#i'm grateful whenever you do that but i don't want it to feel like a job for you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wholoveseggs · 3 months

Text

Small Victories

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} After a tourney in which Daemon places second, he seeks solace from his loss and finds it in his little northern maid.

♡♡ Hello darlings! I'm branching out slightly and writing about a new character {Don't worry, I'm still writing Elijah} xoxo ♡♡

5.3k words - Warnings: smutt, size!kink, rough sex, dom!daemon, slight choking, virgin!reader, northern!reader, servant!reader, pre-dance Daemon, huge power imbalance...

♡♡ Hey! I didn't tag anyone because I'm unsure if you want to read Daemon content. If you wish to be tagged in future Daemon let me know ♡♡

You didn't like the Red Keep, it was too grand for your liking. Even with all of the people in it you still felt alone. At night, you could hear voices echoing throughout the halls, sometimes they were singing or laughing and other times they were screaming or moaning.

You could never tell where the sounds were coming from, it gave the place an odd feeling of being haunted. Ghosts weren't something you put your faith in, but that didn't stop the hair from standing up on the back of your neck whenever you heard a strange sound.

If it was up to you, you wouldn't live here. You would be back in the little cottage you grew up in, far into the north and as far away from King's landing as you could possibly be. It was a funny contradiction, that such a grand place in a warm environment could feel so cold, while a small house in the cold north could feel so full of warmth.

The last thing your mother said to you, was that you should be grateful. That your place in the Red Keep was the highest honor your family could ever hope to receive, and that you should do anything to stay here. To be a lady's maid to the queen, was the highest achievement a low born could achieve.

You tried to be, even though your heart yearned for the snowy landscape of your childhood. You wanted to be happy, you were thankful, but you couldn't help the way you missed the north.

So to try and capture just a bit of personal freedom, you would walk the halls at night. It was the only time you could pretend to be somewhere else, even if it was only for a moment. You would close your eyes and imagine yourself somewhere new and exciting, and when you opened them you would be reminded of where you really were.

Tonight you were in a particularly adventurous mood, there was a tourney the next day for Prince Viserys and his wife Aemma to celebrate their wedding. The Red Keep would be full of guests and it would be loud and full of life, you were sure to be very busy, and so you decided to stay up late and postpone sleep for a few more hours.

There was a room in the library that had a view of the city, one you liked to frequent often. It had a large window and a balcony that was rarely used. It was a nice place to go to clear your mind and think about home.

When you entered, nobody was around except for a cat that was perched on the windowsill. She was a lovely thing with black fur and bright green eyes, the perfect color of a dark forest at night.

"Hello, beautiful." You greeted her with a smile and a light stroke along her back. You looked out the window with her at your side, watching the moon reflect off the ocean and the waves crashing against the shore.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on a man with a face that made you stand up straight and bow your head.

"Prince Daemon." You greeted him, not looking up from the floor.

"Young maidens like yourself shouldn't be out so late." He said, stepping closer to you. You didn't dare move or even breathe, his presence made you feel like you were caught doing something wrong.

"I couldn't sleep, my lord," You answered, not meeting his eyes. This was your first real meeting with the prince, but you knew the rumors that surrounded him.

He didn't respond to your answer, instead, he turned his attention towards the view. Leaning against the window, his posture was dismissive, as though you weren't there. He gave you a side glance that read, 'leave,' and so you did, not wanting to get in his way.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude." You said, walking past him, heading towards the doorway.

"You are from the north," he spoke, still looking out into the water.

"Yes, my lord," You answered, stopping when he started speaking.

"How did you find yourself as a maid in the south?" He asked, looking at you, his eyes piercing through you.

The truth of the matter made you feel shameful, even though it was beyond your control. So you decided to tell him what you've been telling everyone.

"I was given as a gift for our new queen," You said, looking down at the floor.

"Is that what they call it?" Daemon laughed, his laugh was as harsh as his voice, the kind of laugh that could cut you open if you let it. "I heard you were given away as payment for a debt."

Your cheeks reddened and you looked at the ground, your throat closing up at the mention of your family's failure. Pride wasn't something you could afford anymore, but you couldn't stop the words that came out of your mouth.

"I didn't realize that princes were so fond of gossip." You said, meeting his eyes, your words were meant to cut, and they did.

He stood up straight, his expression unreadable as he closed the distance between the two of you, towering over you.

"Ahh, so they did sell you." He smirked, looking down at you. "Whoring can make you better coin… recover a debt quicker."

Your hands balled up into fists and you took a step closer, a defiant glare on your face.

He chuckled and tilted his head, he reached out and touched your chin, his hand was soft but firm as he turned your face to look at him.

"With a pretty face like yours, I'm sure you would make quite a bit of coin," His voice was a purr, a seductive growl that made your insides feel tight. "I could show you a better use for those lips."

His words were shockingly vulgar, his voice was rough and commanding and his eyes were hungry, but you didn't move away, you stayed still. You knew the dragon prince was a scandalous man, but you didn't think he would ever be so bold.

"There is no honor in a whore's coin." You answered, pushing his hand away from your face.

"Is there honor in emptying the queen's chamber pot?" He retorted, grinning slightly at how red your cheeks had become.

"Not all of us have the opportunity to choose what sort of honor we can acquire,” You said, standing your ground as best as you could.

He towered over you, his tall frame casting a shadow that almost completely covered you. He wasn't like the king or queen, who were kind and generous. There was something dark and malicious about him, as though the great beasts of his house lurked just below his skin, waiting to come out.

"You have a smart mouth, little northerner." He mused, his eyes drifting down to your lips. "It's a wonder that the queen has not put a gag in it."

"It's a poor quality I have yet to overcome." You responded, pulling away from him and putting some distance between the two of you.

He watched you move away, his eyes following your movements and the shape of your body, making you feel hot.

"I will think of you when I win the tourney tomorrow." He said, his tone smug and confident. "A sweet northern flower to bring back with me."

"You will be bringing back nothing, prince Daemon." You said, your voice a warning.

He laughed and looked at you, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"We'll see about that."

And with those final words, he left the room. You felt flustered and annoyed, a strange mixture of feelings that confused and angered you. You didn't like the prince, but he made your heart race, his voice and his eyes made you feel a strange sense of heat.

You wanted to be disgusted, and yet all you could think about was seeing him again.

It was a hectic morning, with all the knights and guests arriving, and you were late. Your tardiness had earned you a sharp reprimand from your head maid, but you were too distracted by the upcoming event to care.

The prospect of seeing the prince again was something you weren't sure you wanted, but couldn't stop thinking about.

You didn't like the way his eyes lingered on you, or how he made you feel things that shouldn't be felt. The rogue prince was indeed a fitting title, he was a scoundrel and a liar, a man of dishonor.

You thought that maybe he was the sort of person that the south created, perhaps they took people like you and turned them into someone like him. But then again, he wasn't really a southerner, no, he was a dragon.

The sound of cheers and laughter outside made your ears perk up. The queen was already seated with the other royals in their viewing box, and you were in a nearby tent, preparing more wine and food.

The tourney had just begun, and so far the knights had all performed well. You had only been paying a bit of attention, trying to do your job and keep out of the way.

The head maid was a cruel, vindictive woman, and she had been taking out her frustration on you all day. Her temper was short and her hands were rough, she was the kind of woman that would slap your hands or pull your hair if she was upset. But today she decided to simply make your life miserable with her words.

She gave you the worst jobs and the heaviest items to carry, and when she did allow you to stand and rest, she would hit your feet with her broom and tell you to get back to work.

"Once you are finished pouring wine, I want you to go to the prince's tent and serve him." She ordered, her eyes were sharp and her words were harsh.

"The prince has a squire to serve him." You protested, the idea of facing Daemon again made your cheeks turn red.

"The prince requested a woman's company,” She smiled, her eyes looking at you with an almost wicked satisfaction.

"I believe what the prince is looking for can be found on the street of silk, not among the ladies maids." You countered, hoping to change her mind.

"It's an honor to serve the prince, and he has specifically asked for a northern girl." The head maid was adamant, not willing to let this go.

You clenched your jaw and took a deep breath, biting your tongue as you looked at the floor.

"Very well, madam."

You held back tears as you climbed the stairs to the viewing box, pouring wine into the cups. Keeping your eyes low and only lifting them when absolutely necessary as you made your way down the line of royals.

Everyone began to stir and chat as the final round was announced. You turned to face the arena, watching as the prince mounted his horse, the sight of him made your heart flutter.

He was a handsome man, there was no denying that, his long blonde hair was braided and tied back, and his purple eyes were focused and determined.

His horse was a massive stallion, black as night, and he rode him as though they were one. He moved with a grace and confidence that was captivating.

The final round began, the two men charging at each other. You were nervous and excited, not knowing what to expect.

The clash of steel was the only sound in the air, it echoed throughout the entire arena. The crowd was silent, their eyes locked on the scene before them.

The two men passed each other, once, twice, three times. The tension building with each near miss, until finally the two knights clashed again.

Daemon's opponent had a slight edge over him, being bigger and stronger, but Daemon was quicker. But on the fourth pass, his opponent managed to catch him off guard, sending him flying into the dirt.

The crowd gasped, their hands covering their mouths as the prince's horse bucked and ran, leaving him in the dust.

You winced at the sight, it wasn't a good fall. He landed on his back, hard, and he lay still for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he caught his breath.

Only when the head maid cleared her throat did you realize you had been holding your breath.

"You are needed in the prince's tent, girl." she commanded, grabbing the jug from your hands and giving you a stern look.

You nodded, taking the tray of food and wine from the table and heading out of the box. Your heart was racing and your palms were sweaty, the thought of seeing Daemon after such a public humiliation was not something you were looking forward to.

The air was alive with the roar of the people, and the thumping of their feet sounded like thunder. They were chanting for the champion, something that would surely upset Daemon even more.

When you got to his tent, you hesitated, taking a moment to calm your nerves. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the noise of the crowd fade away.

You stepped inside, finding him sitting in a chair, his shirt was off and his squire was cleaning a nasty gash on his arm.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Prince Daemon." You said, placing the tray of food on the table and pouring a cup of wine.

"Leave," he barked at his squire, his voice was gruff and his jaw was clenched.

"But my prince-" his squire protested, looking up from the wound he was treating.

"Now."

The boy left quickly, leaving you alone with the brooding prince.

"Would you like some wine, my lord?" You asked, your voice soft and timid, the last thing you wanted was to make him even more upset.

"No," he hissed, his voice sharp as a knife. "Bring me a new shirt."

You did as he asked, walking over to the large chest in the corner. It was full of clothes, the colors and fabrics were fine and beautiful. You selected a clean white shirt and brought it over to him, your eyes focused on the ground.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice was quiet, but it was a demand, not a request.

You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze. His eyes were cold, the same shade of violet that had captivated you was now a glare.

You did very well, my lord," You tried to reassure him, your voice soft and comforting.

"Is that meant to be comforting?" He asked, his tone was harsh and his expression was a scowl.

"Fine. I have never seen a worse display than the one you put on today," you said, the words slipping from your mouth before you could stop them.

He smiled, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as his amusement grew. Only his brother the king would ever talk to him this way, and here you were, a young low born northerner, mocking him. He didn't know why he enjoyed it coming from you, perhaps it was because your words meant nothing. You were no one, and he was the prince, and yet he found himself intrigued.

"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" He chuckled, the sound was hollow, not at all humorous.

"It was humiliating," you answered, the words escaping before you could stop them.

"Careful," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "You're lucky I find your insolence amusing."

"I thought it was why you had asked for me," you retorted, setting the shirt on the table and taking a step back.

He stood up from the chair, closing the space between the two of you. The air was thick with tension, his eyes boring into yours, his face was inches from yours.

"I didn't lose the tourney," he stated, his voice a low growl.

"You didn't win either," you countered, your cheeks flushed red, your heart racing in your chest.

He smiled, the gesture was almost predatory, he reached out and grabbed your face, his hands were rough and his grip was tight.

"You are quite the mouthy little wench," his words were a harsh whisper, his breath hot against your skin.

You didn't answer, afraid of what he would do if you spoke. He seemed to be enjoying himself, his eyes dancing with amusement as he stared at you.

"On your knees," he ordered, his tone demanding.

"My lord, I-" you protested, trying to pull away.

"Kneel," his voice was louder this time, and you knew that he was not going to repeat himself.

You hesitated for a moment, but he was the prince, and you couldn't disobey him. So you lowered yourself onto your knees, looking up at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do next.

"Is it true that northern girls can take a cock better than southern ones?" He asked, his hand still holding onto your chin.

You didn't know how to respond, his words making your cheeks burn. You could only stare at him, your mind reeling as you tried to figure out what he wanted.

He smiled, and the look in his eyes made your heart race. "Open your mouth, little northerner."

You did as he commanded, your eyes never leaving his. He pushed his thumb past your lips and slowly pressed down onto your tongue, rubbing it in circles before slowly dragging it out.

Your lips parted and your breathing became heavier as he traced his wet thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes fixated on the movement.

"Beautiful." He whispered before sliding his thumb back into your mouth, pushing it all the way into your throat, causing you to gag.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth and wiped the spit off on your cheek before grabbing you by the arms and lifting you up, turning you around and pushing you face first into the table.

"My lord," you gasped, struggling against his strong grip.

Daemon laughed at the look of shock on your face, his cock growing harder at the sight. "See? I knew you would make a great whore," he smirked, his words bringing a flush to your face.

He pulled your dress up, exposing your ass and legs. His hands were rough as he groped you, squeezing your thighs and your cheeks.

You pushed against him, trying to free yourself, but his grip was too strong. He pushed your thighs apart, his hand trailing up to your cunt, his fingers stroking your entrance, teasing you.

He softened at your defiance, a smirk crossing his lips. "I enjoy you, little northerner. Perhaps I should keep you," he mused.

He slid his finger into your cunt, his touch gentle and slow. You whimpered, pushing against him again.

"You would be my little northern flower," he murmured, his finger moving in and out of your cunt, the pace becoming quicker. "A blue rose in my garden."

You were ashamed of how aroused you were, the prince's touch was intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hips against his hand. You had never been with a man before and the pleasure he was giving you was beyond anything you had ever felt.

He slid another finger inside of you, his movements quick and rough. You moaned, biting your lip as you felt yourself getting closer to release.

He suddenly pulled away, the sudden absence of his touch made you whimper. He spun you around, knocking objects off the table and pinning you against it. Your hands went to his chest, pushing him back, but his grip was too strong, his eyes filled with lust.

"You're a feisty one," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands gripping your ass, lifting you up and pressing you against his hips. "I guess it's true that the fires always burn hotter in the north,"

You shivered as he sucked and bit at the skin on your neck, his teeth scraping across your sensitive flesh, leaving red marks behind. You couldn't help but moan, the feeling was so intense, and the sounds were so sinful.

"My prince... I..." You stuttered, trying to find the words, but he cut you off with a kiss.

The feel of his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his cock hard against you, was intoxicating. You had never felt this way before, this desire, this want. He made you feel like you were drowning in the fire of his touch. He was a dragon, and he would take what he wanted.

You couldn't resist, you gave in, kissing him back, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He smelled of blood, dirt and sweat, a combination that shouldn't have been appealing, but was.

You could taste his lust on your lips, and it made you hungry for more. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing yourself closer to him, and he moaned, the sound rumbling in his chest. He was so much larger than you, so much stronger, and you felt so small in his arms.

His hand trailed down your chest, slowly untying the strings that held up your dress, his fingers tracing over the fabric, teasing you.

"Sweet little northern girl," he teased, his voice a low growl. "Are you going to give yourself to me?"

"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed pink.

He kissed you again, his lips rough and demanding, his hand pushing your dress down, exposing your breasts. "You've never touched yourself before, have you?”

"No, my Prince," you whispered, your little hands curled into his chest, your nails digging into his skin.

"That's alright, I'll show you how it's done."

His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers trailing up, his touch light and teasing. You let out a gasp as his fingers brushed over your cunt, touching a spot that made your body tremble.

"This little spot right here," he said, rubbing his thumb against it, "is the most sensitive part of your body. The more pressure, the better."

You nodded, gasping and moaning as he pressed his thumb against it, circling it. You could feel the heat rising within you, the pleasure building.

"Feels good doesn't it?" He whispered, his voice husky, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Y-yes," you stuttered, your hips moving, grinding against his hand.

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

"Do you like being my little whore, hmm?" He asked, his lips trailing down your neck, his kisses hot and wet.

"N-no," you moaned, pushing him back, trying to fight against him.

He laughed, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. "Liar," he whispered, his tongue licking over the marks he'd made.

His hands reaching down to his waist, undoing his breeches and pulling them off, his cock springing free. You gasped, your eyes wide as you took in the size of him.

He took your hand and placed it on his cock, his eyes burning into yours. "Go on, feel it," he whispered.

Your fingers curled around his cock, your small hand barely able to fit around him. You moved your hand, sliding it down the length of his shaft, his cock thick and pulsing in your hand. His skin was so warm and smooth, his breathing deepening as you began to move your hand up and down, stroking him slowly.

You could see the scars from battle stretched across his chest and torso. Small claw-like marks around his pectoral and a deep line that stretched down the left side of his rib cage. He was a hardened warrior, and you could tell by his scars, he had been through much to get where he was now.

You squeezed his cock, moving your hand up and down, his breathing deepening and his eyes growing hazy. He watched you, his gaze following every movement you made. You were starting to get more comfortable, taking pleasure in watching him, in making him feel good. You found the nerve to press the pad of your thumb against the tip, feeling the moisture leaking from him.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.

You felt a wave of pride, knowing that you were pleasing him, that he liked the way you were touching him. You continued to stroke him, squeezing and pulling at his cock, watching his face, seeing the pleasure on his features.

He groaned, his eyes closing and his head tilting back, his breath catching. You could feel his cock throbbing in your hand, and you knew that he was getting close.

He let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. "If you keep that up, I'm going to spill my seed all over this pretty little dress of yours," he said, his eyes full of heat.

"Is that so, my lord?" You asked, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you under him, his body caging you, trapping you beneath him. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his cock hard and resting on your stomach. His eyes burned into yours, his gaze intense, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.

You weren't talking back anymore, he could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitance, and that only made him want you more. His hand went to your throat, applying gentle pressure, a silent warning.

He could feel you trembling beneath him, and he tightened his grip, a primal, possessive urge rising within him. Your small hands pushing into his chest, clutching at his heated flesh.

"Open for me," he growled, his eyes fixed on yours.

You parted your thighs, allowing him to press closer to you. He growled, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist, his cock brushing against your cunt. He felt you tighten, your eyes widening with trepidation.

He chuckled, loving how terrified and eager you were at the same time. He gave you a moment, and then he slowly pushed into you. You whimpered, your nails digging into his back, your eyes closed, your face twisted in pain.

"Breathe," he said, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, "it will hurt for a just moment and then I will make you feel good,"

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you felt his cock hit your maidenhead.

"Are you ready, little northerner?" He whispered.

You gripped his forearms and nodded.

He pushed in slowly, breaking through your barrier. You cried out, the pain was intense and immediate. He groaned, the feel of your tight cunt was intoxicating.

He stayed still, giving you time to adjust. Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches in his flesh.

"Such a pretty, tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your neck.

You kept your eyes closed, trying to focus on his words and not the pain. He began to move with slow, deep strokes, his cock stretching you, filling you. He was bigger than he felt in your hands, and you swore you could feel him everywhere.

He moaned, his hips rocking into you, his hand still on your throat, making you feel lightheaded. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. You felt so full of him, stretched open, the pain and pleasure mixing into one.

He watched your reaction with a smirk, amused by your shocked, satisfied expression. He was moving slowly, enjoying your warmth and the feel of your cunt clenching around him. He knew you were enjoying it, too, your eyes half-closed, a soft moan escaping your lip. Your small frame was arched to his body, your hands holding on to his neck.

You were surprised at his gentleness. You'd heard that the dragon prince liked to rough up women, but he was being as careful as if you were made of spun sugar. You felt so small and helpless underneath him, his large body nearly engulfing yours, and yet he wasn't hurting you. His touch was delicate, reverent. The way he spoke to you, calling you pet names, made your heart skip a beat.

You arched against him, a soft cry leaving your lips as his strokes got faster, deeper, hitting a place inside you that sent a sharp, hot pleasure through you.

"Does my little northerner like her prince's cock?" He said, a laugh in his voice, he began to pick up the pace, pounding into you.

You squeaked and pushed on his chest, the sensations becoming too much. He grabbed your hips and held you still, fucking you hard and fast, his eyes full of fire.

You felt your release rising up inside you, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter. You could feel yourself clamping down on his cock, the pleasure almost too much, the sweet pain sending you over the edge.

He groaned at the sight of you coming undone, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you shattered around him. He could feel the tension in your muscles as your climax tore through you. He slowed his movements, easing out the last waves of pleasure, drawing it out until you were a shuddering, moaning mess.

He was close behind, his thrusts erratic, his breathing harsh. He pulled out and spilled his seed across your stomach, his hips bucking. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a contented sigh leaving his lips. At least he had one victory today.

Your face was hot with shame, your mind unable to comprehend what just happened. The prince's seed was cooling on your stomach and chest, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Your hands went to your face, covering it as tears came to your eyes, you had never felt so good and so embarrassed at once.

He moved off of you, his eyes locked on yours, a smirk crossing his lips. He looked satisfied, his gaze wandering over your body, lingering on the wetness between your legs, the mess he'd made of you. He tossed you a cloth to clean yourself with. You wiped his seed off your skin, watching him dress, his blonde hair still braided back, his purple eyes full of lust and desire. He was a warrior, a dragon, he was beauty and strength, power and masculinity. He was everything you wanted and feared, a beast who could destroy you.

He gave you a side glance, his eyes full of amusement. "You may go," he said, shooing you away with a hand.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as you took a shaky breath. You stood up, gathering the pieces of your dress and your underclothes. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt weak, sore, and full of shame.

"Yes, my prince," you said quietly, looking at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

He chuckled, the sound of his voice making you shiver. "Don't be so timid, little northerner. This is the beginning, not the end," he said, his words sending a jolt of fear and excitement through you.

He was right, this was only the beginning. You were his servant, and he could do with you as he pleased. He would have you come to him whenever he chose, on the warmest summer nights and the coldest winter days. He would take what he wanted, when he wanted.

He was a dragon, and his will was as strong as his blood.

And deep down, you knew you would enjoy it. He was the perfect thing to distract you from the mundanity of your life, the endless monotony of serving others.

Perhaps the Red Keep wouldn't be so terrible, not if it meant serving him.

1K notes · View notes

chuluoyi · 11 months

Text

✎ attraction

- gojo satoru x reader

to think it started with your crush on his best friend...

genre: high school!gojo being a menace, jealous!gojo but he doesn’t realize it? enemies to lovers, fluff, gojo begins pining on you

note: thank you anon who asks for gojo falling in love with a first year! i added some spice though haha

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Back in 2006—

There was this tiny weeny part of Gojo that was like... questioning, how did his best friend Geto Suguru catch your eye, whereas he didn’t? Like, at all?

"I want Geto."

"Hah?" Gojo arched a righteous brow, swiftly turning your way—feeling the stings of irritation gnawing at him. "What?"

You shot him a look. “I said, you suck and I’m lamenting that I’m paired with you instead of Geto for this mission.”

Once upon a time, you did hate him for obvious reasons as other people do. He was obnoxious, boastful and overall grating on your nerves.

Well, actually, “hate” would be too strong of a word, so probably “dislike greatly” it is.

“Ehh, Suguru? With you?” Gojo glanced at you, purposefully scrunching his face into a mocking sneer. “No way. Absolutely not. Incompatible. I won’t give him my blessings.”

“Who are you to grant blessings?” you hissed with a bulging vein of frustration. “And no, it's not what you think! I—” you wanted to kick yourself for stumbling over your words, “—I just respect him in a way an underclassman would!”

Gojo let out a strained laugh.

To him, you were this cute little junior who looked funny when mad. Riling you up was on his daily to-do list, and poking fun at your obvious crush on his best friend was supposed to double the fun, until it made him wonder despite himself... just what exactly did Suguru have that he apparently lacked, leading you to always follow him with your eyes, whereas you spared him with nothing but glares and sharp retorts?

You didn’t exactly hide your feelings. Whenever Geto was nearby or greeted you in the mornings, you'd blush like a tomato. It was silly, because Gojo was sure his best friend’s type wasn’t a girl as skittish as you—surely, it must be someone as vivacious as Inoue Waka.

He knew you were doomed to fail.

"I suggest you go pick up some slack," he teased. "Better if you don't become a dead weight while assisting him in missions, no?"

He knows. Really.

"...do you know that there are only three things I can't stand here?"

"And those are?"

But...

"Your stupid glasses, your Limitless—and you."

He was still irked, regardless.

"Well, poor you, then," he shrugged, shit-eating grin on his face. This time he pushed his luck. "Do you know that you're nowhere nearing Suguru's type?"

Scratch that. You hate him. You turned to him with a reddened face, and it wasn't because you were blushing.

"I'm going by myself!" you declared, seething. "I couldn't care less about what you're about to do—I'm finishing this and going home!"

With that, you you marched towards the haunted house, paying no heed to his taunts behind you.

You felt a wave of embarrassment washing over. Gojo always messed with you and normally you would chalk it up as one of his shits—but this time, you didn't appreciate how he touched on that sore spot of your not-so-hidden infatuation with Geto. So what if you weren't his ideal type? He didn't have to be mean!

But soon you regretted leaving his side, as a monstrous cursed spirit quickly chased you out.

Gojo was still outside, bidding his time. He merely huffed when he heard you screaming in fear.

He was ready with a jab. "Well, well... Look who's running back into my arms—"

But his smirk quickly fell when he saw the cursed entity was apparently way beyond your level. You ran out—no, by some idiotic impulse of survival, you actually leapt out of the two-story window and almost fell flat on your face and broke your bones, but before then, he sprung to action, catching you, wrapping one arm on your waist.

You were grateful you that you weren't doomed—until you felt yourself dangling mid air in his hold... like a cat.

"Gojo!" you wailed. "I'm going to fa—!"

Oh, but Gojo was convinced that this was his moment to shine. He directed a smirk your way as the bright blue mass in his hand totally caught your attention. With one swift flick of his hand, he muttered the mantra for Blue, and exorcised the cursed spirit in one go.

He marveled at his own show of power—and hoping that somehow, you would too. Then, he placed his hand under your knees, repositioning you in a princess-carry, and the way your gentle curves nestled snugly in his arms sparked some intriguing thoughts in him.

Your wide, crystal-clear eyes gazed at him with such wonder. Red tinted your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved into a winning smile.

It was at that exact moment when he realized it: he wants you. This funny girl who often made his day, he wanted you to look at his way too.

...but goddamnit, you like Suguru.

"Well, not that scary now with me around, isn’t it?" he boldly announced, and your amazed expression immediately turned into a cute frown.

"Thanks," you blurted, still with rosy cheeks and looked frazzled, but then you realized the state you were in his arms. "But—put me down!"

"Ehhh, I will if your feet can reach the ground!"

Who cares if you like Suguru? As he burst into snickers and you screamed at his face, Gojo Satoru decided then and there—in that spring of 2006—that he would make it his mission to win you over. To make you his.

And years later, not only he achieved that but also so much more—a ring on your finger serving as the testament to his success.

Epilogue

"Yaga-sensei," Geto sighed wearily. "Can I be paired with Shoko, please?"

"Geto-san, wait, please—" you frantically tried to explain, glaring at Gojo in the process. "I'll do my best so—"

"You're such a bother, even Suguru doesn't want to go on missions with you," the white-haired clown remarked with an evil grin. "Right, Suguru?"

"No, Satoru—"

"Well, but if it's me, I'll gladly mentor and teach you though~"

"I don't want you! You're so insufferably annoying!"

"Yaga-sensei, can I please get paired with someone else—"

5K notes · View notes

laligraves · 4 months

Text

a wedding in june

cult leader!joel miller x virgin fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~3.2k summary: You run from Joel on your wedding day. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), some proofreading, post-outbreak, commune/cult vibes, arranged marriage, mentions of infected/gore/violence, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, some face slapping, loss of virginity (and some pain associated to that but only a few sentences), outdoors sex, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i promise i have other ideas rattling in my brain besides dubious consent 😭 i have a whole wip chart with tons of ideas that i hope i can write

You run faster at the sound of shouts behind you. Sweat drips down your temples and fear makes your heart beat erratically, but you don’t dare stop.

The outer gates are only a few more hundred feet away. All you need to do is get past the trees and you’ll be able to escape. You don’t have time to think about how this will be your first time venturing outside of the commune.

Everything you were taught about the outside, about the orphaned souls and monsters that lurk, none of that matters. Not when you’re more terrified at what your future will bring.

Joel Miller. The man who in just a few months, cleared away the hundreds of infected in the nearby valley. Joel, who in the commune’s monthly hunting trips, manages to find everything from venison to medication.

The times you’ve been close enough to Joel, to feel the heat emanating off his body, you can almost taste the violence that simmers beneath his skin. Instead of it scaring you, like it would any sane person, it excites you.

The longing in his gaze whenever he looks at you makes you dizzy. There’s a pulse of heat between your thighs each and every time, one that will only go away after you ride your pillow until exhaustion. Whenever you face him again, after you’ve dreamed of him taking you, you wonder if he knows what you do in the privacy of your room.

There’s no denying that he’s saved this commune from the brink of starvation. Of course everyone, including you, is grateful for the kindness of a stranger. But in the months he’s been here, their gratitude has turned into pure devotion.

Your parents practically pushed you into his arms the moment Joel asked about you. Normally quite level headed, your parents have begun to treat Joel like a God. You thought Joel would find their insistence of marriage off putting, that he would be an honorable man and let you choose your own path in this place.

You were wrong.

Your parents saw it as an honor that out of all the women in the commune, Joel chose you. The books and pretty dresses he finds on his trips are only a sign of how devoted a husband he will be, at least that’s what your mother tried to tell you.

And the times you tried to speak to Joel and get him to rethink this marriage? Don’t worry about it, pretty girl, was all he would say before he’d send you off.

You can imagine him in your bed and fantasize about him in your dreams, but to be his wife? Especially now that he’s been chosen to lead the commune—you want nothing to do with that.

A denser path to your right has you changing directions, wishing to throw them off your trail. You can still make it if you run through here.

Except it’s too late. Strong arms grab and push you into the lush grass.

“No,” you scream, “let me go!”

“What’s wrong with you,” Joel snaps, “don’t you know what’s out there?”

“I don’t care,” you scream out childishly, “I’d rather be out there than be with you!”

He climbs on top of you, grabbing your wrists in one hand and pressing them above your head into the grass. He leans on your thighs to keep you still and grabs your chin with the other hand.

“Listen to me,” he insists, “you don’t know what you’re sayin’. You know nothin’ of what life is like outside these walls.”

He digs his fingers into your cheeks and shakes your head slightly since you refuse to look at him.

“Joel, did you find her?” your father calls out from a distance.

“Yeah, I got ‘er.”

“Great, let’s go back and finish the celebration–”

“No,” Joel calls out.

“Joel–”

“Leave,” Joel interrupts.

He continues sitting on you, putting most of his weight on your trembling body. The white dress you're wearing, a satin piece that he found on their last hunting trip into the town, rides up dangerously close to your panties.

“I need to teach you a lesson in respect, wife,” Joel growls.

He stands and just when you think you can escape again, he yanks you up with him. Joel holds your arm tight with one hand while taking off his belt with the other. He spins you around and brings your wrists behind your back, using the belt to bind them together.

“You wanna see what’s out there? Since you think you’re so tough?” Joel asks, not waiting for an answer and instead dragging you to the gate. “I do everything to make this place safe for you, darlin’. But this is how you repay me? Runnin’ off at the first chance you get?”

You’re surprised at his words and the sincerity of his voice. He sounds almost… sad.

“Practically beggin’ to be out there with those fuckers instead of me?” he continues, “The only man who can truly protect you?”

You reach the gate and your heartbeat picks up again. You’ve never been out this far. In fact, you’re acres away from the actual commune. While the gates are secure and regularly enforced, you can’t help but feel truly terrified that something will grab you just outside these barriers.

“I’m sorry, Joel–”

He stops, spinning you around and landing a hard slap, slap, slap on your ass.

“You address me as sir.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you cry out, “I learned my lesson. Let’s–let’s go back.”

Joel ignores you, choosing instead to march you right to the gate. He keeps one hand on your arm and uses the other to maneuver the many locks and wires on the barrier door until it finally opens.

“No, please! I said I was sorry! I wasn’t thinking!”

He drags you out and for the first time in your life, you’ve left the commune. Despite only a metal gate separating both sides, this area seems devoid of life.

He walks and walks until you wonder if you’ll pass out from the panic. You fall to your knees and Joel crouches right in front of you.

“Your daddy ever tell you about the infected?” Joel whispers, tilting your chin up with his index finger. “How they’ll bite and rip into any part of your flesh.”

“No, please,” you whimper.

He drags a finger down your neck and over your exposed collarbones, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your nipples tighten as he glides his finger over one breast and then the other.

“Once they’re done with you, if there’s anything left, then you become just as mindless and violent as them. Forever lost–”

“Sir–”

His hand tightens around your neck, cutting off your words.

“It’s not just one, babydoll. They like to travel in hordes. Makes it easier to find their victims.”

Your air supply thins and blood rushes to your ears. You squeeze your thighs unconsciously as the pulsing between them only grows. Joel ghosts his lips over yours and your eyes flutter closed without thinking.

“But it’s not just them,” he whispers over your lips, “there’s non-infected out there. People who won’t think twice about hurtin’ a pretty girl like you. Killin’ ya’ just for fun.”

You’re not sure who kisses who first. It’s not the chaste kiss the two of you shared at the altar. It’s rough and has you pressing your body close to his so you can take every swipe of his tongue or bite from his teeth. He continues holding your neck, lightly squeezing so you have no other choice than to gasp for air.

You fall back at the push of his hand on your chest. He flips you on your side to untie his belt from your wrists. You attack the moment your hands are free, sliding your hands through his salt and pepper hair and tugging him down.

Joel hisses but returns each of your kisses and bites with his own. You hear the squawk of a crow from above and you're immediately reminded of where you are.

“Wait, sir,” you gasp, “not here. Take me back to your–our house–”

He drags his teeth down your neck, rubbing his beard into your soft skin and biting down.

“Thought you’d rather be out here than with me?” he says, repeating your words from earlier.

“No,” you whimper, trying to push him off, “not here. I–”

He reaches your chest and sucks your nipple into his mouth right over your dress. Your words are cut off and you're arching your back, trying to push more into his mouth.

Joel makes room between your thighs and grinds down as you twist his wavy strands of hair between your fingers. His hard bulge rubs over your pussy and your whimper at the roughness.

He pinches your other nipple between two fingers then leans back to tug down the straps of your dress. Warm, summer wind glides over your now naked breasts and you shiver.

“Look at these pretty tits,” he groans, “all mine.”

Joel yanks the skirt of the dress over your tummy and runs a finger up and down your panty-covered pussy. You shamelessly grind down on his hand and cry out the moment he lands a harsh slap.

“Please,” you beg with what's left of your sanity, “take me home.”

With the same technique as before, Joel holds both wrists in one hand and uses the other to rip your panties off. You try to close your thighs from the sting of the elastic, but he’s quick to stop you.

“Christ,” he whispers, “now ain’t that a beauty.”

With two fingers, Joel swipes through your slick folds and brings them up to his mouth.

“Mmm, sweet girl. Needa taste of this pussy.”

“What do you mean—“

You try to remind Joel of just where the two of you are, but he fits his broad shoulders between your thighs and fuses his mouth to your pussy.

You’re surprised, stunned silent by the heat of his mouth on your most intimate parts. You’re by no means ignorant of what a husband does to his wife—you’ve read enough of the romance books your mother keeps hidden in her bedside table and heard enough stories from your friends to have an idea of what happens on a wedding night.

But never did you imagine it would feel like this. His beard and mustache only heighten the sensitivity between your thighs. The setting sun and the dense forest that surrounds the two of you should add to your terror, but Joel manages to put your attention elsewhere.

His tongue lashes repeatedly over your clit and down to tease your entrance. You throw your head back onto the grass and stare through blurred vision at the purple sky, uncaring of where you are and of what creeps in the dark.

He’s greedy, eating away at you like you're the last meal he’ll ever have. You’re slick and sticky, painting his face with your juices, making it easy for him to push a thick finger into your entrance.

The stretch burns, but he calms you with a swipe of his tongue on your clit and the vibrations of his moans on your skin.

“Your parents were right, you are a virgin,” he groans, pushing on the little piece of thin flesh that separates the rest of you. “Gonna be a tight fit, baby.”

You have no time to think about when your parents had that conversation with him. Instead, you're dumbfounded at the size of his fingers. You whine, unsure of what exactly you're asking, but nonetheless chanting more, more, more into the air.

Joel manages to slide a second finger, curving them and pressing on something bumpy that makes you twitch and see black dots in your vision.

He stretches and scissors his fingers in your tightness, opening you up more and sucking your swollen button between his lips. Just when the heat is about to consume every inch of your body, he stops.

“No,” you whine, trying to yank his head back to your thighs.

Joel dodges your hands and laughs at the desperation written all over your face. He leans down, pressing his wet face to yours in a sloppy kiss, forcing you to suck on his tongue. Riding your pillow doesn’t compare to this.

Just as before, Joel rips away and catches your wrist right when you reach for him.

“If you woulda been a good girl, I woulda eaten this virgin pussy till mornin’,” he says while unbuttoning his jeans. “Made you ride my face and cum as many times as you wanted.”

You barely understand how someone could ride a face, and yet you clench and gush around nothing, wanting his mouth or fingers back. You see the dark, curly hair at his base before he pulls out his length.

“But for bein’ a brat, I’m gonna make you come on my cock instead.”

The tip is swollen and leaking a white-ish liquid that makes your mouth water at the sight. He lets go of your wrist and gently slaps your face.

“Are you listenin’ to me, girl? I won’t fuck you if you ain’t payin’ attention.”

“Y-yes, sir. I’m listening.”

Joel laughs once again, noticing the dazed look in your eyes.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make it fit.”

There’s a craving inside of you, one that has you suddenly feeling so empty, that if he doesn’t fill you with his cock you think you’ll die. You repeat the word over and over in your head.

You’ve read it more than enough times and heard it through hushed giggles from your friends, yet the way Joel says the word, the way he squeezes and twists his hand over his cock, you finally understand what the word truly means.

Your fingers and the handle of your hairbrush were never able to give you what you so desperately seeked. You always stopped before you went in too deep, never able to take that final push inside.

He spreads open your thighs and you lean up on your elbows to try to catch a glance at what he’s doing. You see your sticky fluids stuck on your inner thighs and over the tip of his cock. He pushes in just an inch, and you gasp at the thickness.

“Fuck, tight little thing,” Joel moans. “Need you to beg f’me, baby.”

“Please, please, sir,” you answer quickly, “please, I–I want it!”

He sinks in another inch, his face pinching in barely controlled restraint.

“Say–fuck, say ‘I need your cock, sir’.”

The words are caught in your throat as you try to adjust to his size. Joel doesn’t like that you take too long to answer and slaps your cheek.

“Answer me.”

“I need your–your cock, sir,” you whine.

“Again, fu–again,” he demands.

You try your best to repeat his words, except he’s too far gone now. There’s a pinch, a rip of thin flesh and suddenly he’s sliding all the way in. You claw at his arms and at the grass to get away but he’s gripping your thighs, pressing deeper and whispering take it, pretty girl and you ain’t getting away from me.

You feel full, so incredibly full. You’re split open, ripped apart just for him.

“I know, baby. I know,” Joel coos, “it’ll hurt only for a minute.”

His thumb rubs tiny circles on your clit and he leans over to press kisses on your eyelids and cheeks, licking away the tears that fall.

The stretch burns, but his groans of pleasure and his gentle kisses have a warm glow spreading through your body. Joel notices the change in you and glances down to watch your hips move in small circles.

“There we go, baby,” he moans, “knew you’d like it.”

He pulls out slowly, keeping eye contact with you and watching each pinch of your brow and flutter of your eyelids.

“Saved this pretty cunt just f’me, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, pushing away the sweaty curls from Joel’s forehead.

He picks up the pace, curling his hand behind your knee and pushing it into your chest, arranging you like a doll. The pain now completely gone, you lay there, running hands over his arms and watching the sweat drip down his temples.

Every slide of his cock kisses the very end of you. Your hips move and twist on their own accord and you have no choice but to cry out into the night sky.

“Takin’ this–this big cock like a good girl, yeah?” Joel groans, watching his cock plunge in and out of your little hole. “Need you–fuck, need you to say you’re mine, baby.”

“I–I’m yours, sir,” you whine, feeling a twinge in your core, “yours, yours, yours.”

You dig your fingers in his neck and drag him down for a kiss. He grunts as you bite deep enough to draw blood.

The thoughts from earlier, about running away from him, leave your mind. Even if it hurts a little, even if you aren’t prepared to be a wife, this is exactly what you need. And you won’t let anyone else have him.

“You gonna cum, girl? Gonna cum on your husband’s big cock?”

This time he doesn’t stop you. His hand squeezes your neck and he traps you into the ground, pistoning his hips into your slick cunt. Your oxygen lessens and your cumming, numbness and white heat spreading throughout your body.

“Just like that, baby,” Joel growls, “soak my cock.”

You're gushing on him, painting the hair at his base with sticky juices. You tremble in his arms and claw at the hand that squeezes your neck. Joel doesn’t let up, fucking into your limp body, loving the way you mewl underneath him.

He moves in short thrusts, stiffening and letting out an animalistic grunt into the night sky. He presses his head into your neck, sucking and biting into your soft skin while he spills his seed inside of you.

"Take my cum, baby. Take it, take it," Joel moans.

You clench around him, massage his cock with your inner muscles. Every drop of his cum belongs deep inside of you.

With the little strength left in your body, you run your fingers through his hair. Joel's hands move to grip your thighs and he grinds down, spilling the last of his cum into your cunt.

"You belong to me," Joel whispers. "Don’t ever run again."

You lay there in the grass, breasts bare and pussy full of your husband's cock.

"I won’t," you promise.

Joel leans back and slowly slips out. There’s a twinge of red mixed with his cum that he wipes up with your ripped panties. He lays down next to you and brings you in close so that your head is placed on his chest. You listen to his heartbeat and the sounds of crickets around you.

You think about the long way back to Joel's–well now your house too–and then you remember exactly where the two of you are.

"Sir, we're outside of the gates what if something or someone comes–we don't have any weapons–"

“There’s another gate a few miles out," he interrupts, "I installed it for extra protection around this place.”

You drop your head on his chest from relief and exhaustion. Joel rubs a hand down your back and squeezes your arm.

“I’d never put you in harm's way, pretty girl.”

general taglist: iloved1lfs0

ps: i know that there has been other cult leader!joel fics but in no way shape or form have i copied those works for this. if there is something major in my work that sounds similar to someone else's, it's purely by coincidence. i respect each person who takes time out of their day to write FREE content and the last thing i'd do is steal their storylines 🤍🤍🤍

#joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #hbo joel miller x reader #dark joel miller #dark fic

1K notes · View notes

etheries1015 · 11 months

Note

Hello! I hope your having a good day while reading this but I was wondering if you could write a fic about the housewardens reacting to their s/o koala holding them when they sleep!

Awee that's a cute idea! The house wardens with their little Koala humans heuheu.

TWST housewardens react to their s/o holding them while they sleep

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader, probably shorter than you may have hoped, I'm sorry :( But I hope you still like it!

Riddle Rosehearts

The first time you two slept in the same bed, he was caught off guard when he was suddenly engulfed by your arms. I see him as the type to sleep on his back, still and quiet, and suddenly that is disturbed by the significant other grabbing hold of his arm and utilizing half of his body to be subjected as your personal body pillow. He may find it uncomfortable initially, however, he finds a happy medium by adjusting his form to work with yours whilst still giving him a full night of proper rest. you of course weren't in control of how you slept, and was rather grateful you trusted him as much.

"Were you aware you tend to hug me in your sleep?" He chuckled, "Huh? No, I do not mind. I found a comfortable position to sleep in so that we both got what we wanted. You don't need to sleep elsewhere, I feel...strangely comforted by your embrace..."

Leona Kingscholar

you don't even get the chance to do it first, he already has you beat. He is most assuredly the first to fall asleep between the two of you, his arms are wrapped around your waist and head propped against your shoulder before you had the chance to reciprocate. HE is the koala between the two of you. However, when you wake up in the morning you find that you're now facing him, a tangle of arms and legs as if during the night you both sought to be closer to one another. One big cuddle competition. Yet it was oddly comforting, how you both slept very similarly. Sometimes you're more aggressive than he is though, with your legs bent and holding him in your grasp on the odd days you fall asleep first. It restricts his movements from being able to adjust himself the way he wants, so he isn't shy to wake you up.

"Oy, wake up. I wanna move. Eh? You're comfortable like this? I don't care, let me hold you instead."

Azul Ashengrotto

I will die on this hill when I say that Azul sleeps kind of like an Octopus in his human form, with his arms and legs spread out on the bed. it's his highest form of vulnerability and trust in you for you to sleep in the same bed as him, so of course he will want to practice the same for you. Even when you grab hold of one (or a few) of his limbs and cuddle him as if you were the koala and he the branch, he doesn't mind whatsoever. He is a very still sleeper, so he doesn't feel his movements to be constricted whenever you cuddle him in such a way.

"Do I mind the way you grab hold of me while we are sleeping? No, not at all. If I am being completely honest, it's rather nice..." He falters, "I see it as a form of affection and trust, a sign that you feel safe with me. I rather that not change."

Kalim Al-Asim

He thinks it's the cutest thing in the entire world he has ever seen. The way you grab hold of him in your sleep as if you were claiming him to be yours, he thinks it's wonderfully splendid! It's as if you were being possessive, or you found him to be a soft pillow to grab hold of at night and cuddle with. Honestly, the first time it happened, he got so excited he had to hold in his squeals of satisfaction and joy to not wake you. He revels in this, his head leaning against yours as you use your entire body to hold him close to you. Kalim honestly can't think of a cuter habit for someone he loves to have.

"When you grab hold of me at night, it's the best feeling ever! Oh oh, tonight, can I hold you instead? let's reverse the roles! I want to hold you too- Oh, you won't get a good night's sleep that way? well, that's alright! I'll be your personal pillow as much as you want! Hehe!"

Vil Schoenheit

Vil always had a strong disposition to have a good night's rest. He had his reserves about sleeping in the same bed as you for a while, however, his desire to be close to his beloved outweighed his desire for model sleep. He finds it rather cute when you are in a deep sleep and your arms and legs automatically take him in your grasp. He never thought he would be able to properly sleep with another person by his side, so he is pleasantly surprised when the soft warmth of your body actually helps him get a better rest than ever. He feels safe and at ease in your arms, a strong contrast to the craziness of his everyday life. Being in the public eye he isn't fond of PDA, so at night when it is truly just the two of you, he savors every moment you bless him with your embrace. It's a truly peaceful feeling for him, the way you cutely cuddle into his body without a care in the world about who he is, how he sleeps, and what he looks like in his vulnerable state. It's just... you and him. Nobody else. It's a very intimate time for him.

"Your sleeping habits? Hmm...well, you grab hold of me every night. What? No, it doesn't obstruct my sleep. If anything, I have been feeling much more energized in the mornings...don't overthink it and come over here, my potato. It's time for bed, and I expect to be very thoroughly cuddled."

Idia Shroud

Oh my gosh. You have claimed him. Now he can't move a single muscle, like a cat you have made him your property. If he moves even a single inch, he knows it would ruin the flow and there would be a possibility of you moving, and he doesn't want that. It's like having a cat on your chest, and the second you move even a toe, the cat decides it's tired of you and moves on. Idia doesn't mind if he looses a little bit of sleep staring at the ceiling to allow you the majority of his body to cuddle, he's never been more elated about being in the same bed as someone before. He likes it a little too much, there was one time you were scrolling on his phone to find pictures of you cuddling him at night. An entire photo album in his gallery, in fact.

"N-n-nothing! that's nothing! Don't look, it's not...it's not what you think...oh jeez, you probably think I'm a total weirdo who takes pictures of people when they sleep-- no! not other people, it's just you! I- wait. That was a trap. You set me up for failure with that comment. Ahh, this is so embarrassing...please don't stop! I...I just like it so much when you hold me tight when you sleep...ugh. I can't believe I just said that, I sound like a corny male lead. Don't read too much into it, can't a man just enjoy his significant other's sleeping habits? Jeez..."

Malleus Draconia

You don't get the chance to cling to him, when you sleep with a dragon, they decide to do that for you. When you first slept together in the same bed, he was grabbing hold of you tightly, wrapping his body to be the koala and YOU the branch. There was only one particular night when he slept with his tail free, and you grabbed hold of it in your sleep. He woke up to feeling something pressed against his tail, looking back to see you had taken upon yourself to fully engulf your arms and your legs wrapping around to match. He was fully in your trap! After that, he found a way for both of you to be happy. Holding you in his arms, he adjusted his tail to fit snuggly in the middle of you two, enough for you to grab hold of it in your sleep whilst he was simultaneously holding onto you. Malleus would have preferred wrapping his tail around your body, however seeing you so at peace with it within your grasp, he made an exception.

"Be careful, my dearest. I wouldn't want my tail to hurt you by mistake, so you must be gentle. Ah- my lockscreen? Yes, I can't help but smile every time I gaze upon this photo I had taken, so I had Diamond assist me in changing my mobile device screen. Perhaps I shall take a few more photos, you are rather adorable grasping onto me like a babe to a blanket."

Link to my masterlist

5K notes · View notes

nanaslutt · 5 months

Text

shameless

ʚ yuta x reader

ʚ cont: fem reader, fluffy fluff, jealousy, possessiveness, clingy!yuta

note: congrats @dracrimes for winning my fic giveaway, I hope you enjoy ^.^

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT FOLLOW

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Um...I'll take the brown sugar boba please!" You chirped to the young-looking waitor, who nodded and smiled as he took your order. "Is it gonna be normal sugar, hon?" He asked, tilting his head at you and squinting his eyes a bit as he voiced the pet name. You were so busy looking at the delicious desserts on the menu that you didn't hear the pet name, and you didn't notice the spike in Yuta's cursed energy.

"I'll take it a little sweeter than normal please!" You asked, handing your menu to the man in front of you. Yuta's eyes were glued to where your hands met as the waiter's finger grazed across your own. "Extra sweet drink for an extra sweet girl." He said, winking at you. Your eyes opened a bit in surprise, but you ultimately shrugged it off, thinking he was joking.

At this point, Yuta felt his blood boiling. Was he stupid? Was he so dense that he wasn't able to realize you were on a date right now, or was he so shameful that he didn't even care? Yuta wasn't used to feeling like this. It was rare that he experienced jealousy like this regarding another person. He balled his fist by his side and reached his hand across the table with one hand to adjust your bracelet which had gone crooked, a small show of affection in front of the waitor.

"Are you getting anything Yu?" You asked sweetly, your chest swelling with love as you watched his fingers drag down your wrist to play with your fingers. Yuta looked up from your hands and smiled sweetly, his jaw clenching under the weight of his teeth as he tried to calm himself before he spoke. "I'm okay baby, I'll just have some of yours." You were unable to stop your eyebrows from shooting upward in surprise at the nickname.

It was rare that Yuta used pet names with you, he always got so flustered whenever he tried, so you felt your heart jump when you heard the pet name. You missed the way the corner of the waiter's mouth twitched as he watched Yuta talk sweetly to you in front of him. It was quite obvious what he was doing. You on the other hand were in your own little world, listening to your internal voice scream as you replayed the nickname over in your head.

After the waitor walked away, Yuta quickly got up from his place across from you and scooched into your side of the booth. "You're being so cute today, what was that?" You teased, tilting your head to the side at him as you took his hand in your own, resting your hands over your knee. "You never call me baby." Yuta felt his demeanor change the instant you had called him out. His face went red and he looked away, covering his mouth with his hand as he poorly disguised his embarrassment as a cough.

"I uh, I don't know. Just wanted to say it." He said bashfully, turning his head back your way. "So cute." You gushed, squeezing his hand tighter in your own. Yuta sighed and plopped his forehead down on your shoulder, his breath tickling your arm. "Don't tease me, I just wanted to try it out." He mumbled under his breath. You brought your other hand up and ruffled his hair, making him sit up and look at you with a slight pout as you continued to play with his hair.

While Yuta looked into your eyes the only thing he could think about was how lucky he is, how grateful he is to call you his. And you were, you were his, not that waiter's. Yuta felt bad for feeling so malicious toward the waitor when you had no idea. Maybe he was overreacting, but it still stands that you were his, and he hated to see people hit on you so blatantly when he was sitting right there. He had enough of being treated like he was being invisible for an entire lifetime. It sucked being treated that way on his own, but it sucked even more when you were involved.

"Alrightyy, here's that extra sweet boba for you, hun," Yuta swore he felt a blood vessel in his head pop when that same man's irritating voice echoed from behind him. Yuta still had a smile on his face while he looked at you, but the second he turned his head there was nothing but a smile on his face. He would never treat staff this way, but this time was different. He called you that stupid pet name not once, but twice now?

The waitor had a blood-boiling smirk on his face as Yuta turned around, the two boys making eye contact with one another. You were blissfully unaware of their little rivalry as your mouth started to drool while staring at your drink in his hand. Yuta stopped his hand in motion by grabbing the cup in his own when he looked like he was trying to set it in front of you. "I got it," Yuta said coldly, not even daring to blink as he grabbed the cup from the weaker waitor with ease.

"Right, just make sure you look on the side of the cup little lady, left a little something for you." The waitor explained, directing his focus on you and winking before he walked off. Yuta grits his teeth as he burns the face of that man into his brain, imagining what he would do to him if he could. "Yu look! The top is a bear how cute." You exclaimed, your voice instantly melting away some of the anxiety and malice he was feeling.

Yuta turned his head back to you and rested his head in his hand by placing his elbow on the table as he watched you enjoy your drink. "How is it?" He asked, his heart swelling with love as he watched your eyes light up with joy. "It's soooo good! Try some." You offered, holding the drink up to his lips. He hated to hear you praise the drink that man made, but he closed his mouth around the straw and sipped down some of the liquid. It was a little too sweet for his taste, but it was fitting for someone like you.

"Good huh?" You said, smiling as you pulled the cup away from him. Yuta watched curiously as your smile turned into confusion as your eyes read something on the side of the cup. "Oh..." You said, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I think the waitor left his number on my drink." You said, your expression dropping as you turned the cup around to face Yuta.

The inside of Yuta's head felt like a battlefield as he sat up and grabbed the cup, reading the number over. He took a special interest in the little heart on the side of the cup. "I thought the names he was calling me were a little weird, but I think it's pretty obvious we're together." You laughed. Yuta found nothing funny about the situation, he wanted to throw the drink and the soiled cup at the shameless employee, but he had to hold himself together for you.

"You okay Yuta, don't let it bother you, okay?" You said, caressing his cheek and taking the drink back from him. "I'm fine." He nodded, leaning into your touch. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the shop and go back home with you. Spend some time watching a movie or sitting in the garden alone with you, where he doesn't have to worry about other people ogling you or trying to take you away.

"Is it okay if we leave?" Yuta asked, grabbing your hand that held his face. You felt your heart skip a beat as you watched Yuta close his eyes and bask in your touch. You think you were starting to catch on to why Yuta was being so uncharacteristically clingy, but you didn't want to say something and make him stop acting so cute. "Of course, you feeling okay?" You asked, letting him hold your hand.

"I'm okay, just wanna leave now. Getting a little tired." He said, smiling softly at you. You nodded and began to gather your things. "I'll throw this away for you." Yuta offered sweetly, picking up your finished cup of boba. Yuta made a point to find the trash can closest to the register, where the boy from earlier was standing, waiting for customers. Yuta watched him like a hawk, hoping he would notice him throw the cup with his number on it away. Sure enough, the boy looked over and watched with raised eyebrows as Yuta threw the drink away with a little more force than necessary, the trash shaking from the impact.

The boy sucked his teeth and squinted his eyes at Yuta, watching him turn his back on him and walk back to your table. "Ready?" Yuta offered, holding his hand out for you as you got up to sit from the booth. "Mhm." You smiled, letting him take your hand in his and walk out of the cafe. "I'm actually glad you said something, I was getting a little tired myself." You said as you walked hand in hand down the street, drinking in what was left of the sun before it set soon.

"I'm glad, I didn't want to ruin anything if you wanted to stay," Yuta said, resting his head on the top of your head as you walked together. You smirked and squeezed his hand tighter. "That guy really bothered you huh?" You asked, slowing as you walked up to a crosswalk and hit the button, watching the cars go by. Yuta felt his face heat up as he rubbed the back of his head. You tilted your head at him and smiled, watching his eyes dart around as his face scrunched in embarrassment.

"It's okay Yu, I love you and only you. I don't even remember his face if that makes you feel better." You giggled, smiling up at him. Good thing Yuta remembered his face well enough for the both of you. He wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily. Maybe he would have Panda and Inumaki call the establishment over and over again and complain about him to get him fired. That would make him feel better. Yeah, he would probably do that, and you didn't have to worry about a thing.

Yuta stepped towards you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you tightly against his chest. "Good, because I don't either," Yuta replied, lying in his words. He would never forget such an ugly face so easily. You rubbed your face against his chest and squeezed him tightly, so tight he let out a funny noise of discomfort as you squeezed all the air from his lungs before pulling away.

"Don't be jealous okay? We can spend the rest of the day cuddling in my room when we get back." Yuta couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he looked at you, his heart brimming with joy and satisfaction. He nodded and let you escape his grasp fully as you took his hand in your own and started walking across the street, dragging him along with you. "Just an FYI though, I like it when you're clingy with me, it's cute." You giggled, looking back at him.

"Alright, alright," Yuta said, waving his free hand in front of him, trying to get you to change the topic. You giggled at his embarrassment as he stumbled over his own feet while crossing the street. Yuta was so lucky to have someone as comforting as you as a partner, already he felt the malice from earlier melt off of his body, but the need to hold your hand tightly still prevailed until long after the two of you got back to the dorms.

#yuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen yuta okkotsu #yuta fluff #jjk yuta #yuta okkotsu #jujutsu okkotsu #jjk okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuuta okkotsu fluff #jujutsu kaisen okkotsu #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you

2K notes · View notes

ladadiida · 1 year

Text

𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣�� 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.

#opla #opla x reader #opla x y/n #one piece #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece sanji #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji live action #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #opla sanji x reader #angst #one piece sanji x reader #ਏਓ ladadiida

4K notes · View notes

liz-on-leash · 10 days

Text

A Bad Friend

[Commissioned]

NewJeans Kang Haerin × Male Reader

Noncon, Drugged, Fingering, Facefuck, Squirting, Creampie

4,850 Words

The air was buzzing with energy as you strolled around inside the college party. The music thumped through the speakers, the bass pulsing in your chest.

The room was alive with movement - bodies swaying, drinks sloshing, laughter and chatter filling the air. The dim lighting cast a warm, hazy glow over the scene, adding to the intoxicating atmosphere.

Amidst the chaos, you spot Haerin sitting alone in the lounge, her phone clutched in her hands. You can't help but notice how her pretty features are tinged with a hint of sadness.

You know she's here because her boyfriend Jihoon invited her, but had to back out at the last minute. Poor thing, all alone at a party where everyone else seems to be having a grand time.

You make your way over to her, a friendly smile on your face. "Yah, Haerin-ah," you call out, drawing her attention. Her face lights up when she sees you, and you can't help but feel a surge of affection. After all, the two of you have been friends since high school.

Haerin's face brightens, her big eyes shining with relief. “Oh, yah…" she calls your nickname, a wide smile spreading across her pretty features. You return the smile as you plop down on the sofa next to her.

"What is a pretty princess doing all alone over here?" you ask, acting not to know the gist of the situation. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Haerin's smile falters slightly as she lets out a small pout. "Jihoon oppa had to leave for a family thing at the last minute," she explains. "Now I'm just waiting around to leave. I already told him I'd get a taxi, but he hasn't replied yet."

You nod sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "Well, you don't have to wait around here all by yourself," you offer. "I can give you a ride home if you'd like."

You notice a flash of hesitation in her eyes before she quickly shakes her head. "No, it's okay," she insists. "I will just wait a little longer to see if Jihoon oppa replies. I don't want to put you out."

You know full well that Jihoon has probably warned Haerin to stay away from you. After all, you've never exactly been the model student - you've always been a bit of a troublemaker, much to Jihoon's apparent annoyance.

You remember the smug little smirk on his face whenever he's with Haerin as if he's silently gloating over the fact that he got to "steal" her away from you - that only he manages to get in her pants.

The thought of it irritates you, and you find yourself growing a bit more annoyed than usual before you are pulled from your reverie by Haerin's voice.

"You don't have to worry about me," she says with a smile. "Go have fun! I'll just wait here for a bit."

But you shake your head, returning her smile. "Nonsense, Haerin-ah, I'm your friend, of course, I'm going to keep you company." You stand up, gently squeezing her shoulder. "I will grab us a couple of drinks. Nothing too strong, I know, haha.”

Before she can protest, you turn and make your way towards the drink table. But instead of heading to the main bar, you veer off towards a small, more discreet-looking setup - the "special" booth, as it's known, that provides extra ingredients.

Haerin doesn't seem to suspect a thing as you return with two expertly crafted cocktails in hand.

Haerin flashes you a grateful smile as you return with the drinks. "Thank you so much for spending time with me," she says, taking the cocktail from your hand without a second thought.

As the two of you sip your drinks, you fall into an easy conversation, chatting about classes, professors, and the general chaos of college life. Haerin's cute laugh is music to your ears, and you notice the way her skirt rides up just slightly, exposing the smooth skin of her legs.

Your gaze drifts to the small swell of her breasts beneath her shirt, and you feel your cock start to harden in anticipation.

Before long, Haerin's words begin to slur, her eyelids growing heavy. She doesn't seem to realize her state, continuing to prattle on as you nod and smile, your mind racing with wicked thoughts.

Finally, her voice trails off as she loses consciousness, her head lolling forward.

Right on cue, Haerin's phone on the table lights up with a message from Jihoon, saying he will be there in 30 minutes.

You scoff, cursing that smug bastard under your breath. Haerin is yours for the taking tonight - let's see how proud Jihoon can be after this.

You push aside your anger towards Jihoon, instead focusing your attention on your unconscious friend. You adjust Haerin's posture, guiding her head to rest against the backrest of the couch.

Your fingers caress her soft cheeks, coaxing her lips into a delicate pout. "Such a pretty girl, about to get ruined."

If only she had chosen a better man - for example, someone who didn't constantly get under your skin like Jihoon does. "Oh well," you sigh, "Time to have a taste of Kang Haerin."

The couch is soft beneath Haerin's limp body, her once-vibrant frame now completely pliant and under your full control. You've been planning this moment for weeks, fantasizing about having your way with your friend, and now, with a little help from a potent sedative in her drink, she's at your mercy.

Her long, slender legs, encased in sheer black stockings, dangle over the couch, twitching slightly as if in a dream. You smirk, knowing that soon, she'll be writhing in ecstasy, or so you hope.

Leaning closer, you inhale the sweet scent of her hair, a mix of vanilla and strawberries. Her breathing is slow and steady, a soft purr in her throat indicating she's deep under. You gently brush her jet-black locks away from her flawless porcelain face, exposing her delicate features.

Her lips, usually so quick to challenge and tease, are now slightly parted, revealing a glimpse of her pink tongue. You can't resist running your thumb across her plump lower lip, savoring her warmth. She's so fucking beautiful, and tonight, she's all yours.

Your eyes travel down her body, taking in the sight of her perky breasts rising and falling gently beneath her simple branded white shirt. The fabric is already loosened, hinting at the treasures beneath.

But you're not in a hurry. You want to savor every moment of this violation. Your fingers trace the outline of her nipples, now hard and straining against the thin material. Haerin stirs slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips, but she remains unconscious, a willing victim to your desires.

With slow, deliberate movements, you slide your hand down her flat stomach, the muscles tensing at your touch. Her belly button, a tiny indent, quivers as your fingers poke across it. Further down, your hand reaches the hem of her short skirt. Her pussy, your ultimate destination, awaits.

You lift her hips, bunching her skirt around her waist. Her legs, those long, luscious limbs, fall open, offering you a glimpse of her panties. The fabric is sheer, leaving little to the imagination.

You can see the outline of her bald, swollen pussy lips, already glistening. The scent of her drugged arousal hits you like a punch, a musky, feminine odor that makes your head spin in delight.

You waste no time ripping her panties aside, the sound of tearing fabric filling the lounge. Haerin's cunt is exposed, a pink slit that's already beginning to flower under your intense gaze.

Her clit peeks out from its hood, a tiny pearl begging for attention. You chuckle softly, reaching out to pinch it between your thumb and forefinger.

"Time to wake up, sleeping beauty," you whisper, giving her clit a sharp tug.

Haerin's body jerks, her legs squeezing together as her eyelids flutter, but remain hazy. She tries to speak, but her words are slurred and incoherent.

"Shh, it's me," you soothe, not wanting her to resist. “I'm keeping you company while your boyfriend is gone, remember? And I'm going to make you feel so good."

Your fingers dive into her slit, easily sliding through her juices, coating them in her essence. She's so wet, so ready, despite her confused state. You curl your fingers, searching for her sweet spot, and find it rather quickly.

Haerin's body arches off the couch, her legs shaking as she tries to escape the sudden onslaught of pleasure. "No... stop..." she mumbles, but it's clear she doesn't mean it.

You don't listen anyway. Instead, you thrust two fingers into her tight cunt, pumping them in and out, violating her drugged innocence. Her pussy is hot and unbelievably wet, gripping your fingers. You add a second finger, stretching her, feeling her inner walls clench around you.

"You like that, Haerin-ah? You like being fucked by my fingers while you're out cold?" you taunt, slamming your digits into her harder.

Her eyes roll back, and she whimpers, her body betraying her. You lean down, biting her neck, marking her as you continue to finger-fuck her mercilessly. Her cunt is making lewd squelching sounds, filling the air with the scent of her sex.

Withdrawing your fingers, you admire her gaping hole, then deliver a sharp slap to her pussy lips, leaving a red handprint on her pale skin.

"You're so wet for me. I had no idea you're such a slut. Maybe Jihoon never made you cum like this," you sneer, slapping her again, enjoying her whimpers.

Haerin's eyes focus on you, a mix of confusion and lust clouding her vision. She tries to push you away, but her drugged state leaves her weak. "I'm… Hnn…" she manages, her voice hoarse.

You laugh, grabbing her thighs, and forcing her legs apart again. "You'll be begging for more soon. I'm gonna make you cum so hard you'll forget his name."

Your fingers dive back into her, curling and twisting, finding that sweet spot again. Haerin's body goes rigid, her back arching off the couch as she whines, a high-pitched sound of pure ecstasy. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers, milking them as her orgasm rips through her.

“There you go, cum for me," you encourage, pounding her cunt with your hand.

Her canal spasms uncontrollably, soaking your hand as she rides out her climax. You keep working on her, determined to make her cum again. Haerin's body trembles, her legs shaking violently as she tries to push you away, but you're relentless.

"Please... stop... can't take more..." she begs, her voice weak.

Ignoring her pleas, you show no mercy, adding a third finger, stretching her to the limit. Her pussy is a mess, juices running down her thighs, but you don't care. You want to degrade her, own her in this moment.

Withdrawing your fingers, you lift them to your mouth, sucking her essence off, savoring her taste. Then, grabbing her head, you shove your fingers into her mouth, forcing her to taste herself.

"Lick them clean, you dirty girl," you command, holding her head still.

Haerin's hazy eyes are wide with shock, but she obeys, her pink tongue swirling around your fingers, cleaning them of her own juices. You grin, knowing you've marked her in more ways than one.

As you release her, Haerin collapses back onto the couch, her chest heaving, her body spent. You admire your handiwork, knowing you've given her an experience she will never forget. That is if she even remembers any of this at all.

Haerin's body lies beneath you, her awareness gradually returning to reveal the violation you've already inflicted. Her eyes, like pools of molten honey, weakly flicker open, revealing a haze of confusion and vulnerability that excites you to no end.

With a smile, you straddle her delicate frame, positioning your throbbing erection directly in her line of sight, ensuring her quivering limbs are trapped between your powerful legs. Her chest rises and falls beneath you, the thin shirt now clinging to her sweat-soaked skin, outlining the rigid peaks of her nipples.

Haerin's breath catches, her body stiffening beneath your weight, as she becomes aware of the predator above her. You can almost taste her fear, a delicious appetizer to the main course you're about to serve.

Her gaze locks onto your bulging crotch, her eyes widening as they take in the impressive length and girth of your cock, already straining free against the confines of your clothing.

"Open wide," you say, your voice dripping with lust as you grab a fistful of her silky hair, exposing her slender neck.

She tries to resist, a feeble attempt at rebellion, but her drugged state leaves her powerless against your strength. You yank her head towards your aching cock, making her whimper as her soft, pink lips part in anticipation.

Her breath, hot and moist, washes over the sensitive head, causing it to throb and leak a thick bead of pre-cum.

"Come on, take it in," you coax, using her hair to guide her mouth onto your shaft.

Her lips touch the tip, hesitantly at first, then with more urgency as the taste of you excites her senses. Her mouth feels like a warm, wet glove as you push forward, inch by inch, stretching her lips around your thickness.

A strangled moan escapes her, accompanied by a flood of drool that coats your shaft, making it glisten in the dim light. "Suck it, Haerin-ah," you command, your voice hoarse. "Show me how much you love my cock."

Her eyes, glazed with lust and confusion, meet yours as she reluctantly begins to move her head, taking you deeper into her mouth. The sensation is exquisite—her tongue, still groggy from the drug, clumsily caresses the underside of your cock, sending shocks of pleasure through your body.

You hold her head in a firm grip, controlling the pace as you start to face-fuck her with deliberate thrusts. Her eyes water, tears mixing with the drool that freely flows from her mouth, creating a wet, sloppy symphony as you plunge her mouth. The sound of her gagging and the sight of her struggling only serve to heighten your arousal.

"Look at me. Are you secretly a cock-craving whore, Kang Haerin?" you sneer, forcing her to maintain eye contact as you fuck her mouth with increasing ferocity.

Haerin's throat contracts around your shaft, her body's natural response to the invasion, and it sends a jolt of pleasure through your nerves. You thrust harder, her nose buried in your pubic bone, her breath hot and desperate against your balls.

With each thrust, you feel her resistance melting away, her mouth becoming a willing participant in this depraved act. Her tongue, now more alert, swirls and flicks, learning the contours of your cock, making you grit your teeth to hold back your release.

“Ohh, fuck… I'm going to feed you so much of my cum,” you groan, slamming into her mouth with abandon.

Her eyes roll back, her body trembling beneath you as she tries to process the overwhelming sensations. Her hands weakly push against your thighs, a futile attempt to create some distance, but you easily swat them away, holding her in place.

As you pound her mouth, her lips and throat provide a tight, wet sheath for your cock, massaging and sucking you with each withdrawal and penetration. The slurping, gagging sounds fill the room.

"Swallow it all, or I can make you wear it and parade you all around the venue," you threaten, your voice desperate with impending release.

With a final surge, you unleash a torrent of hot cum down her throat, holding her head in an iron grip as you empty your balls. Haerin chokes and sputters, her eyes bulging as she tries to swallow, but you keep her impaled, forcing her to take every thick rope of your seed down her stomach.

You feel her throat muscles working, massaging your sensitive cock as she struggles to accommodate your load. Finally, you release her, allowing her head to fall back, her mouth hanging open, glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.

Gasping for air, she stares up at you, her expression a mix of shame, pleasure, and disbelief. You admire the sight of her, knowing you've pushed her boundaries, marked her as your own.

Adjusting your clothing, you shoot a final, possessive remark. “Remember this moment, Haerin-ah. Tonight, You're mine to fuck however I please."

Just as you're about to tuck yourself away, the sound of giggling and high-heeled footsteps approaches. Two women, clearly inebriated, stumble into the lounge, their eyes widening at the sight before them.

"Oh, shit! Are we interrupting something?" one of them slurs, her eyes flicking between Haerin's disheveled form and your half-exposed crotch.

You let out a bark of laughter, relishing the momentary confusion on their faces. "Not at all, ladies. Just having a bit of fun. Come on in, I was just finishing up anyway."

The taller of the two, a blonde with smudged makeup, raises an eyebrow. "Finishing up? Looks like the party's just getting started." She winks, taking a step closer, her gaze lingering on your brunette friend.

You'd love to stay and play, especially with Haerin's warm, cum-soaked body still waiting for you, but you're aware of the ticking clock. Her boyfriend is on his way, and you have no intention of ruining your plan.

"Tempting as it is, I've got other plans for this one," you say, nodding towards Haerin. "But feel free to help yourselves to a drink."

With that, you scoop Haerin into your arms, her body limp and pliant, and gather her belongings. She mumbles incoherently, her eyes blinking as she tries to focus on your face.

"Where... what...?" she slurs, her voice hoarse from the rough face-fucking.

"We're going for a short ride, baby," you whisper, nuzzling her neck. "And then I'm gonna finish what I started."

You stride towards the door, Haerin's body cradled against your chest, her legs sagging, still bearing the marks of your fingers. The two women watch, mouths agape in a chuckle as you exit.

Outside, you gently deposit Haerin into the backseat of your car, arranging her skirt to provide a modicum of modesty. Her eyes drift shut again, her body surrendering to the drug's pull. You start the engine, a devious plan forming in your mind.

"Time to take this party somewhere more private, Haerin-ah," you mutter, pulling away from the curb.

The drive to your apartment is a blur of streetlights and growing lust. Haerin remains unconscious, her body swaying with the motion of the car. You can't wait to have her again, to mark every inch of her without the fear of interruption.

As you pull into the empty parking lot of your building, the excitement builds. You carry her up the stairs, relishing the weight of her in your arms, and unlock your door, stepping into the quiet sanctuary of your home.

Haerin's eyes flutter open momentarily as you lay her on your bed, the soft sheets welcoming her small body. She blinks, trying to focus, her lips forming a question.

Your gaze remains fixed on Haerin's body as you begin to undress, your cock already stirring back to life, eager for another round. You peel off your clothes, revealing your muscular frame, every inch of you focused on the beauty lying on your bed.

Her eyes, slightly clearer, watch you with fear as she processes her surroundings. In one motion, you yank her skirt up, exposing her stocking-clad legs.

The delicate fabric clings to her thighs, accentuating her slender limbs. You then tear the material away, leaving her stockings intact as a sexy contrast to her pale skin.

Haerin's breath quickens as you pull her body up to remove her shirt, her movements weak and uncoordinated. She blinks rapidly, trying to clear the haze from her mind. "No... please..." she whimpers, a feeble attempt at resistance.

You snatch her shirt and bra from her body in one swift motion, baring her perky breasts. Her nipples, already hard and erect, stand at attention, begging for attention.

"Relax, Haerin-ah," you whisper, your voice a low, menacing purr. "You're gonna beg for more after I'm done. Trust me."

She tries to push against your chest, but you easily overpower her, pinning her hands above her head, holding her in place. "Why are you doing this? We're friends..." she pleads, her voice cracking.

You lean down, your lips brushing against her ear. "Friends fuck, Haerin. And I've been wanting to fuck you for a long time. Especially now, to teach that asshole boyfriend of yours a lesson."

Her eyes widen at your words, a mix of anger and unwanted arousal flashing across her face. Before she can respond, you align your throbbing cock with her sticky slit, the tip already slick with her juices.

"No... please, not like this..." she begs, her voice breaking as you tease her entrance, not yet granting her the penetration her drunk body craves.

With one thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, claiming her pussy in one stroke. Her eyes roll back, and she screams, the sound raw and primal. “Ohh God—!"

Her body trembles beneath you, her pussy gripping your shaft like a vice, milking you as her internal muscles spasm. You feel her heat, her wetness, enveloping you, welcoming you home.

"Scream harder for me," you grunt, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back into her, over and over, setting a brutal pace.

Haerin's cries fill the room, a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Oh God, oh God, please... it's too much..." she sobs, her body shaking with each violent thrust.

You show no mercy, pounding into her, your balls slapping against her ass with each retreat and advance. Her pussy is so tight, her walls massaging your cock, threatening to milk your load prematurely.

"You feel that, Haerin? My cock owning your pussy?" you grunt, reaching down to pinch her hard nipples, making her arch her back.

"Yes... oh yes... I feel it..." she cries, her voice hoarse. "It's... too much..."

You lean down, biting her neck, marking her as yours. "You're gonna take it all, every inch, and you're gonna beg for more," you promise, your voice a gravelly growl.

With each thrust, you go deeper, harder, your cock hitting her cervix, making her see stars. Her body is a mess of sensations, the drug intensifying every touch, every penetration.

"Please... I can't... I'm gonna..." Haerin's words trail off as her body tenses, her pussy clamping down on your cock as she's hit with a powerful orgasm.

You don't let up, continuing to pound her through her climax, determined to make her see stars again. Her screams echo in the room, a testament to the raw, animalistic sex unfolding on your bed.

As Haerin's resistance crumbles, you release her wrists, knowing she's now completely at your mercy. Instead, you grasp her hips, your fingers digging into her flesh, and lift her, angling her body to meet your relentless assault. She clutches the sheets beneath her, her knuckles turning white, as she screams, her voice raw and hoarse.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she cries, her words becoming indistinguishable from the guttural sounds of pleasure and pain.

You watch her face, contorted in ecstasy, as you thrust into her roughly. Her eyes, wild and unfocused, stare up at you, pleading and inviting at the same time. Your cock, a rigid piston, disappears into her wet heat with each forward lunge, only to emerge slick and glistening before slamming back home.

The force of your thrusts lifts her body off the bed, her ass meeting your groin with a satisfying smack on each downstroke. You feel her inner walls, hot and slick, gripping and massaging your shaft, threatening to milk your cum prematurely. But you hold back, wanting to drive her to the brink of insanity.

Her pussy, now raw and swollen, stretches to accommodate your thickness, the lips molding around your girth, leaving a red, puffy outline as you withdraw. Her juices flow freely, coating your cock and balls, creating a lewd, glistening display.

"Please, stop, it hurts!" Haerin begs, her voice cracking. "Your cock... it's in my stomach... it hurts so much!"

You chuckle, withdrawing almost entirely before slamming back into her, making her body jerk. "Liar. You love it. You're just a dirty cum slut who can't get enough."

Her cries turn to incoherent moans as you lean down, your free hand pressing against her distended belly, adding a new layer of sensation to her already overstimulated body. Her orgasm, which had momentarily subsided, reignites with a vengeance.

"No... again... can't..." she whimpers, her legs stiffening, her body shaking as she's hit with another powerful climax.

You feel her pussy convulsing around your cock, trying to pull your seed from your balls. With each spasm, you thrust harder, driving her over the edge again and again.

Haerin's body goes rigid, her back arching off the bed, as she screams, her throat raw from her incessant cries. Her pussy clamps down on you, a grip that threatens to send you over the edge.

You violate her deeper, harder, your balls slapping against her swollen, sensitive lips, driving her to the brink of consciousness. Her tits, bouncing wildly with each impact, leave a trail of saliva and sweat as they sway with the rhythm of your pounding.

"Cum for me again, Haerin-ah," you demand, your voice a raspy command. "Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock."

Haerin's body convulses, her orgasm ripping through her like an electric current, causing her to see stars. Her juices flow, adding to the wet, sloppy sounds of your fucking, as she surrenders to the pleasure you're inflicting upon her.

As your climax approaches, you feel the familiar tightening in your balls, the knot forming, signaling your impending release. Your thrusts become more deliberate, slower, as you savor the moment.

Coincidentally, Haerin's phone starts ringing, its shrill tone cutting through the room. You see the caller—her boyfriend. An evil grin spreads across your face as you withdraw from her, leaving her pussy gaping, glistening with her juices.

Haerin, sensing a momentary respite, flips onto her stomach, her body trembling, as she tries to crawl away, her movements uncoordinated and weak. You chuckle, striding across the room to answer the phone.

"Jihoon sunbaenim? How's it going?" you answer, your voice laced with false formality.

Haerin, hearing her boyfriend's voice, freezes, her eyes wide with panic. You toss the phone onto the bed beside her, the screen lighting up her tear-streaked face.

"He wants to talk, Haerin-ah. Go ahead, explain what you've been up to."

She shakes her head, her body trembling, as she tries to cover herself with the sheets. "Please... don't..." she begs, her voice vibrating.

Ignoring her pleas, you grab her by the waist, pulling her up onto all fours, her ass high in the air, presenting herself to you. She knows what's coming, her body betraying her as she begins to leak fresh juices, her pussy still swollen from your rough treatment.

"Looks like she's too busy to talk right now," you say into the phone, positioning yourself behind her. "But I'll be sure to pass on your regards."

With that, you plunge back into her, your thick cock stretching her well-used hole. Haerin screams, her hand flying to her mouth to muffle the sound, but it's no use. Jihoon's voice, now frantic, fills the room as he hears her cries.

You grip her hips, holding her in place, as you begin to pound into her from behind, your balls slapping against her clit. Her body is a canvas of pleasure and pain, her ass cheeks quivering with each impact.

"Fuck! Fuck! Oh God— No!" Haerin screams, her voice muffled by her hand, her body betraying her as she pushes back against your thrusts, meeting your rhythm.

You reach around, grabbing a fistful of her hair, and yank her head back, arching her body, exposing her neck.

Her response is a guttural moan, her body going limp as she resigns to the sensations coursing through her veins. You feel her pussy clench around your cock, milking you as she's hit with another powerful orgasm.

With a throaty grunt, you unleash your load deep inside her, your cock pulsing as you fill her womb with your seed. Haerin screams, her body shaking, as she's forced over the edge once more, her juices flowing to mix with your cum.

You hold her in place, your cock twitching as you empty yourself into her, before pulling out with a loud, wet squelch. Haerin collapses, unconscious, her body spent and satisfied.

You laugh, ending the call, and head to the kitchen, leaving her lying there, sated and vulnerable. As you pour yourself a drink, you can't help but chuckle, anticipating her reaction when she wakes up, the realization of what her trusted friend has done.

#kpop smut #girl group smut #male reader #tw noncon #newjeans smut #kang haerin #haerin smut #newjeans haerin #haerin #commission

682 notes · View notes

mimicmimikyuwrites · 7 months

Text

The First "I Love You" - Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You tell Adam that you love him for the first time, the first of any of his wives to tell him that. Your confession of love leads to Adam showing you just how much he loves you back.

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pie, Adam being his usual insufferable self, SMUT, MDNI

The world outside of Eden's garden was a dangerous one, but your husband never failed to keep you safe. Adam had told you stories of the garden and how he lived there with Eve, years before your creation as his third wife. His tales of the place he described as Earth's own heavenly paradise where your every need was met always enamored you; for you too wished you could experience it with him by your side.

The possibility of that happening was long gone as soon as Eve bit into the forbidden apple, but without the actions of your predecessors, you wouldn't have come to be. In a way that even you admitted was a little fucked up, you were grateful that things happened the way they did, and you were grateful you got to meet the love of your life.

Adam was an asshole with an ego that was far too big, but at the end of it all, he was the same man who kept you safe during the day, and who held you at night, keeping you warm despite the cold night, just as he was in the present moment.

You snuggled up to him, your head laying on his chest while his hand absentmindedly combed through your hair; the two of you attempting to get some sleep, gazing up at the stars in the night sky. You certainly weren't in the Garden of Eden, but being with him was like your own personal paradise.

You looked up at him. His eyes were half-lidded and threatening to close from his quickly growing need for sleep. He yawned, pulling you closer, an action that earned a gentle smile from you. You leaned up, kissing him softly.

"Fuck was that for?" He questioned. "You tryin' to fuck, babe? Usually, I'd be thrilled, but I'm exhausted as shit right now."

You shook your head. "I just wanted to kiss you, is all." You replied, smiling at him warmly. He gave you a curious look, unfamiliar with the concept of a kiss that was more chaste in nature. Whenever he kissed you, or his previous wives, in the past it was in the throes of a lustful exchange.

"...Why? Do you want something else, or...?" Confusion filled his voice in a rare moment where he wasn't his usual confident, boisterous self. You shook your head. "I wanted to do it because I love you, Adam." Those last four words played on repeat in his head. "I love you, Adam."

The phrase "I love you," had been uttered by a human before; he had said it to Lilith, and then Eve, but never to you. Yet here you were, the first one to say it to him, all of your volition. The feeling in his heart was indescribable to him, something he never felt before, and it felt better than anything else. Knowing that the one he loved felt the same for the first time ever made him feel almost euphoric, and he was determined to get as much out of that feeling as possible.

His lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss. He climbed on top of you, moving his lips down to your neck where he sloppily kissed and nibbled, earning a light moan from you; one of his favorite noises.

"Let me show you just how much I love you back," he said, voice low, his hands moving to your thighs. "You want that, don't you? Tell me just how much you want that, sweetheart." Your legs spread instinctively as he loomed over you, the pale moonlight of the night reflecting off of him and giving him an alluring glow.

"Adam, please," you breathed out, pulling him down, your faces nearly touching. "I want you so much. Make love to me, fill me up, do whatever you want to me—" He silenced you with another kiss, pushing into you slowly. You moaned into him, your arms wrapping around him in an attempt to get as close to him as you possibly could, savoring the intimacy of it all.

His thrusts were slow, yet deep, and the pace had you feeling every single inch of his cock inside of you. It was a welcome contrast to the usual way he fucked you; with quick, rough movements and an eagerness to reach only his climax and not yours. It seemed for once he was fully enjoying the pleasure shared between you, and in no real rush.

"Say it again," He told you, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his speed increased just slightly. "Say you love me, baby." With your mind clouded with pleasure you barely heard him, your only focus being on the way his cock fucked into your pussy. Unsatisfied with your response, he grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look into his eyes filled with arousal, love, and a twinge of desperation.

"Say. It." He growled, each word followed with a sharp thrust that hit your sweet spot head-on.

"I love you—fuck! Adam!—" You threw your head back, arching your back as he rewarded you by speeding up, thick cock stretching you out perfectly with each movement. "Love you—fuck, yes!" You let out a loud moan as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion.

"Gonna fill you up," He groaned, the sound of his hips smacking against yours filling the air. "'I'm gonna get you pregnant, have you do what those other unfaithful bitches couldn't do for me. You probably want that more than anything, to be my perfect little wife who only loves me."

You only nodded at his words, practically drunk off of the feeling of his cock fucking into you so deliciously, your mind clouded with pleasure. Your nails dug into his back as you attempted to ground yourself, your orgasm barreling towards you; its arrival sure to be at any moment.

"Gonna cum—" He warned, moaning out your name in a way that made you even wetter than you already were. "Y-You gonna let me fill you up? Let me–oh shit—" He moaned again as you wrapped your legs around his waist, burying him in deeper and locking him in place at the same time. There was no pulling out now, not like he was going to anyways.

"Loveyouloveyouloveyou—Ah! Fuuuuck!" He growled, his hips stilling, warm cum spilling deep into you. The feeling of him filling you to the brim sent you over the edge, your climax consuming you.

You two remained in silence for a long couple of moments, looking into each other's eyes in a shared adoration before he pulled out, laying next to you. You closed your eyes, satisfied, yet tired.

"Come here," He said, voice gentle, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. "Let's do that shit you always want to do after I fuck your brains out."

You furrowed your brows in a slight confusion before quickly realizing what he meant. You let out a giggle. "You mean cuddle, Adam? You usually just go to sleep afterward. What changed?"

He rolled his eyes in response to your question, trying to hold back the smile sneaking its way onto his face. "Trust me, I'm going to sleep, babe. Might as well hold onto you so you don't sneak off or some shit like all fucking women seem to do."

You ignored the implications of his comment, snuggling up to him. "I love you, Adam. I mean it. I'm not going anywhere."

He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth in his heart from your words. "Love ya, too. Now go to sleep, the man needs to get his rest."

You closed your eyes, the feeling of him tracing imaginary patterns into your back lulling you to sleep. You loved him, and he loved you, even if he was still struggling to fully accept it.

2K notes · View notes

a-hazbin-reader · 7 months

Note

Hii I love your work!

Could you do a (romantic but.. crush stage) headcanon of Alastor helping the reader and the reader gives him a kiss as a thank you and Alastor is like "what the hell was that?" Reader genuinely feeling bad for kissing him and Alastor says "you should be sorry" but then Alastor starts to constantly help the reader (even more than before) and everyone in the hotel knows what he's doing but reader is dense. Then eventually alastor just bursts into her bedroom shouting "FOR FUCK SAKE WHY WONT YOU KISS ME" (maybe not that but same energy)

Please and thank you :>

I'm just gonna...combine these two...

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being jealous, DOORS, Saucy?

Description: ☝️⬆️

You gave affection freely to those around you, everyone got a hug or a small peck on the cheek

So when you're struggling with something and Alastor helps you out? It's only natural for you to give him a quick kiss on the cheek

It's his reaction to it that makes you think you made a mistake in doing so, his body going stiff and gaze dark

You step back as you start to notice a green haze around him and the glass on his monocle cracking

"Don't you ever do that again, my dear."

"I'm-I'm sorry, Alastor-"

"You should be."

And just like that, he's back to normal, carrying on like nothing had happened and humming a jolly tune

But you still feel so guilty for making him so uncomfortable, that was the last thing you wanted

So you work hard to do better, to respect his boundaries and keep a respectful distance

It's not until later when Alastor has time to think about it that he actually realizes that he kinda enjoyed it

And that he's envious of the others who now freely get to soak up your attention and affection for doing little tasks

Like Husk getting scritches and scratches under his chin because he carried a box for you

Angel getting a warm hug with lots of nuzzling and cooing, all because he used his multiple arms to help you cook

Vaggie sheepishly accepting a thank you kiss because she caught you when you almost took a dive down the stairs

Charlie and Niffty are the worst offenders, always helping you and just eating up your praise and hugs

And now whenever Alastor helps you... you just give him a meek thank you and dash off

He's left there waiting for his hug and kiss that won't ever happen

He's not jealous, he told you not to thank him with physical affection

He just didn't realize that he was shooting himself in the foot when he snapped at you

So he starts trying to tempt you into it, taking every opportunity to help you out with every little thing

Alastor will physically shove the others out of the way in order to be the person who helps you out

And he never gets the proper thank you that he's looking for

It's getting to the point where you're driving him insane with those kissy lips and warm embraces

Why won't you just fucking give him some attention!? Oh yeah. Because he ruined it for himself

You do tell him that you're grateful for him and his help, sweetly smiling at him but keeping yourself at a distance

But it's not enough, he wants what everyone else is getting and then some

He hates being excluded or not being special and it's even worse when it comes to you

Alastor's thin patience suddenly snaps when one day while he's out running errands with you

The two of you bump into Zestial and the great overlord opens a door for you, earning a soft kiss on his cheek

It would almost be cute watching you struggle to do that, considering Zestial's height

But instead...Alastor is fucking irritated 😤

Zestial takes it well and you continue to run errands with Alastor for the rest of the day even though he's visibly sulky

His ears are bent back and his eyes are furious

You wonder what you did wrong

He's a bit distant from you for a couple days after that and you miss having him around

Even if you couldn't be with him, you still liked hanging around him and spending time with him

Just when you're starting to feel sorry for yourself and thinking you did something to offend him, wandering the hotel

He shows up by your side and grabs you, miraculously stopping you from almost falling into a fucking hole in the floor that wasn't there yesterday

Charlie is to blame somehow

You're just so happy to see him hanging out with you again that you hug him out instinct

Only to realize you fucked up and try to pull away-

But Alastor's firm grip on you stops you from moving, and he's looking at you in a way that makes your face heat up

"U-uh...um...thank you...Alastor..."

He tuts at you while shaking his head, pulling you flush against him as he leans in closer

"Words won't suffice anymore, my dear~ I'll only accept one thing as payment for my heroic services~"

You definitely don't melt when he suddenly kisses you and if your arms find their way around his neck then...

Who are you to deny him his payment? Kiss that bastard until he's crawling away and begging for mercy

Me hoping I didn't just shoot myself in the foot by bringing up the door thing again..

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

2K notes · View notes

futurewdclandonorris · 7 months

Text

The Interview | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x bsf!reader

Warnings: smut

Requested: yes

A/N: My first time writing bsf!Lando yay!!! This was a pain in the ass to edit and as twice to write. I wanted to burn it at least six times in the process, but I finally won that war and here we are. I don't hate it, but don't necessarily like it either, but I hope that's only because I read it like 945437 times and already know every sentence by heart 💀 and that you will actually enjoy it <3

Interviewing your best friend, how hard could it actually be? As you sat across from Lando Norris in the cozy McLaren hospitality, you realized that interviewing him was proving to be much more challenging than you had anticipated. Especially when he was looking like that.

Sweats and hoodies were his all time go to whenever he was at home, and you have seen him wearing it numerous times. But that morning when he came to pick you up from your hotel room, you didn’t expect that exact outfit to be the one to leave you stunned.

As you tried to ignore how effortlessly good he looked, in white sweatpants and a light grey jumper that showcased his lean physique, and curls of his hair falling in just the right way over his forehead, you cleared your throat and focused on the notes in front of you. But as Lando flashed you a charming smile and leaned back in his chair, all thoughts of the interview questions went out the window.

“So, what do you want to know that you already don’t?” Lando asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"So, Lando," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "what do you think sets McLaren apart from the other teams on the grid this season?"

"I think what really sets us apart is our team spirit," he replied. "We have an incredible group of people working together towards a common goal, and that camaraderie is something special." Lando flashed you yet another one of his charming smiles.

His words were filled with passion, and it was impossible not to be captivated by the way his voice drew you in. Despite being your best friend, there was something different about seeing him in his element, fully immersed in his love for the sport.

"It's no secret that you have a huge following on social media," you continued, steering the conversation towards a lighter topic. "How do you handle the pressure of always being under the spotlight?"

Lando chuckled softly before replying, "Oh, you know, I just try to be myself and have fun with it. The fans are amazing, and I'm grateful for all their support. Plus, it helps that my memes game is strong," he added with a wink.

"You definitely have some iconic meme moments," you agreed with a laugh, feeling more at ease now that the conversation had shifted to something more familiar. But beneath the banter and playful exchanges, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something Lando wasn't telling you.

Throughout the interview, you noticed subtle shifts in Lando's demeanor whenever certain topics came up. His jokes became more frequent, his sarcasm sharper, as if he was intentionally deflecting your inquiries. You made a mental note to revisit those moments later, but for now, you decided to go with the flow and enjoy the time with your best friend.

Leaning forward, you fixed him with a steady gaze and said, "Let's talk some more about you. It’s the beginning of a new season and fans are eager to know what your goals are for the upcoming races. Can you share with us what you hope to achieve this year?"

For a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes before he smirked and replied, "I hope to give all the other drivers a head start, just to make things interesting," Lando quipped with a mischievous grin.

You chuckled at his response, recognizing the familiar playful tone he always carried. But beneath the humor, you sensed a hint of determination in his eyes. Pushing further, you pressed on, "Come on, Lando. We all know you're not one to settle for anything less than the best. What are your real aspirations for this season?"

“You already know what my aspirations are, y/n. Can’t you just make something up?”

“Of course I can’t. What if I put together a statement and then you tell a different version of events to another journalist?”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t lie to them? Other reporters aren’t my friends so I think it’s actually you who’s in advantage here.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shot back, "Oh, so now I'm the lucky one getting the inside scoop, huh? Well alright, if you’re already so tired of answering my questions, how about we take a break and take some pictures for the article? I also heard you got a new helmet you’ll be wearing for testing as a tribute to Gil de Ferán, right? Let's capture that moment."

Lando's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the mention of his new helmet design. He eagerly agreed, and the two of you made your way to the McLaren garage where his helmet awaited. As he carefully lifted it up, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details and the thoughtful tribute to the racing legend. Lando slipped it on with a sense of pride, and you couldn't resist snapping a few photos of him posing confidently in front of his car.

“Let’s go out to the track and have some shots of you and the helmet there. You could sit on the pit wall and hold it in your lap while admiring it,” you suggested, already envisioning the striking images that would accompany your article. Lando flashed you a grateful smile, appreciating your creativity and dedication to capturing the essence of his racing journey.

Lando perched on the pit wall, his expression a mix of focus and determination as he cradled the helmet in his hands. The vibrant colors of the design shone brightly against the backdrop of the racing circuit, a visual representation of Lando's respect for the sport's history and his aspirations for the future.

You snapped photo after photo, each frame telling a story of passion, ambition, and unwavering dedication.

“You’re choosing some interesting angles,” Lando teased as you were crouching down to get a shot from a lower perspective.

You couldn't help but smile at his lighthearted comment, your cheeks flushing with a warmth that had nothing to do with the scorching sun beating down on the track. Lando's voice had a way of enveloping you, drawing you in like a magnet and as you adjusted your position to capture another shot, your eyes inadvertently lingered on his hands, noticing the way his fingers traced the curves of the helmet with a gentle reverence.

You always thought Lando had beautiful hands, but in that very moment you couldn’t help but think what it would be like if those hands touched you. Really touched you.

The professional journalist in you was focused on capturing the perfect shots and telling Lando's story through the lens of your camera. But the other part of you, the part that had known Lando for years and cherished his friendship above all else, was struggling to keep up with the sudden surge of desires and thoughts that threatened to unravel your composure.

Lando's easy laughter and playful banter did little to ease the tension building within you. With each click of the camera, his presence seemed to grow more magnetic, his features more captivating. You couldn't deny the allure of his smile, the intensity in his gaze, or the way his energy seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.

While you reviewed the photos on your camera, Lando leaned in closer to get a glimpse as well. The heat of his body so near sent a shiver down your spine, and you hastily cleared your throat, trying to dispel the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. But Lando was oblivious to your inner turmoil, his attention fully focused on the images displayed on the screen.

"These look amazing, y/n," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement.

"Thank you, Lando," you managed to reply, your voice sounding slightly breathless even to your own ears. Clearing your throat once more, you added, "We should head back. You still owe me some answers.”

As you walked back towards the McLaren hospitality unit, Lando slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a playful headlock. "You know, y/n, for someone who claims to be a professional interviewer, you're not half bad as a photographer either," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You chuckled, swatting his arm away with mock indignation. "Hey now, don't let my talents overshadow your own star power. I'm just here to make sure the world sees the real Lando Norris in all his glory, on and off the track," you quipped back with a grin, the easy banter between you a testament to the years of friendship that had only grown stronger through the shared journey in the fast-paced world of Formula 1.

As you reached the hospitality unit, Lando released you from the headlock and held the door open with a flourish. "After you, madam photographer," he said with a mock bow, his eyes dancing with a mischievous gleam.

You both entered the bustling hospitality area, filled with team members preparing for the upcoming race weekend. The familiar sights and sounds enveloped you, a comforting blend of adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied a race day.

The familiar faces of the McLaren team greeted you warmly, their camaraderie palpable in every interaction. Lando's presence only added to the vibrant ambiance, his infectious laughter drawing others to join in.

Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched as Lando engaged in animated conversations with his teammates, his passion for racing evident in every gesture and expression. It was moments like these that reminded you why you were drawn to motorsport in the first place—the sense of community, the thrill of competition, and the shared pursuit of excellence.

“Sorry for leaving you like that,” Lando said, sliding into the seat across from you, “but duty calls. It’s time to jump in the car. We can finish the interview later tonight, if that’s alright?”

"Of course, go do your thing out there on the track. We'll pick up where we left off," you replied, giving him an encouraging smile.

You stayed for a while, watching him drive and snapping a few more photos of his swift maneuvers on the track, each turn and acceleration a testament to his skill behind the wheel. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the circuit as the day drew to a close and you decided to go back to the hotel and edit the material you’ve gathered so far.

Having spent the whole day on track in the glowing sun, you first took a shower and got more comfortable in your pajama shorts and loose top before settling down at the small desk in your hotel room. The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you organized your notes and sifted through the photos from today's shoot. Lando's vibrant energy leapt off the screen, each image a kaleidoscope of emotions and determination captured in still frames.

Lost in thought, you were startled by a knock on the door. Puzzled, you made your way over and peered through the peephole to see Lando standing outside, a sheepish grin on his face. And he was back in that damn outfit from before.

Despite the late hour, you couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of Lando standing at your door, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. Opening the door, you raised an eyebrow in mock admonishment.

“Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” you quipped, stepping aside to let him in.

“Never,” he replied with a grin, making himself at home in your hotel room. “Besides, I thought we could finish that interview now that I'm all fresh and ready to spill some secrets," you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with an easy familiarity, as if he had been in this space countless times before. “Oh, sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” he asked, as if only now noticing your comfortable attire, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than necessary, before innocently looking you in the eyes with a small smile.

Ignoring the flutter in your chest at his gaze, you shook your head with a chuckle.

“Not at all, I was actually working. You should see your helmet shots on a big screen. They turned out to be amazing.” you gestured as you took a seat at your laptop to show him.

Lando leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he peered at the screen. You couldn't help but notice the closeness between you, the shared intimacy of the moment sending a chill down your back.

“Wow, these look incredible,” Lando breathed, his voice low with awe. ”You really have an eye for capturing the moment.”

His praise sent a flush of warmth to your cheeks, a mixture of pride and something else you couldn't quite name. As you scrolled through the images together, Lando's hand brushed yours accidentally, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.

Clearing your throat and trying to ignore the nervous flutters, you turned to face him. "So, about those secrets you promised to spill..."

Lando's eyes sparkled mischievously as he settled into the armchair beside you, his gaze intense as he studied your face. For a moment, there was a weighty silence that hung between you, thick with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. You could sense a shift in the air, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation of what he might reveal.

Finally, breaking the tension with a casual shrug, Lando chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?" he asked playfully, though there was a glint of vulnerability in his eyes that you couldn't ignore.

Seeing him sit there casually in that armchair and in those sweatpants with legs spread lightly made your breath a little quicker. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you busied yourself with your notebook to keep you from looking at him. “So,” you started, flipping through pages. “We have a few unanswered questions left...”

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves at his intense stare, and you mechanically placed a hand on the back of your neck, stretching it out slightly. Lando's gaze followed the movement, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shockwave of warmth through you, the soft brush of his touch awakening a hunger you tried to suppress the whole day.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone low.

You chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Why would I be nervous? It’s not my first time conducting an interview.”

Lando's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your heart race. "Maybe it's not the interview that's making you nervous," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

Your mind raced with a million thoughts, emotions swirling within you as you met his gaze, feeling as though you were on the precipice of something unknown yet undeniably thrilling. In that moment, all the barriers you had carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability you had long kept hidden.

“I noticed the way you were looking at me out on the track today,” Lando murmured, his voice husky with unspoken desire. “It wasn't just the photographer's gaze anymore, was it?” His hand lingered on yours, a silent question hanging in the air. “Especially when you crouched down to get those low angle shots of the helmet. I could feel your eyes on me longer than necessary. You didn’t do it because you wanted to capture the shot perfectly, did you?” he continued, his gaze searching yours for any sign of confirmation. “No, you did it because you wanted to be on your knees for me, to be close to me, to feel the heat of my body as you snapped away at your camera. Admit it,” Lando's voice was a whisper, causing a flurry of emotions to swirl inside you.

His words were like a sharp blade, slicing through the air and laying bare a hidden longing that had been bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he had just said settling in the space between you.

“Even this, you inviting me into your dimly lit room—”

“I don’t like big lights,” you interjected, as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation.

But he continued as if you hadn't said anything. “—in your silky pajama shorts and that flimsy tank top that leaves little to the imagination,” Lando said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer, his gaze smoldering.

“I was getting myself comfortable—”

“Of course, you’re smart and already have a reason for everything I point out,” Lando's gaze softened at your words, a flicker of understanding passing between you as he reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of his touch sent a wave of sensation to travel down your spine, reigniting the fiery connection between you. “But I am your best friend, and I know you. You can try as much as you want, but you can’t hide the truth from me,” Lando murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I know you inside out.”

His words hung in the air, the tension between you palpable as you both teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniably present. And maybe. Maybe he was right. Intentionally or not, you did know he was coming.

In that charged moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you made a choice. You took him by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips together. You pulled him with such force that he stumbled forward, but he quickly found balance by taking a handful of your hair and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was electric, a surge of raw desire and pent-up emotions finally breaking free. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of him, the warmth of his lips searing through you like a wildfire.

Every touch, every caress, ignited a blazing need within you, a longing that had been buried for far too long. As you melted into each other, the boundaries that had kept you apart crumbled, leaving only the raw, primal connection that bound your souls together.

As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Lando's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, craving, and something deeper that stirred within his gaze.

“Is this what you wanted?” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the tense stillness that enveloped you both.

“I wanted to kiss you first, but god, you’d beat me to it,” a low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but beneath it lay a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. In that moment, as you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same between you.

You reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jawline as if committing every detail to memory. The room felt as though it had shrunk, leaving just the two of you in your own intimate world where words were no longer needed.

“Then kiss me,” you breathed.

Lando's lips met yours in a frenzy of passion, each kiss deepening the connection that had ignited between you. His hands dug into your shirt, pulling you closer as if trying to erase any remaining distance between you. You responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, a surge of emotions overwhelming your senses.

He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, your laughter mingling with his in the heated moment. As he joined you on the mattress, his lips trailed down to your neck, your skin tingling at his touch, and you moaned softly as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. A shiver ran through your entire body, and you arched into him, inviting him further.

He took the invitation, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his touch feather light at times, then rougher, aching to leave his mark upon you. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers traveled over your chest, igniting a wave of heat inside you. Each touch left a trail of fire, intensifying the sensation.

His mouth found its way to your lips again, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you met him eagerly, your tongues twining together in a frenzied dance. The room was filled with the sound of your breaths mixing, your hearts pounding in sync, as you lost yourself in each other's embrace.

Lando's body pressed against yours, his heat searing through your clothes, making your skin feel like it was sizzling. You could feel his hardness brushing against your core, making you moan softly, yearning for more.

Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, needing the intimacy that only skin-to-skin contact could provide. His mouth gently moved down the curves of your neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses that sent sparks of exhilaration coursing through your body. You arched your back yet again, wanting more of his touch, more of his attention.

Slowly, he lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach, and you felt a sudden rush of heat between your legs. His eyes locked onto your bare skin, a hunger gleaming in them. You knew he was seeing all of you, every flaw and imperfection that made you, you. But he didn’t care; he wanted you just the way you were.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the sincerity in his words, and a wave of vulnerability washed over you. This wasn’t just about the physical attraction; it was about the emotional connection you had built over time.

He kissed your stomach, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted him closer; you wanted to feel his skin against yours. You reached behind you and tugged off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique that you had always admired.

You pulled him closer, and he kissed you again, his hands wandering to your breasts, tracing the outline of your nipples through your pajama top. You moaned softly, arching your back, wanting more of his touch.

He took off your top, revealing your bare chest, and you shivered at the feeling of his rough hands on your skin. He kissed your torso, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you moaned softly, inviting him to explore more.

He trailed his lips down your stomach, leaving a path of wet kisses that made you tremble with longing. You could feel his breath on your thigh, and you knew what was coming. He traced the edges of your panties, his fingers teasing you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with craving. He wanted you more than anything, and you knew it. You were his, and he was yours.

You reached down and pulled off his pants–the damn pants that started all this in the first place–revealing his erection that strained against the fabric. Your fingers grazed it, and he moaned softly, his eyes locking with yours. You could see the need in him, and it made your heart race.

You pulled off his pants, revealing his naked body, and you couldn't help but admire him. He was perfect, every inch of him, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for. This was the moment you had been dreaming of, the moment you had been yearning for.

He laid you down gently and continued to explore every inch of your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, your waist, your thighs, each touch setting off a firestorm of desire within you. You moaned softly, your body arching towards his, craving his touch.

He slid his fingers between your legs, teasing your most sensitive spot, sending waves of delight coursing through you. You gasped, your breaths becoming shallow as you struggled to control the growing want inside of you.

Lando's eyes locked with yours, a mixture of lust and tenderness shining in them. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath warm and sensual, “You are never to interview any other driver, you hear? You are mine. My best friend, my reporter.”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with his as he skillfully used his hands to bring you to satisfaction. "I don't know, Lando. What if my boss wants me to do another story? What will I say then?"

“Then you do it somewhere I can see you. And you wrap it up, no inviting other drivers into your hotel room cause look what happens,” he quipped, his fingers moving faster, sending shivers throughout your body.

You gasped for air, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure building up within you. You knew that you were close, that you couldn't hold back any longer. “Lando, please,” you begged, your body aching for release.

Lando's eyes met yours, a fierce intensity in his gaze. He knew what you needed, and he was more than willing to give it to you. With a sudden, forceful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.

You cried out, your breath hitching as each thrust sent you higher and higher. Lando's pace quickened, his body slamming against yours, each movement a testament of his want for you. The room was filled with the sounds of your intertwined bodies, your hearts beating in sync, lost in the moment.

“You feel so good,” Lando panted, his voice low and rough. He reached up, his hands tugging at your hair, pulling your lips to his in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, tasting you, possessing you.

You wrapped your legs around him, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. Your body ached for more, craving the release that only he could give you.

Lando's thrusts became more insistent, his hips pistoning against yours, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as the ecstasy built up inside you. You could feel the heat coursing through your veins, the desire consuming you.

“Lando, oh god, I'm so close,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Lando responded by increasing his pace, his body slamming into yours, each thrust sending overwhelming bliss throughout your entire body.

You felt the familiar sensation building up within you, the pressure rising, the heat spreading. You knew what was coming, and you welcomed it with open arms. With a loud cry, you arched your back, your body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, engulfing you completely. Lando's body followed suit, his thrusts becoming erratic, his voice hoarse as he emptied himself within you, crying out your name.

Your bodies collapsed onto each other, panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat. You didn't know how long you lay there, lost in each other's embrace, but the moment felt timeless.

You glanced at him, only to see him sound asleep with a contented smile on his face. You couldn't help but run your fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his head on your chest. But you still had the article to finish and the call from your editor to make.

You gently extracted yourself from his embrace, feeling the cool air on your skin as your body adjusted back to reality. With a tender kiss on his forehead, you whispered, “I'll be right back,” feeling a sense of contentment and a touch of guilt at leaving him there.

You put on a robe and sat down at your desk, using the warm glow of the computer screen to illuminate your face as you typed away, every word bringing you closer to finishing the article. Although he owed some questions to the world, as his best friend you already knew the answers to almost every one. Remembering his words from earlier, you took it to your advantage to finish the article.

As you worked, the memories of the night still fresh in your mind, you couldn't help but recall the way Lando's hands felt on your body, the way his breath grazed your skin, the way his voice whispered husky promises in your ear. It made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to be professional.

With the piece finally done, you sent it to your editor, knowing that you had captured the essence of Lando's journey and the excitement surrounding his career. You knew that this was just the beginning of many great things for him, and you couldn't be more proud to have witnessed it firsthand, as his best friend, reporter and maybe something more in the future.

1K notes · View notes

3minsover · 1 month

Text

Steddie who keep missing each other. Who aren't in love at the same time. It's neither of their faults; they're just not quite in touch, in tune with each other.

Sure, Eddie had a stupid huge embarrassing crush on Steve throughout junior year, senior year and senior year 2.0. Sure, it was made so much worse when in Steve's first and only senior year, Eddie found himself sat in math class diagonally behind the fallen king. He'd watch the way his hair moved when he ran his hands through it in frustration. He'd see the shift of muscle under his shirt when he bent down to pick up a dropped pencil. And every time Steve would smile, flutter his lashes and pinch his eyebrows, say; "I'm sorry sir, I just don't know", Eddie would find himself shifting in his seat, nipping at the skin on the side of his finger, knee bouncing under the desk. They didn't really talk beyond 'hey's in the corridor, beyond 'did you do the homework?'s - to which Eddie would without fail stutter out an 'Uh- so, no. I meant to- Just, uh. No.' and Steve would without fail flash a soft smile, bump his shoulder into Eddie's and whisper 'Me neither.'

It got easier, after Steve graduated. Eddie still saw him around, still recognised his car in the lot when he was giving Robin Buckley from band a ride to school. But it wasn't so immediate, wasn't so raw. And after a while, the butterflies would fade. He'd be able to meet Steve's eye across the Family Video counter without feeling his mouth go dusty and his heart leap into his throat.

Steve hadn't realised his feelings for Eddie were anything more than friendly, until he graduated high school. Without the daily glances across the classroom, the moments he'd always take to make conversation, it felt emptier. It gave him time to think about the way his chest would tighten at Eddie's shy smile whenever they talked. Steve hadn't realised he might be allowed to feel something softer than 'dudely bro-ship'.

That is, until it fades so the only time Steve sees him is when he drops Robin off at school, or when he comes in to family video to rent Halloween again. Steve's heart prickles at the sight of him, but after a while, Eddie's visits drop off.

Steve tries to keep himself busy, grateful for some time without inter-dimensional battles or Russian agents trying to kill him. Thoughts of Eddie drift to the back of his mind, for almost six months. And then in the spring of '86, Steve finds himself thrown against the splintered wall of a nondescript boathouse on the outskirts of town. And it's Eddie Munson from Math that has a shaking, jagged bottle held up to his throat. It absolutely doesn't awaken things in him that he never knew he could want, absolutely not.

But regardless, he's staring half-terrified into the dark, watery brown eyes of Eddie Munson from Math, and all he wants is to reach out and smooth a palm over his cheek. He wants to curl his hand around those trembling fingers and tell him it's all gonna be okay. Of course, it isn't. Steve doesn't get much of a chance to talk to Eddie over the next week, what with some vampire soul-sucker guy terrorizing the town, and Max getting possessed and the whole thing going entirely to shit. But he finds himself drawn inexplicably into Eddie's space, splits off with Eddie and has the girls pair up and then Eddie calls him 'big boy'. And his entire world stops spinning for a moment. For just a second, it's just the two of them, and Eddie's face is so close to his, his smile so wild and beautiful.

The whole world stops, before it rockets back into thrilling, terrifying motion.

In the fear and the panic of the final Vecna showdown, Steve has to thrust his feelings back down deep. He can't let shit like a crush get in the way when the lives of the people he loves most are at stake.

It all happens so fast, and before he knows it, Max is in a coma, Eddie's been torn up to within an inch of his life, there's no certainty that Vecna's even gone, and he doesn't know what to do.

For days, Steve sits by Eddie's bedside when he can - when he's not with Max - only sleeps when he does. He silently begs for Eddie to be alright, feels guilty for every thought he has that isn't about Max. He begins to resent how desperately he pines for the moments when Eddie's awake, and after a week, once it's clear that Eddie's going to recover, Steve doesn't visit him anymore.

With all the feelings that are getting jumbled amongst the multitude of all the other horrible nasty fragile things that are writhing around inside, Steve forces himself to shove any thoughts of Eddie down, to get over him. And before he realises, it's been weeks. He's still worried for Eddie, of course he is. The guy almost died in Henderson's arms. But now the world's not actively ending, now he has a moment to breathe, he wonders whether the sparking, shimmering thing that had his mouth going dusty and his heart leaping into his throat was the same thing that had him saying all that shit to Nancy in the upside down.

He can't trust that it's not just a trauma response.

After Eddie recovers, slowly and with more help than he'd ever admit he needed, he sees Steve again. But he's distant. Friendly, but impersonal. An acquaintance. Things are as they were before. It hurts, but he knows all too well that any of the flirtation, the playful teasing and longing looks can only be chalked up to the fear of the end of the world.

It's a couple months before Steve tells Eddie he's going to college out of state. He's leaving in a week. And everything that had been laying dormant for so long comes bubbling up to the surface.

"Shit, I wish you'd given me a little more notice, Harrington," Eddie says, trying desperately to keep the heartbreak out of his voice.

"I'm sorry man, I just. It all happened pretty fast and like if I didn't do it now, it wasn't gonna happen, yknow?" Steve shrugs awkwardly, runs a hand through his hair.

If I didn't do it now, it wasn't gonna happen.

"It's gonna be a damn sight harder to like you this much when you're that far away," Eddie's mouth says before his mind can catch up.

"I like you too, man, but hey, I'll be home for Christmas. You can catch me up on everything I miss, huh?" Steve bumps Eddie's shoulder, just as he used to when they were leaning against the lockers back at school.

"No, Steve. I- You're, I mean. I like you. In a- Like I have, I totally have feelings for you, dude," Eddie forces out, watching his sneaker as he kicks at the ground.

"Eddie..." Steve says softly, and it just breaks Eddie's heart even more. Because that's a let-him-down-gently 'Eddie'.

"No, no it's- Don't sweat it man, just sorta had to tell you before you- Anyway. Have fun at college. I'll- I'll be here when you come home."

"Eddie, wait. I'm sorry. I just..." Steve begins, looks so pained, reaches to take hold of Eddie's shoulder. He avoids it, ducks out the way. And then Eddie leaves, before Steve can try to do something awful like making him feel better or tell him it's okay.

Eddie doesn't see Steve again before he goes to college. Hears from Henderson over the next few months how he's getting on, all the babes he's dating, the assignments he's trying to actually do before the deadline, and Eddie forces himself to smile, crack a joke, whatever.

Slowly, he extricates himself from conversations about Steve. Doesn't want to hear it, but can't tell anyone why. So he finds excuses; he has to take a leak, just remembered he promised Wayne he'd pick up groceries, got band practice, whatever he can come up with. He doesn't even hear Steve's name, tries desperately not to think about him (and fails), until December.

Until the evening of December 24th, when there's knock at the trailer door. With Wayne already asleep, Eddie drags himself from the couch to pull the front door open.

Eddie's met with a coat-wrapped, scarf-muffled, bobble-hatted Steve Harrington standing on his doorstep. He’s rocking back and forth on his toes, arms crossed tight around his chest, hands tucked under his arms. His cheeks are pink, the tip of his nose pinker still, nibbled by the cold. He’s just as beautiful as the last time Eddie saw him, and it jerks his heart into frantic motion against his ribs.

He’d thought he was over Steve, that seeing him again would be just like what it is; welcoming home an old friend. Except all Eddie wants to do is take hold of Steve’s frostbitten cheeks, pull his face towards him and kiss him like it’ll erase all the months of pining that had gone before.

Of course, he doesn’t. Instead, he just balks, says "Steve? What are you-?"

"I had to see you. I’m sorry if this is like inappropriate or if you don’t wanna see me- Dustin said you seemed like, mad at me or something. And honestly I can’t blame you, really. I shouldn’t have- it’s not that I didn’t, that I wasn’t. What I’m trying to say, Eddie, is that I know it’s too late. I know I missed my shot. But I haven’t stopped thinking about you for the last four months."

"Steve-"

"I know I have no right to do this to you. But it was killing me, man. Because I think I might have- I think I might be-"

"Me too," Eddie interrupts. His mind’s whirring and tumbling, trying to gather up the pieces of Steve’s fragmented confession. Steve’s jaw hangs open just a little, paused halfway through a word. "I thought it’d gone away. Thought I’d gotten over Steve Harrington," Eddie continues with a sardonic little shimmy of his hands, "but uh, seems you’re a little harder to shake than I thought."

"D'you, d'you want to shake me? Off, I mean," Steve asks, dipping his chin and looking up through thick lashes, a shy, self-conscious suggestion of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"No. no I don’t."

"Oh thank god. 'Cause I don’t know if I’d survive that," Steve exhales, his small smile spreading into a grin. He rocks forward onto the balls of his feet again, and Eddie finds himself pulled into Steve’s orbit. It doesn’t matter that he’s just in his socks and the doorstep is damp with cold. Eddie crosses the threshold and curls his fingers gently around the lapels of Steve’s coat. Eddie’s struggling to breathe, little puffs bursting forth from his lips and clashing in the air, mixing with Steve’s own.

"Can I-?" Eddie asks, doesn’t dare say the word aloud in case Steve’s not on the same page; gives himself an out if Steve’s not where Eddie’s at. Where he’s always been at, really. It just wasn’t quite at the right time.

"Yes. Please," Steve breathes, sweet frosty breath swirling gray-white around in the thin, chilly air between their faces. Slowly, giving Steve plenty of time to back away, change his mind, Eddie draws Steve towards him, tips his chin until their noses brush. the very peaks of their lips touch, and Steve’s breath hitches at the contact. It’s the prettiest sound Eddie’s ever heard. Eddie sips in a breath, hardly daring to move, and lets Steve nudge their mouths together.

Finally.

Their lips press softly together, and Eddie feels Steve’s hands come to grip at the sides of his sweater, bunching it at his waist. He pulls Eddie towards him, moans softly, just the tiniest hint of voice slipping out and into Eddie’s mouth. A new prettiest sound.

Suddenly aware of their very public, very chilly location, Eddie stumbles backwards, pulls Steve inside with him. Steve follows enthusiastically, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel, lips never leaving Eddie’s for even a moment. They’re entirely wrapped up in each other, even as Eddie frantically unwraps Steve’s cold-proof clothing, lost completely in the feeling of their bodies pressing together.

They took their time, to get here. But now that they are, here is where they’ll stay. It won’t be easy, being apart for long stretches while Steve’s away at college, but now they’ll have a little something of each other’s to keep hold of until they’re together again.

They’ll have the promises they made each other that night, the words whispered against skin, the kisses pressed and breath shared. They’ll have the silent, precious exchange of one heart for another. And that will see them through.

#steddie #mutual pining but not at the same time #steddie ficlet #fanfic #3minsover #steve harrington x eddie munson

573 notes · View notes

rayne-astrophile · 7 months

Text

i think i'm getting into another fandom :"D

Mashle x Reader Headcanons

When they were sick for the first time after getting into a relationship with you

Mash

Bro doesn't realise that he's sick

You have been pointing it out since morning, but he doesn't want to listen

He rarely gets sick, after all

So when he finally accepts the fact that he's actually sick, you help him get into bed

Nothing much happens, he's obedient

Until you give him medicine

He throws up after eating a pill

"T-Too bitter...."

You have to mix the medicine with the cream puff

At first, he'll be like "???" because the cream puff tastes like the medicine he threw up

But he finishes anyway, because it's the cream puff you made for him

After that, you give him another one to make up for that trick cuz you feel bad

He'll ask you to cuddle with him in his bed

He's a large teddy bear

The next day, he's already well, but you get sick because of the cuddle from last night

He'll ask Lance to help him take care of you ❤️

Lance

This man refuses to accept the fact that he's sick

"I'm not sick, I never get sick, I can't get sick because Anna needs me-"

"Anna will be upset if you don't take care of yourself."

And on the bed he goes

Nothing much to do, he can take medicine well

But he can't take it when you want to feed him porridge that you cook for him

"Stop, I'm not a child!"

"C'mon, this is the only time I can be romantic with you!"

After an argument that you barely win, you get to feed him

His cheeks are red when you reach out a spoonful of porridge, but the delightful smile on your face makes him eat anyway

It's true, both of you never have romantic moments together

He always focuses on healing Anna, and you respect that

You don't complain at all, and he's definitely grateful for that

For not leaving him because he puts his priority on someone else instead of you

Welcome to reality guys, family matters more than lover

That's why he doesn't mind it when you stay with him the whole day

This moment is the only time he spends with you, with you alone

Before, whenever he gets sick, he's always by himself

So when he has you, he's so grateful

For your love and patience for him

The next day, everything went back to normal

Both of you will act like usual, like friends do instead of lovers

Except for the fact that he always stands by your side instead of being beside Mash, Dot or Finn

It's a small change, you barely noticed it but you do anyway

And that just makes you love him more ❤️

Rayne

He knows that he's sick

The moment he wakes up, he knows there is something wrong with him and figures that he has a fever

But man doesn't care

He has a job, and he doesn't care about himself

But he has you, and you care for him

At first, you don't notice it

But when your hand accidentally brushes his, you can feel that he's burning

But he's quick to deny it

"Rayne! You're sick-"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You force him to rest, but you know how he is

You give up and ask Wahlberg to give Rayne a one-day break, and he immediately agrees

He knows that lad needs rest too

So you come to Rayne, the wide grin on your face makes him furrow his eyebrows

"I asked Wahlberg-san to give you a one-day break. So let's rest!"

He sighs

"You're truly a stubborn one, aren't you?"

"You are, too!"

But he knows, that is one of the reasons why he falls in love with you

He lets you take him back to his dorm and tuck him to bed

You tend his needs; food, medicine and check his temperature from time to time

You never leave his side, and he doesn't complain

When the class time comes, he lets you go. He thinks he's not important enough for you to skip classes, so he tells you to go to class

You did go to class anyway, because you know he won't be a brat and get off the bed until you're back

After the class session, you go back to his dorm to check on him

When you arrive, he's sleeping

He looks so cute in his bunny blanket

You try to not make a sound, but when you touch his forehead to check on his temperature, his eyes snap open, startling you

He immediately sits up despite your protest

"I made some notes for you. You can catch up with the syllabus later, but you need to rest now."

He's grateful that he chooses you to be his partner

You make him a porridge and he lets you feed him without a word

This makes you happy, because you never have such moments with him

Rayne is a busy man. He never really has time for you, but you understand

So you treasure this moment so much

After feeding him, you tuck him back to bed and put a damp towel on his forehead to ease the temperature

When you think that he's sleeping, you play with his hair while sitting beside the bed happily

Little did you know, he's awake all along

He likes it when you play with his hair. It's soothing

When the night comes, you ask his roommate to switch with you for a night

At first, Rayne says that it is unnecessary, but you are his girlfriend, you have the right to be worried

You sit on a chair beside the bed, telling him about your day

He listens of course. This is the only moment he can spend his time with you, after all

Then, when you're getting sleepy, you rest your head on your palm as your elbow rests on the bed as you talk to him

He notices that you are getting sleepy

"Come, get on the bed." He offers

You had done everything for him today

You tend his needs, go to class, and stay by his side without break

He doesn't even know if you take your meal or not

So sharing a bed with you is the least he can do

At first, you refuse because you don't want him to be uncomfortable

But when he insists, you happily agree

You would take as small space as you could on the bed as you're still worried that he might get uncomfortable

But then he grabs your hand and pulls you into his embrace, shocking you

"Rayne...?"

He rests your head on his chest as his warmth engulfs you

"Don't talk. Just sleep,"

You try to raise your head to look at him, but he pushes your head back against his chest

But you can hear his heart beating fast

"....I'm sorry I can't spend time with you." You hear him mutter. "I can't give you attention like any other boyfriend does. I can't even spare a glance at you some days. Yet you're still here for me," You can't help but feel your heart ache at the vulnerability in his voice. You take his hand from your head and hold in yours as you raise your head to look at him. "I told you I love you, didn't I?" You smile softly at him. "It doesn't matter if you don't have time for me or if you can't give attention to me. I choose to love you." He can feel his heart skip a beat as you grin. "And you can't stop me from loving you, you should know that."

He shoves your face back to his chest as you let out a muffled 'oof'

You can hear his heart beating faster, making you smile

Oh, how you love this man

You wrap your arms around him and giggle

"I guess I need to wait until you get sick again to get your affection like this,"

"Oh, shut up."

I just love this man so much

#mashle #magic and muscles #mash burnedead #lance crown #rayne ames #mashle x reader #headcanon #rayne ames x reader #lance crown x reader #mash burnedead x reader

1K notes · View notes

barcaatthemoon · 21 days

Text

third party ii || ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader ||

mapi chases after you the when you try to run the morning after, and you're happy that she did.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

running was like second nature to you. ingrid knew from before that you wouldn't be there when they woke up. she could sit there all she wanted while she comforted mapi and wish that you had the sense to stay, but it wouldn't change anything. you'd still get scared the next morning, and it was easier for everybody if you left quietly.

ingrid was grateful that you had learned how to truly sneak out. mapi would have fought with you on staying, and ingrid knew that. she knew from the angry tears that stained mapi's pillow as she cried over you. ingrid wanted to be mad at you, but she just found herself feeling sorry for you.

"i don't understand. we were having a good time, why would she just leave like that?" mapi had stopped crying, which ingrid was grateful for, but now mapi was trying to figure out where she might have went wrong. "was it too much?"

"in a way. (y/n) has some problems that i thought she worked through, but it's okay. i think it's best that we forget about this for the time being," ingrid tried. mapi shook her head and pushed her way out of bed. ingrid couldn't do anything except for watch as mapi made herself look presentable.

"i'm going to (y/n)'s. i'd like if you would come with me, but you don't have to," mapi said.

"give me a few minutes to get ready." mapi tried to hold back her smile, but ingrid caught the woman absolutely beaming. the thought of going to you scared ingrid, who had always just given you space whenever you ran away. ingrid knew that you were a runner, and she had always been doubtful about her own ability to keep up with you if you got scared. it was easier to be left behind if she didn't try to chase you.

if mapi could tell that ingrid was nervous, the spanish defender didn't bring it up. instead, she just idly chatted with ingrid about all sorts of random things that ingrid was 85% sure mapi had already told her throughout the week. there had definitely been days whenever ingrid got slightly annoyed with the way mapi was constantly talking, but today it was a welcome distraction.

"what is she doing here?" mapi questioned as she looked at the way that you and fridolina were talking to each other. you hung off of her side a little, clinging to the older woman for comfort. mapi's brows furrowed with jealousy, hurt, and anger, all of which were hidden by the stoic expression mapi held. "the morning after!"

"mapi, it's not what you think," ingrid reassured her girlfriend. fridolina had always been very protective over you in a way that ingrid knew meant she'd never try something. fridolina was one of the only players who ingrid knew to have genuinely rejected you before, and after that, you had been taken under the blonde's wing like her little sister.

"let's just leave," mapi mumbled, suddenly defeated. ingrid was quick to stop mapi from driving off. mapi watched as ingrid got out of the car and ran over to you. against her better judgement, mapi got out of the car and followed her partner.

"i had really been hoping you had grown out of this," ingrid said as she pulled you in for a hug. you glanced over at fridolina with fear in your eyes. it should have been relief that for once, ingrid had come after you, but you were terrified. you could see mapi in the back, just standing there looking absolutely flabbergasted. "go apologize to maria and come back with us."

"you've never come back for me before, what's different?" you asked her. ingrid didn't answer you, instead just pointing at mapi. you bit your lip as you contemplated your next move. it was easy enough to decide to go to her, approaching cautiously like you were afraid that she'd run. "i'm sorry for leaving this morning without telling you. it was all so nice, i got scared."

"you don't have to be scared. i would have had ingrid tell you to leave if i didn't want you there with us. i like you, a lot, and so does ingrid. it doesn't have to be complicated, it can just be us," mapi offered.

"i'd really like that."

…

"mapi, vamos!" you yelled out as you and ingrid settled on the couch together. there was a small spot for the defender to cuddle up with the two of you if she wanted. after a lot of haggling, you had finally convinced mapi to sit in with you and ingrid for your favorite weekly reality tv show.

it had been difficult getting the channel from germany, but you were so excited. ingrid hadn't been keeping up like you had, but that wasn't anything that a couple of weekends in couldn't fix. now, the two of you were all caught up to watch the episodes as they aired. it was nice and exciting, something that you used to do with ingrid when the two of you had been just friends.

"i don't know why i have to be here, it's not like i know what's going on," mapi grumbled. she sat with the two of you on the couch for the whole episode, despite not knowing what was going.

each time that you or ingrid glanced over at mapi, she was pouting. you weren't sure when the idea to tease her popped into your head, but ingrid seemed to have the same one. mapi was on the other side of you with bagheera, attention almost solely on the cat. out of the corner of her eye, she could still see the two of you as you began to feel each other up.

"hey! this isn't fair," mapi whined almost immediately. ingrid moved from beneath you and over to mapi's other side. mapi dropped bagheera quickly to make room for ingrid to move closer. ingrid had mapi's full attention, which gave you the perfect opportunity to slide your hands up the back of mapi's tank top. she lifted her arms to let you take it off of her.

ingrid leaned down to take one of mapi's nipples into her mouth. mapi's head fell back, causing her to lean back against you. your hand wrapped around her side to tease the nipple ingrid wasn't paying attention to. mapi didn't know what to do with herself other than sit back and enjoy the attention from the two of you.

most of mapi's time in bed was spent trying to make the two of you cum. she did allow for moments like this, but she never asked for them. both you and ingrid knew exactly what to do, and mapi thought she died and was on her way to heaven when she looked down between her legs to see both you and ingrid hungrily eyeing her up.

it was a slightly inefficient display as the two of you switched from making out with each other to taking turns tasting mapi. still, the sight of it all made mapi absolutely drenched, practically dripping onto the couch beneath her. you could hear rapid spanish curses fall from mapi's lips as ingrid's fingers plunged inside of the woman. you let mapi and ingrid's hands hold your head to mapi's cunt, lips firmly locked onto her clit. there wasn't anywhere else in the world you would have rather been than between the two of them, which made you feel silly for having tried to run all those months ago. you had found your people in mapi and ingrid.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #minors do not interact #minors dni #ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen smut #ingrid engen imagine #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon smut #mapi leon x reader

453 notes · View notes

woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Injured (Alexia's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You need perfection

TW: eating disorder, self-destructive thoughts, unhealthy thoughts about weight and size, self-harm through dance

There's a reason the ballerina body is thought to be unobtainable.

It's because it is.

Even to the dancers.

Perfect feet. Perfect legs. Perfect waist. Perfect stomach. Perfect face and hair.

You didn't have the perfect feet. Your arch wasn't quite perfect. It was close but with the right shoes it looked perfect.

Your legs weren't quite perfect either. You think one of your knees bulges weirdly and one leg is the tiniest bit more muscular than the other. But that can be hidden under your tights.

You don't like your waist or your tummy. You're different to your Mami but you're built a bit like her. She's built like a football player where she doesn't need to care about her waist or her stomach like you did.

You could fix your face with makeup and your hair with product but you couldn't fix your biology. You couldn't fix the way you've developed.

When you were younger and still at ballet school, the older girls passed down one line of wisdom to the younger girls.

If you weren't thin enough to fit between the space of the barre and where it's mounted on the mirror, then you're too fat.

You know now that that's too small of a gap for anyone to fit through without tucking in their tummy to the extreme. You know that now but it's still embedded within you. It still haunts your every step, a looming figure in the shadows that will one day catch up with you.

Some of the other dancers smoke or vape to keep their figures but you took the more classic route.

It was easy to cut breakfast out. A protein bar sufficed as your lunch, maybe a pre-packaged salad as well. You would eat dinner because that was a family meal and, while you were desperately trying to keep your figure, you knew that eating at least one meal a day was good.

It worked like a charm though and soon your stomach shrunk to the point that having one meal a day was all you could stomach.

"Why are you still asleep?" Jaume asks as he throws himself onto your bed," It's nearly dinner."

You groan, poking your head out from your blanket cave. "I was napping. I'm allowed to nap."

You've been napping a lot lately but you're used to that. Whenever you start cutting out meals, you feel the need to nap more to conserve your energy.

"Mami told me to come get you," Jaume replies," Dinner's almost ready."

You pull the covers off before freezing.

"Jaume," You say," Are you wearing your dirty football boots? In my bed?"

He grins. "Yeah."

"Get out!"

"Oh, come on, it was just a joke!"

You smack him in the face with a pillow. "I'm telling Mami!"

He scrambles after you, trying to stop you from making it down the stairs.

"She's lying!" He cries out, skidding to the dinner table just as you arrive.

"Jaume wore his dirty football boots in my bed!" You announce and Alexia sighs.

"Just one day," She says wistfully to Olga," That's all I ask. Just one day of no arguments."

She scolds Jaume lightly over the meal and you pick at your food.

Alexia watches you out of the corner of her eye. This meal is your favourite but you're pecking at it like you're a pigeon.

"How was dance?" She asks.

You shrug, grateful for the opportunity to talk as you push the food around your plate. "Good. I'm going back in after dinner. I'm going to practice my solo."

Olga frowns just like Alexia. "You've been doing that all week. Don't you think you need a break?"

"It won't be for that long," You lie," I want to get it perfect."

Perfection has always been a big part of your life. If you have perfection then you've proven your worth. If you have perfection then you cannot be replaced.

If you perfection in your dancing, in your body, then everything will be good and right in the world.

If you have perfection then you'll never be forgotten again.

Alexia watches you, eyes narrowed before she starts helping Olga clear the table.

"Jaume," You hiss," You want this?" You offer him your plate.

He glanced over to where Olga and Alexia have their backs turned.

"Give."

You scrape the rest of your food onto his plate before getting up quickly.

"I'm heading to the studio," You say.

"I'll drive you," Alexia says.

"I'll walk." You're actually planning to jog. "I want to grab a snack from the store on the way."

There's a reason Mami hasn't found out yet. You've gone back and forth on this for years. Cutting out meals before a performance only to introduce them again a few weeks after. You know exactly how to play her.

It's easy to slip away just like it's easy to dance and dance and dance until your feet ache.

There's something about pointe work that you love. It's a hard discipline. Nobody outright loves it like you do. You don't think they'd understand why you love it.

You love it for the wrong reasons.

You love it because it makes your feet hurt. You love it because it makes you look good even when you're falling apart. You love it because it makes you feel perfect even when you know you're not.

You love it because it's the quickest way to make you bleed.

Your chest rises and falls as you feel your toe pads grow wet with your own blood. Your vision is full of spots and you can barely see yourself in the mirror.

All you can focus on is your next move and the pain in your feet.

All you can do is dance and dance and-

You're on the floor the next time you blink, feeling groggy as your stomach rumbles. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror as you crawl your way over to your bag, shakily unwrapping an energy bar.

You pull off your pointe shoes and toe pads.

This is so normal to you now that you don't even think about the fact that you just blacked out.

You eat your snack, drain down your sports drink and wrap plasters around your bleeding toes as you dial Mami's number.

She picks up quickly, like always. You can imagine her just sitting at home, waiting for your call.

"Bambi?" She asks as soon as she answers," What's up?"

"Can you come and pick me up?" You ask," I'd like to come home now."

Alexia's already grabbing her keys. Her shoes are already on. She's already out the door.

Something's up with you. She knows this. She just doesn't know what it is. But she knows she'll always be ready to pick you up. Always want to bring you home herself.

You look pale and shaky as she pulls up and, like usual after practice, your bare feet are out of your shoes. They're covered in plasters.

"Did you get your snack?" Alexia asks," You look a little pale."

"I did," You reply," I was just dancing a lot."

"Hmm," Alexia says," You know you can talk to me, right? You know you can tell me anything."

"I know," You say.

"Good. Just...Good. You're a good girl, bambi, and I want you to come to me if you need to talk, alright?"

"I know, Mami," You say with an eye roll.

Alexia holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. "Good. Now, your brother wants a milkshake. Do you want anything at the drive through?"

Your tummy rumbles.

"A meal then," Alexia decides before you can protest," A burger I think. Greasy."

You wince. "Mami-"

"You gave half your dinner to Jaume," She says suddenly," I'll split the meal but it's non-negotiable."

It's fine, you think.

So long as you get to practice early tomorrow, you can work it all off.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

700 notes · View notes