make it impossible to focus on my fights when all I can think of is touching your body like this.” His voice is dripping with a primal desire for your body.

König turns you around to face him, his hand slipping out from your shirt and holding your waist. His other hand caresses the side of your face, cupping it in his hand. “Beautiful.” He leans in and kisses your lips. A spark ignites throughout his whole body as he finally tastes your sweet lips.

Your hands rest on his muscular chest, eyes closed as you allow yourself to melt into the romantic embrace with König. His hand on your waist dropping down to your hip, pressing you closer to him so you can feel his erection.

“You drive me crazy, Schatzi. Do you want me?” His voice deeper as he leans back in to claim your lips in a sensual kiss.

“Mhm, yes.” You manage to mumble out.

König’s fingers reach down and begin to undo your pants. A wave of excitement rushes through your body but also a bit of nervousness. Public sex isn’t something you’ve ever done nor considered, especially not at your place of work. Yet, you don’t protest, letting him pull your pants down. Once they are around your thighs, his fingers instantly find your clit through the fabric of your underwear, making small circles to pull moans from you.

As he breaks the kiss he looks down at your face as you writhe in pleasure before him. His sleepy blue eyes glance down at your face, taking in how he is turning you into a puddle before him. The fabric of your panties damp, stirring a deep desire within him.

König wraps his arms around you, lifting you and walking you to press you up against a wall. He drops to his knees before you and pulls your pants down completely. Lifting one of your legs, he rests it over his shoulder. His lips press kisses over your clothed cunt, licking the wet spot and getting a taste of you. A quiet moan flees your lips, your eyes gazing down at him.

“You smell so… suß.” König says looking up at you.

A light heat spreads across your face, you’ve been busy on your feet so you know that the scent of your body wash has worn off. He just likes the way your naturally sweaty cunt smells, and for some reason that really turns you on.

The adrenaline for the fight mixes with the aroma wafting from your body, König becomes greedy and he just needs you. He pulls the wet fabric aside and swipes his tongue across your glistening folds, savoring the taste.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hold back anymore.” König quickly stands, his hands dropping his shorts quickly. His eyes dart around the room trying to figure out the best way to do this. His eyes look over your body for a moment. “Take them off.” He points to your underwear and you comply.

In a hurry, König grabs your wrist and pulls you to him. Your shirt is pulled off your body, tossed to the side as König looks at your full breasts in your black bra. He effortlessly lifts you, your legs resting in the crook of his arms. As he holds you, pressing your back against the wall, he takes his time to kiss your cleavage and admire just how gorgeous you truly are.

You can feel his cock lingering at the entrance of your vagina, slightly pressing in as he kisses and bites all over your breasts. He slowly inches forward with his hips until he can feel your welcoming warmth wrap around the tip of his cock. His low groan is met with your light moan. Your walls hug him tightly, fluttering as they adjust to his size.

“Fuck, y/n. You’re fucking…tight.” The word ‘tight’ comes out in a growl.

With your legs on his arms, he rests his hands on your back, hips slowly thrusting forward into you. His lips explore your tender flesh up to your mouth. He places soft kisses on your lips while mumbling sweet words to you in German that you don’t understand.

“Pull your bra down.” He demands as he watches your hands pull your breasts out of your bra. The fabric squeezes them together as they bounce lightly with each thrust.

He steps away from the wall and moves his hands down to your ass. His muscles flex as he bounces you on his cock. The feeling of your gummy cunt sending him into a trance like state, his eyes following the way your supple flesh ripples with every harsh thrust.

“König!” You moan out, almost yelling. His thick cock slams into you without mercy, fucking you senseless. Your nails dig into his arms as your eyes flutter back. “Please…”

König watches your face now, taking in every detail and savoring every sound. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well. Diese Muschi ist perfekt.”

“Yes.” You gasp out. “Please fuck me, König.”

“Das ist es, Baby.”

His blue eyes are now black from dilation. Hearing you beg for him triggered a primal instinct in him. You’re his. This is his pussy. He slams you down on his cock, making sure to stuff you with every single inch.

Horangi walks throughout the gym looking for König, he’s nowhere to be found. He walks out to the ring to see if maybe he went back out to just sit, still not there. As he glances around, he can hear a slapping sound in the distance, curious, he follows it.

The sound begins to mix with moans and loud dirty talk in German. König is fucking that bartender. Horangi runs his hand over his face and lets out a deep annoyed sigh. Now isn’t the time for König to become infatuated with this woman even further, which he knows he will be. Horangi stands there and listens to König’s whimpers and your borderline screaming. He decides to just walk away and let König finish, he will talk to him about this later.

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konnosaurus · 5 months ago

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happy pride month everyone!!!!! have a small selection of little headcanons i have for some of my faves :3

this definitely isn't a full list of all of my personal headcanons, just a few that i really like. i've put the flag names/some thoughts under the cut! these are just my personal thoughts and it is perfectly wonderful if you disagree with any/all of them!

from left to right:

rosie: the rainbow flag. she is an enjoyer of women and everyone woman-adjacent!

henry: bi and nonbinary. i have such a fond spot in my heart for he/they henry!

james: genderfluid and biromantic. collects all the pronouns, with a preference for he and she depending on the vibes of the moment! i enjoy headcanoning james as biromantic and a big enjoyer of romance and flirting, but he is sooo bad at it. he tries out all of his best pickup lines on his friends and they just laugh in his face (with affection and care, mostly!) because she's just so terrible at them. she has never successfully flirted with anyone in her life and i love that for him < 3

emily: lesbian. professional enjoyer of all women. she fits so well with almost every single woman she meets and it is splendid. i really love in the great race how she has little chats with ashima and seems to really like her, it's a really sweet little bit of background interaction i enjoy. also, best engine ever is wonderful and her n caitlin are so sweet. give emily her women!

ryan: aroace. i honestly don't think i have much to say about this one, i just really like it.. though i also like ryan/thomas and ryan/daisy hehe. eh, those can all live in harmony in my brain :3

oliver: gay. professional enjoyer of men and those men-adjacent. i have a little comic planned that i will be making soon with him and douglas hehe

rebecca: omnisexual. i used to have rebecca as pan in my mind, but @togetherness23 (who has loads of gorgeous flags colourpicked from screenshots and is currently running a ttte sapphic ships poll tournament, go check them out if you haven't already!!!) has influences me with a gorgeous colourpicked omni rebecca and now i have to admit i can't think of her as anything else, omni tracks soooo well for her i love it!

anywayss, thanks for reading this if you get this far and have a wonderful day (and wonderful pride month!!) everyone!

#konnochats #konnodoodle #art #ttte #ttte art #ttte fanart #thomas and friends #ttte rosie #ttte henry #ttte james #ttte emily #ttte ryan #ttte oliver #ttte rebecca #ashimaxemily #caitlinxemily #ryanxthomas #daisyxryan #douglasxoliver

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whosyuno · 1 year ago

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hotel paradise (m) | ft. jung jaehyun

summary you visit an exclusive brothel to satisfy your needs. cw smut, praise, humiliation, toy play, light choking, squirting word count 3.1k a/n i'm thinking of turning this into a smut series featuring different members of nct hehe! chap two three

It’s only when you’ve spent half the night burrowing your vibrator between your thighs and it decided to die right before you’ve reached your climax, that you decided to take up your colleague’s suggestion.

Fresh out of a break-up, you had moved to Seoul a few months back. The money here was better anyways and you wanted to forget all about your ex. All your highschool friends that had moved to Seoul always talked about how Seoul was the It-Place. Where the people were wild and parties were wilder. You thought you were finally going to find people that brought the much needed excitement and thrill you desired, particularly in your bedroom. Your ex-boyfriend, although your highschool sweetheart, wasn’t the best in bed and most of his attempts had left you feeling unsatisfied and yearning for more… fun.

Of course, nothing ever turned out the way you wanted and, now, six months into your stay in Seoul, you’ve never had anyone approach you, much less touch you. But when one of your colleagues-turned-friends caught wind of your little situation, she had casually introduced you to “just the place to get your needs sorted”.

So that’s how, at 2:38AM on a Saturday, you found yourself standing before an unassuming building, its exterior the same dark maroon bricks as the surrounding buildings with a panel of frosted glass doors facing you. The light from within shone into the street, illuminating the empty night, if not for the lingering drunkards from the parties before.

You glanced down at your phone, at an invitation message, as you took a moment to steel your resolve. You tried to push out the thoughts of doubt out of your head. In any case, if Hotel Paradise was exclusive enough to require an invitation by an existing member, then that must be a green flag, right?

You were immediately greeted by a bleach-blond haired lady when you walked through the doors. She looked neat and tidy, which calmed your anxieties about this being a sketchy brothel just a little.

“Welcome to Hotel Paradise, I’m Taeyeon, what can I do for you?” she said, with a perfected customer service smile.

You showed her your invitation message, and she made quick work in creating a membership for you in the system.

“Any requests for tonight?” she asked and gestured towards the plaques in front of you.

Your cheeks were quick to turn pink at her direct question. You glanced over at the plaques on the surface of the reception desk. Laminated behind plastic, they detailed a list of 20 boys, with photos and a short list of their strengths. Amidst your fluster, you quickly pointed at the first one that caught your attention. Jung Jaehyun, Toy Play, Praise and Humiliation.

“Okay,” she said as her freshly manicured fingers ran across her keyboard, “looks like he’s free currently. Is there anything else you’d like?”

You shook your head, mortified to share any more of your kinks with a stranger - kinks that you didn’t even share with your ex.

It took a moment before Taeyeon motioned you to go up the spiral stairs behind the counter. Second room to your left, she mentioned. You swallowed your saliva, before walking into the room.

The room was quite spacious, with egg-white paint coating the walls, a neatly made king-sized bed in the middle and a decent bathroom attached. If it wasn't for the row of sex toys placed on the table at the foot of the bed, you could have fooled anyone into thinking it was a room in any respectable hotel.

“My, my, what a lovely guest,” the man in the middle of the room came to greet you.

Immediately, you were captivated by his looks. You had picked him, for the most part, due to his photo. But looking at him in person was a whole other experience. His fluffy brown hair was carelessly tossed backwards with a few stray strands perfectly framing his face. His almond-shaped eyes were pressed into crescents and only god knew how hard you’d fall for his dazzling smile.

His hands reached over and removed the little shoulder bag that you had brought with you. And in a smooth motion, his arm slipped around your waist as he guided you to sit on the bed. It was only now, sitting in front of Jaehyun, that you’d wished you had spent just a little more time in choosing a more appropriate outfit. In a rush to satisfy your needs and to save on laundry efforts, you had put on your office wear - a neat powder blue blouse tucked into wide legged black trousers - the same one that had worn to the office on Friday.

“Busy day, huh?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your jawline.

You nodded; your cheeks flushed against his warm touch. Your attention was entirely drawn in by him and his effortless charm.

“I’ll reward you for working hard,” he said before gently kissing you.

His lips, soft and plump, pressed against yours softly, as if testing out the waters. Once, then twice. And another. When your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer, his tongue skillfully parted your lips and darted into your mouth. He tasted like cool mint, and you caught a whiff of his sandalwood cologne. The intensity and fervour of the kiss only increased with each passing moment. Lust ignited a flame within you that spread across your body.

He used his body weight and pushed you down on the bed, with one knee between your legs to balance. His hand wandered around your body, caressing your breast, your waist and your butt before his fingers made quick work of your pants’ button and zipper. He slid the trousers off and, with a little kick from you, threw the pants across the room.

His lips then left yours for a moment, and it drew out a whine that you had never heard yourself make. It pleased him to hear your voice. You watched as a simple make out transformed the sweet and charming man into a lustful one. His once inviting smile morphed into a thirsty smirk, his lips were swollen, and his eyes burned with desire.

He left the bed for a moment, picking up your trousers and a small vibrator from the table before returning to you. He used the trousers as a makeshift rope to tie both your wrists to the bedpost and before dropping down between your legs.

“You look so pretty from down here,” he said as he placed the small vibrator against your clothed clit.

He moved it up and down, along your slit, taking in your moans of pleasure. He watched your every effort to push yourself closer to climax: how you’d buck your hips when the vibe hitted the right spot, how your moans got louder and less restrained and how your hands struggled against the bedpost.

“Please, please, please,” you cried out, “please let me cum- oh my god, I’m so close.”

Everything you did only pleased him further.

“You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?” He slid the vibrator away from your clit, “Already cumming for a stranger you’ve barely met?”

Your hips bucked and adjusted, hoping to feel the vibrator again, “Please, please.”

You whined and moaned but all he did was watch. His control was immaculate, he’d place the vibrator against your clit and just as you were about to cum, he’d take it off. Then he did it again. And again.

“Say it,” he said, “Let me hear it. What are you?”

A blush of mortification coloured your cheeks, no one had ever called you a slut.

“I’m…” You struggled to get the words out.

Jaehyun punished your hesitation by pushing the vibrator against your clit again.

You whined and were reminded of the reward at the end of the sentence, “I’m a slut. I’m a slut just for you.”

Pleased with your words and your desperation, Jaehyun finally let you cum, “That’s right, cum for me, slut. You’re such a good slut for me.”

He watched as the ecstasy ebbed through your body, your hips bucking high before crashing down against the bed, your fingers digging into your palms and your lips carelessly spewing out ‘thank you’s and ‘oh my god’s.

“That felt good, right?”

You nodded, albeit a little tired from that singular orgasm. It’s not an exaggeration to say that no one had made you feel the way his touch did. Forcing you to brand yourself as a slut sparked a new thrill for yourself. Everything he did only drew you into his lust-driven heaven.

He let you rest for a brief moment, as he swapped out the small vibrator for a vibrating dildo this time.

Watching Jaehyun put the dildo in his hands, you perked up with more energy.

By now, your cotton panties had been drenched in your juices. So, Jaehyun slipped them off to reveal your pussy. It’s been awhile since you’ve shaved, it wasn’t like you had anyone to show them to. This was an impromptu decision you had made. You immediately shut your legs up together, hiding them in embarrassment.

Jaehyun responded by softly prying your legs open, “no need for shyness now, kitten.”

His words were charming and comforting, which gave you just that little boost of confidence that you had needed. You opened your legs again.

This time, a newfound hunger engulfed Jaehyun at the sight of your glistening core.

He was quick to abandon his initial plan, lowering himself between your legs before burying himself into your thighs. Like a parched lion, his tongue was quick to lap up your juices.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he mumbled against your core, the vibration created a new sensation and drew out a soft mewl from you.

His tongue moved skillfully, each motion methodical and purposeful. He alternated between licking up and down your wet heat and swirling his tongue around your swollen clit. Either way, your head was dizzy with arousal. Your hips grinded against his face, searching for another release. Explicit words mixed with his name and your pleas carelessly tumbled out of your lips. Try as you might, you could barely contain your voice.

You hadn’t noticed it, but in the midst of your pleasure, Jaehyun had managed to push a singular finger into your core. His initial finger worked slower than his mouth, it’s only when a second finger thrusted into you that you felt him. The new sensation added to the maddening haze.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined, your body stiffening in anticipation.

“Cum,” his command was firm, “cum for me, my pretty little slut.”

The release was instantaneous, arousal flooded your system and your entire body quaked with pleasure. You almost saw white with that release. Your body heaved with a singular motion, crashing down into the bed. But Jaehyun didn’t let you rest; he was quick to replace his fingers with the vibrating dildo that he had chosen previously. A gasp escaped your lips, feeling yourself stretch around the foreign object. He turned it out and began pumping it into you. He ignored your pleas, revelling in the dishevelled sight of you. Office drone turned into a moaning mess. A twisted pleasure coursed through your body, a tinge of pain from sensitivity mixed with the dildo drilling into your g-spot. You begged him to stop, he didn��t. Your body buckled under the overstimulation; you were sure you were going to die if he didn’t stop.

You caught a glimpse of his wicked smirk, taking pride in his work.

Then, you fell from the cusp of your pleasure. A stream of clear liquid squirted from between your legs and onto Jaehyun’s face. Your eyes widened when you came to it, the first time that you had ever squirted. The pink flush on your cheeks reddened with more embarrassment. But before you had the time to apologise and explain that you didn’t intend on squirting all over him, he spoke first.

“Look at you, squirting all over me,” Jaehyun said, discarding the dildo, “I barely did anything, you know.”

His velvety voice sent shivers down your spine. Your humiliation grew under the weight of his words, and the truth of the situation. He was a stranger that you’ve barely met, and here you were cumming so easily at his every touch. His eyes, filled with great desire, burned into yours, and that thrill you felt under his gaze only further cemented the truth. You were acting like a complete slut for him.

You watched as he removed his jeans, then boxers. The sight of his member had your mouth salivating over it. You didn’t know you were such a slut. You could feel the growing heat between your legs as your mind conjured up images of his dick drilling into you. A foreign desire to just let him devour you arose. A strange impatience took over your mind whilst watching him slip on a condom.

“Why?” he crawled back on the bed, hovering over your body, “Like what you see?”

He didn’t wait for your reply, instead choosing to immediately thrust into you. A loud gasp escaped your throat. He felt bigger than you’d imagined. You were sure that he would split your body in half if he was any bigger and was grateful that he gave you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled. He adjusted himself, with one hand holding on to the bedframe for balance, and the other rested around your neck.

“Stop giving me such erotic looks, whore,” a twisted grin spread across his handsome face, “it only makes me want to mess you up even more.”

His hips moved with practiced ease, each thrust deep and impactful and drew out loud gasps from you. He started rocking his hips quicker and sloppier, his hand tightening along the sides of your neck. You’ve never been choked before, but that new stimulation drove you crazy. The slight almost-drunk dizziness from the asphyxiation only intensified every one of Jaehyun’s thrust.

“Oh?” he panted out with amusement, “You like getting choked, don’t you?”

He watched as your eyes rolled back and how your face scrunched with pleasure under his touch. The constant stream of melody that was your voice devolved from words and pleas into incoherent mewls and moans.

“You’re squeezing me so tight. Expected nothing less from my favourite slut.”

His hips moved with increasing impatience, as the both of you chased the highs of an orgasm. His grip on your neck only tightened, drawing small crescents into your skin. He grunted and groaned with less of the control he seemed to have.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he said and you doubted, with what little sanity remained within you.

Your hair was completely messed up, from your constant squirming. The baby hair along your hairline had been stuck on your face with your sweat. You’re pretty certain your make-up - just a touch of eyeliner and nude lipstick - had all been smudged by sweat and tears. If anything, you’re sure you looked like a messed-up whore.

Still, Jaehyun leaned down and connected your lips with fervour. His warm tongue darted quickly between your lips and danced with yours, sucking and twirling your tongue. His thrusts didn’t slow down, and instead continuously rammed into your sweet little spot.

At this moment, you were completely intoxicated by his touches. He studied you well though, knowing that you were on the edge of your orgasm.

“Aw, are you about to cum?” he said with mocking sympathy, “You’re gonna cum on a stranger’s dick?”

You felt your ears turn red at his questions. The shame and guilt all twisting into a strange pleasure. You weren’t used to this, but you craved it more.

“I’ll allow it,” he said, “you look so pretty cumming. Cum for me, slut.”

There’s a disconnect between his words, a sort-of whiplash. One moment he called you pretty, another he was completely condescending. And yet, you liked it. You liked being his little slut. You liked looking pretty for him. And most of all, you liked obeying him.

That desire to obey, however, fell short of Jaehyun’s expectations. A twisted anger filling his eyes as his hand punished your neck with an even tighter grip - you were barely gasping for air at this point.

“I said, cum for me,” he growled before spitting in your face.

The warm spit against your cheek swirled with the hypnotising haze of being choked and gave you the push you need to slip into a mindblowing orgasm. Your entire body spasmed in pleasure as desperate moans left your lips. Your toes curled tight, and your fingers scratched the bedpost. The orgasm lasted a solid a few seconds, but the waves of oxytocin still washed over you as you basked in the afterglow, serving as minor orgasms.

But Jaehyun wasn’t a man of patience, especially not when you laid under him, completely writhing with pleasure with a look of complete daze. Your still-spasming core squeezed his dick tight and coupled with a few sloppy thrusts were enough to send him into an orgasm as well.

He moaned and stiffened, his orgasm translated into deep and impactful thrusts as he rode out his orgasm. Your body was at a complete subservience to his orgasm, with Jaehyun not caring about your verbal protests from the overstimulation nor the way your hips and legs were shaking.

It took him a few moments, before he came crashing down on the bed next to you panting. The lust-driven demon seemed to disappear at an instance as a sweet smile replaced his previous smirk.

“Satisfied?”

You nodded shyly. He helped you out of the makeshift knot, finally freeing you. Your wrists were left with red marks, to which he apologised with a dimpled smile.

“It’s fine,” you assured him, “I… liked it.”

After all, your wrists would be evidence of this experience.

Later on, he was quick to attend to your every need - bringing you water, tissues to clean up, and a fresh set of bathrobes - and insisted that you sleep in the room, at least until the sun was up, promising to not touch you unless you wanted him to. You almost let yourself be deluded into thinking that this was anything but professionalism from a staff of Hotel Paradise.

In the morning, before you left for home, Jaehyun parted with words that would haunt you for the week to come.

“I hope to see you again. I really do.”

#jaehyun smut #jaehyun #nct smut #nct #mine

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harmonysanreads · 8 months ago

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I'm not sure if requests are still open since it's early in the morning where I'm from and idk how our timezones work, please delete this if it isn't orz. If it isn't too much trouble, a dainsleif fic mayhaps 🙏😔? I miss him so much and he didn't come home this patch, can be a short drabble ^^.

Not sure if it's leaning on your "things in consideration" list, but the prompt can be:

You've been under his radar for years but now that he's tracked you down, an unknown child who mirrors his blue Khaenriahn eyes guards you with his small and very fragile life. Those eyes... They're eerily familiar.

(side note: Dain isn't the type who thinks children automatically have a heart of gold lolol. He's kinda a hater when it comes to children cept for Yaoyao /jjjj, maybe that's some extra spice to add for the reason why reader is so terrified and left as soon as she had the opportunity?)

Reconteur

yandere!dainsleif x reader

cw(s) : yandere, implied female reader (the narrative is not gender specific but the word 'mother' has been used once)

wc : 1.7 k

this was an interesting challenge for me because this is one theme i've not done before, with a character i've also never written for! i'm extremely sorry for the wait as i got distracted by hsr :') and thank you so much for requesting<3

a delightful illustration by the loveliest person <3 (spoiler alert!)

Stories are truly spectacular.

They're capable of preserving bygone memories ; changing, adapting and sometimes, becoming far too distant from reality. Like saplings of the tree which extends its roots throughout Teyvat and, their seeds are welcomed by the flighty wind, soon to be cultivated by the torrents of time. The present will one day become history and that history will be archived for posterity to learn and criticize. One such story inspires much intrigue, dressed in charming rhetoric and is thus cataloged among fairy tales : a bittersweet tale of a Knight and an Angel.

And in classic format it goes — once upon a time, a defiled Knight cried out to the heavens, for he could not win against the temptation of seeing the forbidden pearl. This blatant defiance earned him but a curse of eternal agony and soon, he begged the skies for salvation. The clouds softened and sent him a little Angel, who quelled the fires of his pain bit by bit, until it became an infinitesimal dot in the Knight's soul. Brimming with gratitude, the Knight offered his very being to the Angel's service and of course, they lived happily ever after.

Now suppose, fundamentally speaking, if fairy tales are but stories and the retelling of history follows the same pattern — who are the storytellers?

The victors, of course.

The dull thud of pages colliding shut assuages Dainsleif, for the story which now finds itself beside children's bedside tables serves no other purpose than to instigate dulcet fantasies, losing credence before the trials of history. It brews a litany of feelings in his numbed heart until they intertwine and transform into a yarn of befuddling human emotions ; echoing in his ears that this is what his past has become.

Albeit, this hardly astonishes the Bough Keeper. When a war ends and the winners hoist their flags, they'd obviously be privy to recounting their glories — none of them would ever write that the Knight in the story had never begged the heavens for forgiveness and no such Angel was sent. Instead, he'd seen fit to snatch the Messenger that'd implored him to return to his right mind and one would think that Celestia had taken great offense in this act, but no one batted an eye.

That is because the Messenger, too, was forsaken by their home, a fallen angel with no wings and no divinity left. Whose existence became synonymous to that of a firefly and the Knight, became the darkness that allowed it to glow. When two broken individuals unite, they either complete their flaws or destroy one another and sadly, in his case, it was the latter.

But is it such a sin to wish for a normal life? Dainsleif muses as he passes by giggling groups of unassuming humans, desperate vendors trying to sell their wares and many more individuals who might carve their places in the next epics of Teyvat. Often is it said, you only learn to value things after they leave your grasp and while his memory does erode day by day, he'll forever remember that Angel's — your countenance, how the corners of your lips used to curve before they did no longer, how every word of yours bewitched his decaying mind and built it anew.

He was an ant chasing after the fragrance of sugar, a mindless bug blinded by a speck of light, an apophyte clinging desperately to the bough, a sinner. And sinners do not deserve luxuries called normalcy, love or a home. The aftereffects of the Cataclysm that befell his homeland drove uncountable masses to nihility, some embraced their hatred while others rotted in corners of this world. It is testament to Dainsleif's willpower that he'd not been conquered by insanity yet. Indeed, he's always practiced rationale and patience ; which have also aided him in his prolonged search for you.

He investigated till every rock of this wretched world became his acquaintance and he kept on hanging to the last traces of your existence. But, as every expedition led to a dead end, he was forced to accept a lamentable realization, that he missed you. He missed you so much. He'd vowed to never kneel before those who took everything from him, at this point in his life though, he found himself one breath away from begging that floating island — if only it'd bring you back to his side.

Rain. It'd rained before that catastrophic day and on the eve you trespassed in his life as well. Would you laugh if you saw him in this state? Or, would you coax him up from his knees and shield him from the rain? A hoarse chuckle leaves his lips, how shameless does one need to be to still expect comfort from the being they hurt repeatedly? He'd rather not hear the answer.

“Mister?”

The sky growled at his misery but he could not differentiate it from a mocking sneer. He blinked upon feeling the absence of raindrops falling on his person and raised his head to stare.

It is as though the stars gazed at him back, “Why are you kneeling on the ground on a rainy day, mister?”

Dainsleif stared owlishly, his mind momentarily ceased to comprehend the present. The boy that'd reach his knees at most if Dainsleif had been standing returned his gaze in equal interest. Though the man failed to decipher those familiar eyes, it seemed that the boy had reached a conclusion.

“Oh, you must be in pain! Here, take one of my apples.”

The Bough Keeper jolted at the fruit that was shoved to his hand, in the blur of his confusion he'd not taken note of the bag full of apples clutched by the boy's other hand.

“My mother said that an apple a day would keep the pain away—ah, or was it the doctor? Anyway, please take it and don't look so sad. I should really be returning now…!”

Dainsleif opened his mouth (To protest, to question or to thank? He didn't know.) as the boy dashed away, the pitter-patters of the rain lulled his footsteps and left the man a great deal dumbfounded. He looked at the apple, now glistening with rainwater and recalled the boy's words. On normal occasions, he'd be tempted to immediately evacuate the vicinity after that mildly embarrassing encounter but, the memory of the starry gaze that rendered him speechless implored him to follow the boy's tracks.

At this point, his mind was operating on instinct, tracing the footprints of an unknown child without purpose would be the farthest thing he'd put on his agenda in his current state. The dense forest swallowed his form until it finally gifted him with a clearing, a small source of light peeked past a half open window and enticed him closer.

“...re…were…y…?”

The man only came to his senses after hearing muffled voices, standing before what he assumed was the door to the thatched cottage. For a second, he debated whether to continue this rendezvous but resigning that he'd come too far, he decided to take a peek through the window.

The rain lulled just enough to not be an outright nuisance, succinct yet unforgettable — there you were, separated by but a weak wooden structure and Dainsleif's stupefied mind. You are there. Are you really there? Right before his eyes, emerging out of nowhere after he turned Teyvat upside down just to find some reassurance that you're still alive? Your eyes narrowed in that familiar frown and rubbing a towel through a boy's hair—

Wait, what?

Fine strands of blonde clung to Dainsleif's forehead, a few drops of water dripping down to join the small puddle under his feet. He gaped like a fish at the scene and at the boy who led him to this epiphany, completely forgetting vigilance.

“Did you talk to anyone, son?”

Flowers bloomed in his heart at the sound of that familiar lilt and his breath hitched as he processed the contents you uttered. Son. You called that boy son. In the light of your humble abode, he noticed the boy's golden locks of hair that he'd previously foregone and a conclusion crawled its way to his mind. He has a child. He has a child? Dainsleif knew you have a knack for unpredictability but this level of surprise was not what he was expecting upon your first appearance after all these years. He dwelled on the question of how it was even possible for a while, he recalled the boy's eyes ; those characteristic star-shaped pupils would never lie. Voices reached his ear again and he decided to cast aside these questions for a later time.

“I did, but the man looked so sad all alone in the rain! So, I gave him one of the apples because I didn't know what else to do. I promise I didn't talk too much!”

You paused for a while, a cautious query followed, “What did he look like?”

The boy copied your silence this time, finding great interest in your nails before exclaiming, “Pretty ordinary!”

Dainsleif didn't know why but that gave a sting to his heart, he looked back to you to see the unreadable expression on your face slowly shift to a soft smile. You affectionately ruffled the boy—his boy's hair, the action somehow softened the ache in his soul. Until he remembered that he was ignorant of his own son's name. He was one who preferred to form his opinion of everyone from a neutral point of view and while he's not one to excuse children's behavior just because of their age, seeing his own son speak half-truths at this stage raised many more concerns to be dropped in the pile.

You're not someone who'd preach dishonesty to a child but considering the situation you are currently in and the things this child must've seen, he found himself understanding. The skies rumbled and Dainsleif barely pushed back the urge to kick down the door and take his family to where they belonged. But seeing the smile that he'd yearned for so many years, he hesitated. You'd fought hard to earn this little happiness and acting on his impulses now, however justified they might be, would be dishonoring your efforts. And judging by your reactions, he can already sense that you won't just sit idly by for him to pounce on.

So, he'll be patient for bit longer and when the time is right, it'll seem as though his family returned to his arms out of their own volition.

#requests: batch two #answered #beloved-brynn #yandere dainsleif #yandere dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #something in my heart tells me that dain gives off girl-dad vibes #buuuut since you mentioned it #tbh dain is so real for that opinion like.. have you seen children these days 💀

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