#like I get if it’s not your cup of tea but there were some good ones.

[caitlinsnicket]

viktor relationship headcanons

warnings: if you squint, you might see something a little intimate, but other than suggestions, there's nothing.

a/n: surprised myself by not only writing this so quickly but also by not including any filth. wow.

masterlist | 🍉 | ko-fi

He lives for shoulder kisses, treating them as a sort of stress reliever.

You visit his lab, bringing him a cup of tea (to make him sleepier and get him to bed quicker), and as you pass by, you lean down to kiss his shoulder.

Even through his shirt, he can feel your warmth, and as you leave, he manages to relax a little more.

Sometimes, before you go, he'll hold your hand and kiss your knuckles, his lips wandering down your wrist and arm until you start pulling him away from the workbench.

On good days—the days when he doesn’t feel as much pain or discomfort just from breathing—he asks for your help removing the harness he wears around his middle section.

He doesn’t actually need the help, but he loves the way your skin feels against his, especially during such an intimate moment, and he savors every second with you.

Putting the harness back on is a hassle, but it’s easier now because you understand.

It’s one thing to force your help on him, and another to ask if he needs it. He appreciates that you ask—and that you back off when he tells you to.

Another bittersweet aspect of your relationship is that he’s always cold. While it’s uncomfortable for him when he’s alone, it’s the best thing in the world when you’re around.

He’ll shiver slightly, and you’ll appear out of nowhere, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and pulling him close, tucking his hands under your thighs and kissing his nose until he’s boiling hot.

You also insist that he drink more warm beverages (except coffee—you banned that from your apartment ages ago), wear thicker clothes, and even use masks in the lab because his colds are always worse than expected.

Viktor insists he’s a grown man perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but when you hold his hands in yours and blow on them, he swallows his pride and lets you. Your love comes in waves like these, and he’s learned to catch as much of it as he can.

He doesn’t pay much attention to his appearance. While that unintentionally makes him a hundred times more attractive, it becomes a problem as he grows more important. It’s hard to explain that he can’t show up to an important meeting looking disheveled and that he needs to fix his hair before leaving the house.

So, you sit him down on the little bench you use to get ready yourself, using some of your products to tame his hair, smoothing down stray locks and ensuring he looks polished. The entire time, he fights to stay awake because of your gentle touch, eventually resting his face against your belly and breathing you in.

When you’re done, it’s a bit hard to get him up and out the door, but you manage by peppering kisses on his cheeks and nose. His heart races at your affection, and he promises to return as soon as possible so the two of you can be together again.

At some point, while redecorating the apartment for the millionth time, a picture falls out of one of his books: it’s him as a child, holding up a toy boat with a huge smile on his face. The sight makes you momentarily consider starting a family right then and there, so you call him over to show him.

He stutters, trying to snatch the photo from your hands, but you stop him, giggling at his embarrassed expression.

"You were so cute as a kid! I mean, you still are, but you looked so small! Baby Vik!" you tease, and he buries his face in his hands.

You end up framing the photo and hanging it on the living room wall, right beside one of your own.

But his absolute favorite thing the two of you do together is bathing. He never saw the point of it before—showering was easier and more practical—but now, he needs at least one bath a week just to keep going.

You fill the bathroom with bubbles, scents, and soaps, and he gets to sit back and relax with you in the warm water (which soothes his pain) in a dimly lit room. He loves it: your hands gently touching him, the care you take to ensure he’s comfortable and content in the tub, and even washing his hair for him.

He finds it almost pathetic how completely in love he is with you.

[mingi-s-dimples]

Under their control - sanhwa

KINKTOBER DAY 22, REQ. BY anon

~"Would love a mommy!hwa x female reader x daddy!San fic! Hwa's not female, he just has a maternal vibe/ aura. The reader lives with them and is their (human)pet. They like to dress the reader in cute lingerie and collar and leash. A fic where the reader is getting punished for something (you can decide what) and they keep denying her orgasm. Some size kink, double penetration, fake sympathy, pet names. Thank you!"

pairing: mommy soft dom!seonghwa x fem reader x daddy rough dom!san

genre: 18+, filth, mommy/daddy bdsm trope

summary: you get on San's nerves again... which has always proved to not be a good idea.

wc: 7.1k

warnings: harsh/rough dom!san, soft dom!seonghwa, daddy!san, mommy!seonghwa, denied orgasms, pussy eating, marking, making out, double penetration, collar and leash, slight size kink, fake sympathy, lots of cum in the end, a crumb of aftecare in the end, teasing, pet names (kitten, darling, sweetheart..), ass spanking, unprotected, completely consensual, blowjob, handjob, for sure forgot something.. will edit 'warnings' later.

Author's Note: I looveeed writing this one... you can tell by the number of words LMAO. I hope you like it anon.. I'm sorry it took me fucking ages (I'm sorry to everyone ajsnda). I hope y'all like it <3 i love youuu

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the members.

The sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains of the shared bedroom, casting soft golden streaks across the plush duvet. The atmosphere was a mixture of warmth and tranquility, the faint scent of lavender lingering from the candle Seonghwa had lit the previous night. You stirred, shifting against the soft bedding, your cheek brushing the smooth pillowcase.

“Good morning, baby,” came Seonghwa’s voice, gentle and melodic, as he entered the room. His arms cradled a tray holding a cup of tea and a small plate with neatly arranged fruit slices. “It’s time to wake up.”  

You blinked, squinting against the morning light, and smiled sleepily at the sight of him. He was always the first to greet you in the mornings, his nurturing presence like a soothing balm. He set the tray down on the nightstand, leaning in to press a feather-light kiss to your forehead.  

“How did my little one sleep?” he asked, brushing stray strands of hair from your face.  

“Good,” you murmured, your voice still groggy. You nuzzled into his touch, relishing the tenderness he always exuded.  

“You have a busy day ahead,” he reminded, his lips curving into a small smile. “San wants you ready and downstairs in half an hour. You know how he feels about being late.”  

San. Just the mention of him sent a small shiver down your spine—not entirely out of fear, but because of the way his presence filled every room he walked into. Where Seonghwa was soft and soothing, San was sharp, commanding. You felt the dichotomy of their dynamics every day, a constant interplay of comfort and authority.  

“I’ll get up,” you promised, sitting up slowly and letting the blankets pool around your waist.  

Seonghwa nodded, pleased with your obedience. “Good girl,” he said softly.  

—

By the time you reached the kitchen, the smell of coffee had filled the space. San was already there, standing by the counter in a crisp black shirt that fit him a little too perfectly. He glanced up when you entered, his dark eyes immediately locking onto you.  

“You’re late,” he said, his tone even but with that familiar edge of authority.  

Your heart sank. You’d only taken a few extra minutes, but with San, those small delays were never overlooked.  

“I—I didn’t mean to,” you stammered, casting a quick glance at Seonghwa, who had taken a seat by the table and was watching the interaction unfold with a faint smile.  

San’s brow arched, and he stepped closer, his presence looming in a way that made your pulse quicken. “Didn’t mean to?” he repeated, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “Sweetheart, how many times have we talked about this?”  

You fidgeted, your fingers twisting together. “A lot,” you admitted quietly.  

“And yet here you are.” He reached out, lifting your chin with two fingers so that you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “What am I supposed to do with you, kitten? Hmm?”  

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you offered weakly.  

San’s lips curved into a smirk that was anything but kind. “Oh, darling. You’ll be sorry, alright?”  

Seonghwa let out a soft chuckle from his seat, his voice lilting with amusement. “Be gentle, San. You know how sensitive she is.”  

San shot him a look, but it was devoid of any real irritation. “Oh, I’ll be gentle,” he said, his attention returning to you. “At least at first.”  

— 

The mistake had been minor in the grand scheme of things, but San never let the small things slide. It was his way of keeping you in line, as he so often reminded you.  

“Upstairs. Now,” he ordered, his voice firm.  

You hesitated for a split second, but the sharpness in his eyes spurred you into motion. You turned and hurried up the stairs, your heart pounding in anticipation.  

By the time you reached the bedroom, you could already hear his measured footsteps behind you. Seonghwa had stayed behind in the kitchen, but you knew he would come up eventually. He always liked to play the role of the sympathetic observer or maybe join in, offering soft words of comfort after San was done.  

San closed the door behind him with a deliberate click, the sound sending a jolt of nervous energy through you.  

“On the bed,” he instructed, his voice low.  

You obeyed, climbing onto the bed and sitting back on your heels. Your collar—a delicate, silver chain adorned with a small charm—felt heavier around your neck under his intense gaze. You'd always wear it whenever you were at home for a couple of days, free of work.

“Do you know why you’re being punished?” he asked, crossing his arms as he stood at the foot of the bed.  

“Yes,” you replied softly.  

“Yes, what?”  

“Yes, Daddy.”  

His smirk widened, pleased by your submission. “That’s right, baby girl.”  

He moved closer, his hand reaching out to trail a finger along the edge of your collar. “This little thing,” he murmured, his tone deceptively soft, “means you follow the rules. Doesn’t it?”  

You nodded, your breath hitching as his finger traced down to the hollow of your throat.  

“And what happens when you break the rules?” he pulls you by yourbneck

“I get punished,” you whispered.  

“That’s my good girl,” he said, his voice dripping with false affection. “At least you remember that much.”

San’s hand moved down to your waist, his grip firm but not harsh. He turned you slightly, positioning you so that you were kneeling on the bed with your back to him. Before you could anticipate his next move, the sharp sound of his palm meeting your ass filled the room, making you gasp.  

“Late again,” he said, his tone a mixture of mock exasperation and amusement. “You never learn, do you?”  

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling.  

“Sorry?” San repeated, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on the spot he’d just slapped. “Do you think that makes up for wasting my time, kitten?”  

Your head hung low, shame and guilt swirling in your chest. “No, Daddy.”  

“Hmm, no, it doesn’t,” he agreed, the false sympathy in his voice sending shivers down your spine. His other hand gripped your chin, tilting your face back toward him. “But I’ll humor you. Tell me why you think you deserve my forgiveness.”  

The words caught in your throat, your eyes darting toward the door as if silently begging for intervention. As if on cue, the door opened, and Seonghwa stepped in, his presence a balm to the tension that had built in the room.  

“San,” he said softly, his melodic voice breaking through the thick atmosphere. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on her?”  

San didn’t loosen his grip on you, but his lips twitched in a faint smirk. “A little harsh? Maybe. But I like to think it gets the point across.”  

Seonghwa crossed the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was trying not to spook you. He came up behind you, his warm hands resting gently on your shoulders. “Our little one just needs guidance,” he murmured, leaning down so that his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Not to be broken.”  

The contrast between them was striking. Where San’s touch was firm and commanding, Seonghwa’s was a soothing, grounding you even as your nerves buzzed. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you back into his chest from San's grip and you felt a small measure of safety return.  

San clicked his tongue, his amusement clear. “You spoil her too much, Hwa. That’s why she thinks she can get away with being late.”  

Seonghwa chuckled, his voice vibrating against your back. “Or maybe you’re too quick to punish, San. Have you thought of that?”  

San’s smirk widened, and he stepped closer, his hands slipping to your thighs, squeezing just enough to draw your attention back to him. “I think you’re too soft,” he teased, his gaze meeting Seonghwa’s over your shoulder. “But if you think you can handle her better, why don’t you join me?”  

Your eyes widened, your breath hitching as Seonghwa’s grip around you tightened, his chest pressing more firmly against your back.  

“Join you?” Seonghwa repeated, his tone deceptively light. “You mean to help her, not overwhelm her, right?”  

San shrugged, his hands roaming up your sides with an air of nonchalance. “Depends on how much help she needs.”  

Seonghwa’s lips brushed your temple as he whispered, “Do you trust me, little one?”  

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.  

“Good,” he said, his hands now guiding yours to rest on your thighs, keeping you still. “Let’s remind you how much you’re cared for.”  

San leaned in, his gaze softening just enough to show a flicker of affection beneath his teasing. His hand cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re lucky we’re patient,” he said, though his smirk made it clear he wasn’t entirely serious.  

San’s fingers found the hem of your oversized shirt, his grip impatient as he tugged it over your head. The motion was swift, almost rough, leaving you exposed to the cool air of the room. You gasped softly, instinctively moving to cover yourself, but San’s firm hand stopped you.  

“Ah, ah,” he chided, his dark eyes glittering with authority. “Don’t you dare hide from me.”  

You swallowed hard, your hands falling back to your sides as you trembled under his gaze. His fingers brushed against your skin, cold against the heat that seemed to radiate from you. With deliberate slowness, he reached behind you to unhook your bra, the straps slipping down your shoulders like a whisper.  

Seonghwa, still behind you, caught the discarded garment and leaned down to pick up a delicate, semi-transparent lingerie set that had been neatly laid out on the dresser. His touch was in stark contrast to San’s—gentle, almost reverent, as he guided the soft fabric up your arms.  

“This suits her,” Seonghwa said, his voice low and melodic, as he adjusted the straps on your shoulders with care. The material clung to your body in a way that felt both innocent and intimate, the faint pink hue of the lingerie complementing the flush spreading across your skin.  

San stepped back slightly, his sharp gaze roaming over you, taking in every detail. A low chuckle escaped him as his eyes traveled downward. “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice laced with amusement, “looks like someone’s enjoying herself a little too much.”  

Your face burned as you followed his gaze, horrified to see the evidence of your arousal dampening the linen beneath you.  

“Tell me, kitten,” San teased, kneeling down so his face was level with yours, his smirk growing wider, “is this because of me?” He tilted his head, his voice a mocking coo. “Are you turned on by how rough I am with you?”  

You bit your lip, your body betraying you as another wave of heat pooled in your belly. “Y-Yes,” you admitted, your voice small and shaky, tinged with a whiny neediness you couldn’t control.  

“Of course you are,” San said, his laughter quiet but sharp, as though the answer had only confirmed what he already knew. He leaned in, brushing his lips against your ear as he murmured, “You like being my good little toy, don’t you?”  

Before you could respond, Seonghwa’s warm lips pressed against the back of your neck, trailing down to your shoulders. His movements were slow, deliberate, like he was trying to soothe the trembling mess San had made of you.  

“You’re beautiful,” Seonghwa whispered against your skin, his hands coming to rest gently on your waist. “You don’t have to be afraid, little one. I’ve got you.”  

San stood, his presence still looming even as he moved away. The rustling of fabric drew your attention, and you peeked through lowered lashes to see him unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were unhurried, calculated, the sharp lines of his body coming into view with every undone button.  

“Don’t get too comfortable,” San said, his tone laced with warning as he tossed the shirt aside. “I’m not done with you yet.”  

But even as he spoke, Seonghwa’s soothing touch and soft murmurs anchored you, his lips never ceasing their gentle exploration of your back. The contrast between them—San’s rough edges and Seonghwa’s tender warmth—left you suspended in a whirlwind of sensations, utterly at their mercy.

San's intense gaze darkened as he stepped forward. In one fluid motion, he lifted you effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping around you as though you weighed nothing. A surprised gasp escaped your lips, but San gave you no time to process. He pressed you against the cool wall, the hard surface grounding you against the heat of his body.  

Leaning in, he captured your mouth in a sloppy, possessive kiss, his lips demanding as they moved against yours. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and his tongue claimed you with a roughness that made your head spin. You whimpered softly into the kiss, your hands clutching at his shoulders as if anchoring yourself to him. His muscular body made you feel to tiny and insignificant in front of him… which you absolutely loved.

Behind you, Seonghwa had risen from the bed. His dark eyes lingered on you, and there was no mistaking the tension in his posture—or the strain evident against the fabric of his pants. 

San broke the kiss, his breath hot against your lips as he spoke. “You’re shaking, kitten,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Is this what you wanted? To feel me like this?”  

Before you could answer, he shifted his hold on you, lowering you slowly against him. The hard line of his arousal pressed into you, even through the layers of fabric separating you, drawing a soft, involuntary whine from your throat.  

“Look at you,” he continued, his tone mocking but laced with something deeper. “You can’t even control yourself, can you?”  

“I…” You tried to form words, but the sensation of him, combined with the lingering warmth of Seonghwa’s gaze, made coherent thought impossible.  

As if sensing your overwhelmed state, Seonghwa stepped closer, his hands resting lightly on your arms before trailing down to your sides. His lips found the sensitive curve of your shoulder, pressing soft kisses there that sent shivers through your body.  

San’s smirk widened as his hand began to wander, sliding down between your legs with deliberate slowness. The anticipation built with every second, your breath hitching as he teased you with light, fleeting touches.  

“You’re so sensitive,” he observed, his tone equal parts amusement and pride. “Does this drive you crazy, kitten?”  

You nodded weakly, your knees threatening to buckle under the combined assault of San’s rough, confident movements and Seonghwa’s tender, reassuring touch.  

San’s fingers pressed inside your cunt more firmly now, the motion drawing soft, breathy sounds from you. “Of course, it does,” he said, his voice a low growl. “You love when I take control, don’t you?”  

“Yes,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as the sensations began to overwhelm you.  

San's smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips latching onto the soft skin of your collarbone. He kissed with purpose, his mouth warm and insistent, leaving behind marks that you knew would bloom into faint bruises later. Each kiss was a deliberate claim, his teeth grazing your skin, tongue soothing over where he’d nipped.  

You gasped, tilting your head instinctively to give him more access, but San wasn’t gentle—he didn’t need to be. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you in place as his lips trailed upwards to the curve of your neck. Each mark he left ignited sparks that coursed through your body, a reminder of his overwhelming presence.  

“Don’t squirm,” San muttered against your skin, his voice low and commanding. His teeth scraped lightly over the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you shudder.  

In your haze, you barely registered the soft rustle of fabric as San’s hand moved lower. With calculated ease, he discarded the last barrier between his body and yours, the subtle shift in his stance making his actions unmistakable.  

Seonghwa’s lips pressed softly to the top of your head, his voice like silk as he whispered, “Breathe, let him take care of you.”  

But San’s idea of care was far from gentle. He straightened, his chest brushing against yours as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes burned with intensity, the smirk on his lips equal parts teasing and predatory.  

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his tone rough but quiet, meant only for you. His hands tightened their grip on your hips, holding you securely against him.  

San's hand traveled between your legs and as his fingers found their way to your folds, he pumped them in a couple of times, your head lolling back at the feeling. When he decided that you were prepped enough - which you weren't, but he was damn impatient - he lowered you on his cock, fully thrusting it in.  

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and dripping with mockery. “Barely holding yourself together, aren’t you, kitten?”  

You whimpered softly, your lips parted as you tried to form words, but the overwhelming sensations left you mute.  

“Come on,” San coaxed, his tone sharp yet teasing. “Use your words. What’s the matter? Too much for you already?”  

“D-Daddy…” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as you gazed up at him, your hands weakly clutching at his shoulders.  

San let out a low chuckle, leaning back just enough to look you over, his smirk widening as he saw the dazed, almost helpless expression on your face. “Daddy, huh?” he repeated mockingly. “You think that’s going to make me go easy on you?”  

Your breath hitched, and you shook your head weakly, earning another sharp laugh from him.  

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his tone dripping with authority. He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You like this, don’t you? Being so completely at my mercy?”  

You nodded hesitantly, and his smirk grew even more wicked.  

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice taking on a harder edge. “Tell me how much you love it when Daddy takes control.”  

“I-I love it,” you stammered, your voice breaking under the weight of his dominance.  

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, his tone mockingly sweet as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re such a mess for me, aren’t you? Completely ruined, and we’re not even done yet.”  

You whimpered again, your body trembling under his touch.  

“Pathetic,” he said with a smirk, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. “Completely pathetic, and yet you’re still begging for more. Aren’t you?”  

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but he heard it nonetheless.  

San leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Good. Because I’m nowhere near finished with you, kitten.” 

Seonghwa’s quiet observation eventually broke, his low, velvety voice cutting through the room. “What exactly do you have planned for her, San?” he asked, his tone calm and curious, though there was an underlying edge of amusement.  

San didn’t stop, his movements as deliberate and sharp as his personality. His grip tightened on your hips as he responded, his voice coming out in low, ragged breaths between his thrusts. “Oh, I have plans,” he said, his smirk audible even without seeing his face.  

Seonghwa raised a brow, stepping closer now, his own hand still lazily tracing over himself, watching you keenly. “Care to elaborate?”  

San let out a soft chuckle, his breath ghosting against your ear as he answered, “I plan to ruin her.” His words were teasing, almost cruel in their intent. “She’s going to beg for me, for everything. More than she’s ever begged before.”  

Your body trembled at his words, the promise in them sending a fresh wave of tension through you. San leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued, his voice dropping lower. “And just when she thinks I’ll give her what she wants…” He paused, his grip on you tightening briefly for emphasis. “…I won’t.”  

Seonghwa’s smirk grew, his gaze flicking between you and San with quiet interest. “Cruel, as always,” 

San chuckled again, this time with more satisfaction, his rhythm unrelenting as he added, “She likes it. Don’t you, kitten?”  

Your response was a breathless whimper, your head lolling against San’s shoulder as your body surrendered to the overwhelming mix of sensations. 

“Let’s see how patient are you, my love… are you going to be more patient than I was?” San cooed, holding you close to him as he pulled out and dropped you in the bed powerfully, towering over you. “Let’s see if it was worth being late, darling.” he leaned in for a kiss, then raised your hips above his, letting them rest. 

San’s gaze bore into yours, the stormy intensity in his eyes enough to make your breath hitch. He didn’t move right away, letting the tension stretch thin in the air between you, his hand firm on your hip as he held you in place. His lips, so close to yours, hovered without touching, teasing you with the ghost of a promise.  

“You’ve been testing me all week, haven’t you?” San murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers racing down your spine.

He trailed his hand down, the roughness of his palm against your skin a stark contrast to the tenderness of his words. But just as you leaned into him, aching for more, San pulled back slightly, his smirk sharp and deliberate.  

Seonghwa’s soft chuckle reached your ears, his tone laced with amused approval. “You’re relentless, San,” he remarked, though his attention never strayed far from you. There was an edge of curiosity to his voice, as if he was enjoying watching the dynamic unfold.  

San glanced at Seonghwa briefly, his lips quirking in a sly grin before his focus returned to you. “Relentless,” he echoed, his tone filled with dark satisfaction. “But that’s what she likes, isn’t it?” His fingers tightened against your skin just enough to make your pulse quicken. 

You barely managed a breathy response, your body trembling with anticipation. San tilted his head, his lips finally brushing yours in a kiss that was as fleeting as it was intoxicating.  

“Patience, kitten,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and commanding. “You’ll get what you want... but only when I decide you’ve earned it.”

San’s smirk deepened as he glanced at Seonghwa, his sharp gaze glinting with mischief. “Why don’t you join us?” he murmured, his voice dripping with invitation and challenge. 

Seonghwa hesitated for only a moment, his piercing eyes locking with San’s before sliding down to meet yours. There was something almost reverent in his expression as he moved closer, his hand brushing over your arm to guide you gently yet firmly.  

“Lean back,” Seonghwa instructed softly, his voice a rich contrast to San’s rough edges. His hands guided you until you were resting against him, his firm chest a solid support behind you. His thighs framed yours, his presence grounding you even as your heart raced.  

San hummed approvingly, his smirk never faltering as he knelt between your legs, his gaze intense as it roamed over you. “Perfect,” he muttered, his hands tracing up your thighs with deliberate slowness, his touch a stark contrast to Seonghwa’s steady, grounding hold.  

Seonghwa’s fingers brushed over your shoulders, his breath warm against your temple as he murmured, “Relax, love.” The soothing timbre of his voice made it impossible not to sink into him, even as San’s movements sent sparks racing through you.  

San’s lips found your thighs, his kisses starting feather-light before growing more deliberate. His chin grazed your skin as he nipped at the sensitive flesh, each touch both a tease and a promise. He looked up at you, his dark eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “I’ll make sure you don’t forget this.”  

Your breath hitched as Seonghwa’s hands slid down your arms, his grip firm yet reassuring. “Breathe,” he murmured, his voice steady, as though coaxing you to surrender completely to the moment.  

San’s lips moved closer to your cunt, but he paused just before reaching where you wanted him most, his smirk widening at your involuntary whimper. “Not so fast, kitten,” he teased, his voice a rough purr. “I’m just getting started.”

When his mouth finally started to suck on your clit, a sharp gasp escaped you, your back arching instinctively against Seonghwa’s chest. San didn’t hold back, his lips moving with deliberate, hungry intent as he ate you out, sending shockwaves through your entire body.  

His roughness was intoxicating, every motion designed to pull you deeper into the haze he was creating. He groaned softly against you, the vibration adding an unexpected layer of pleasure that made you tremble.  

Seonghwa’s breath hitched behind you, his hard cock, undeniable where you were pressed against him. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you as you writhed under San’s relentless attention. “You’re driving her mad,” Seonghwa murmured, his voice thick with something between awe and desire.  

San pulled back just enough to respond, his lips glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin. “That’s the point,” he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. Without waiting for a reply, he delved back in, his tongue pressing against you with a roughness that had your fingers clawing at Seonghwa’s thighs for purchase.  

Every flick, every deliberate drag of San’s tongue against your clit, sent you spiraling further. He alternated between sucking on it and licking with a ferocity that made it impossible to hold still. Seonghwa’s grip tightened on you as if anchoring you to reality, his lips brushing your temple in an attempt to soothe the chaos San was stirring within you.  

“You’re so responsive,” San rasped against you between movements, his tone full of pride and teasing affection. “Just look at you… falling apart already.”  

You could barely process his words, the sensations too overwhelming, too consuming. The heat of Seonghwa’s body behind you and the rough, unrelenting intensity of San in front of you created a heady mix that left you utterly at their mercy.  

San abruptly pulled back, his lips glistening, leaving you teetering on the edge of your orgasm. The sudden absence of his touch was a shock, and you whimpered, your hips instinctively tilting forward to chase the sensation. His smirk was devastatingly smug as he leaned back on his knees, wiping the corner of his mouth with a thumb.  

“Not yet, kitten,” he drawled, his voice thick with command. “I told you, you don’t get to have it until I decide you’ve earned it.” His gaze flickered up to yours, dark and unyielding.  

You shook your head, defiance flickering through the haze of desire. “N-no,” you murmured, a stubborn edge creeping into your voice, even as your body trembled with need.  

San chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “No?” he repeated, his tone mocking, his grin widening as though you’d just issued him a delightful challenge. “How adorable. You think you’re in control here?”  

He reached out, his hand gripping your chin firmly, tilting your face toward him as he loomed closer. “Say it again,” he commanded softly, his tone laced with dangerous amusement.  

Before you could respond, San turned to Seonghwa, his voice shifting to a calm authority. “Seonghwa, get undressed and take her.”  

Seonghwa nodded without hesitation, his movements smooth and fluid as he stripped off his shirt and then his pants. Unlike San’s intensity, there was a softness to him, a gentler energy that eased the tension coursing through you.  

“Come here,” Seonghwa murmured, his hands reaching for you as he effortlessly lifted you onto his lap. His touch was steady, his hands warm and soothing against your skin. Seated against him, his bare chest pressing into your back, the stark contrast between his tenderness and San’s roughness was grounding.  

San sat back on his heels, watching with a smirk that told you he wasn’t done playing with you yet. “Let’s see if she behaves better for you,” he teased, his tone dripping with dominance as his eyes stayed locked on yours. “But don’t go too soft, Hwa. She needs to learn what happens when she tries to defy me.”  

Seonghwa shifted beneath you, his hands steady on your hips as he aligned himself with your hole. His lips brushed against your shoulder, soft and reassuring, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. “Relax for me, love,” he murmured, his voice calm yet filled with anticipation.  

San, seated to the side, leaned back slightly, his hand lazily stroking himself, cock dripping with precum as his sharp eyes stayed glued to the scene in front of him. “That’s it, Hwa,” he purred.“Show her how gentle can still make her squirm.”  

Seonghwa’s movements were slow, deliberate, as though savoring every second of the moment. You shuddered at the sensation, your body caught between his tenderness and San’s burning gaze. San’s breath hitched audibly, a low groan escaping him as he watched, the sight clearly fueling his own pleasure.  

“You look so pretty like this,” San teased, his voice dripping with dominance. “Caught between us… exactly where you’re meant to be.”

Seonghwa’s pace grew more measured, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, “You’re doing so well.” His fingers pressed into your hips, grounding you, his every movement pulling you closer to the edge. Your body trembled, anticipation building as you surrendered to the steady rhythm he set.  

Just as the high began to crest, San’s voice cut through the haze. “Stop.”  

The word was sharp, commanding, and immediate. Seonghwa stilled instantly, his hands retreating as he pulled out, leaving you gasping and teetering on the brink.  

“No, please,” you begged, turning your desperate gaze to San. “Don’t stop now. Let me—please, I need to—”  

San leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he brushed his fingers along your cheek. “Need to?” he mused, his tone deceptively soft. “That’s rich, coming from someone who spent all week defying me. Do you think you’ve earned the right to finish?”  

You shook your head, swallowing the lump of frustration and desire in your throat. “I’ll do better, I swear.”  

San smirked, his hand tangling in your hair as he guided you to kneel on the edge of the bed. “You’ll prove that now,” he said smoothly, his thumb grazing your lower lip. “Open up.”  

You obeyed, lips parting as he slid himself past them, his cock heavy on your tongue. San’s groan was low, a sound of satisfaction as his hand held you steady. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hips rolling forward just enough to test your limits.  

Behind you, the bed shifted as Seonghwa moved into position, his hands caressing your waist before sliding lower, his warmth against you unmistakable. “Seonghwa… fuck her” San instructed, his voice deepening. “I want her to feel you stretch her out while she sucks me off”  

Seonghwa hummed in acknowledgment, his lips brushing the nape of your neck as he moved against you, his presence filling the space San had left. 

San tilted your chin up slightly, his movements patient but firm. “Keep your eyes on me,” he said, his voice a gentle command. “I want to see how much you enjoy this. How much you’re willing to give.”  

Your muffled whine vibrated against San’s cock as you tried to keep your focus, but the overwhelming combination of sensations was too much to bear. 

San smirked, clearly noticing your struggle, and his grip in your hair tightened slightly, tilting your head for better leverage. “You’re distracted,” he growled. “Let me help you focus.”  

Without warning, San thrust his hips forward, sliding himself deeper into your throat. The sudden intrusion made you gag, your throat tightening reflexively around him as your hands gripped his thighs for stability. San groaned low and deep, the sound vibrating through the room.  

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Taking me so well, even when you’re choking on it. Maybe you’re learning after all.”  

Behind you, Seonghwa’s hands on your hips tightened, his movements stuttering as he felt your body react to San’s forcefulness. Your whimper against San’s cock sent a shiver through Seonghwa, but he stilled himself, obeying the unspoken command to pause until San decided you’d earned more.  

Your throat burned as San held himself deep, his hand flexing against the back of your head, keeping you exactly where he wanted. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t dare pull away. His dominance was intoxicating, even in its intensity.  

When San finally relented, pulling back just enough to let you gasp for air, his thumb stroked your cheek. “Not bad,” he mused, tilting his head. “But you’re not there yet.”  

Seonghwa’s soft whisper reached your ear, grounding you as your chest heaved. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your shoulder.  

San’s sharp gaze flicked to Seonghwa, and he gave a single, measured nod. “Now.”  

Seonghwa didn’t need further instruction. He resumed his movements, his hips rolling forward in a rhythm that made your toes curl. His groan was soft, almost reverent, as he leaned closer, his chest pressed against your back.  

San’s grip in your hair loosened slightly, guiding you back to him. “You’re going to make up for every moment you disobeyed this week,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “And if you’re good enough, maybe—just maybe—I’ll let you finish this time.” 

“M-ngh, San!” your moan revrebrating through his cock. You steadied yourself and held onto his hips, catching your breath as Seonghwa started to fully thrust into you again. 

“What?” he stopped for a second. 

You pulled off San, tears streaming down your cheeks, voice trembling and high-pitched, “Please, San, please! I can’t—please don’t stop again—I need it so bad, I’m begging you!”  

San, gripping your jaw firmly, forcing you to look up at him, his eyes sharp and unyielding, “You’re begging now? After everything this week? After all the times you ignored me, pushed me, defied me?” he lets out a low, mocking laugh, “And now you think whining like this will get you what you want?”  

“I’ll do anything—anything! I swear! Just don’t stop again, please, please!” you begged abd begged, looking up at him in the eyes.

He brushed his thumb over your trembling lips, “Anything, huh? You’re pathetic, you know that? Look at you—crying, shaking, acting like you have no control. But fine. You want a chance? Let’s make a deal.”  

“Yes—yes! Anything..."

“Then.. you’ve got two minutes to make me finish. Two minutes. If you can do that, maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you finish, too. But if you fail? You’ll go the rest of the night without cumming. Do you understand me?”  

"Y-yes...yes!" you whined out.

“Good. Then stop wasting time and prove to me you’re worth it.”  San then grabbed you by your hair, tangling his head and pulling you harshly to his cock.

You position yourself between San’s legs, wasting no time as your hand wraps firmly around his base. Without hesitation, you take his cock into your mouth, deep and fast, like it’s the only thing you’ve ever needed. The warmth and wetness make him groan immediately, his head tilting back as he struggles to keep up with the sheer intensity of your actions.  

Your lips tighten around him, sliding down as far as you can go, your tongue pressing firmly against the underside, hitting the sensitive spots that makes his thighs tense. You don’t hold back..  your movements are fast, relentless, and filled with purpose. Your hand follows where your mouth leaves off, stroking him with a slick, twisting motion, matching the rhythm as your head bobs in a steady, fervent pace.  

You hollow your cheeks, creating a tight suction that pulls another deep groan from him, his hands gripping your hair as his control slips. The sounds you make are shamelessly messy—wet, eager, and desperate—as you take him in deeper with every motion, your throat flexing to handle more.  

His breathing is ragged now, his hips shifting, but you keep control, doubling down as you focus on the sensitive head, swirling your tongue around it in quick, firm strokes before sliding down again, taking him to the base, choking on the tip. You whine softly, the vibrations sending a jolt through him, his voice breaking as he whines out, his body tightening.  

“Ah, fuck… “ he moaned out, his back lolling back in pleasure. 

Let's not forget that Seonghwa was fucking you relentlessly from behind, your walls clenching onto him as he gripped your waist. He was close, you knew it. Breaths ragged near your ear and his hands were holding tight on your skin, but you needed to focus on San… Seonghwa would cum by himself only by fucking you. But San.. oh god, he'd always destroy you before his pleasure. 

“Just like that, kitten..” he said and gripped his hands better in your hair, pulling you as close as possible. Your nose hit his pelvis, throat sore and gagging on his cock. He stood like that for a couple of moments and thrusted slightly even deeper, to which he came right down your throat. You choked on his huge load and pulled back, his cock resting in your tongue as silky white cum was still dripping heavily from the tip. When he was done, he pulled back and lifted your chin, to make you look at him.

“Swallow. Everything.” you did as told and then as he hummed in satisfaction. 

“Now now… Seonghwa, would you mind switching places? Your thrusts are not roug enough, I'm afraid…” San said and lifted you up. In one swift motion he sat you onto his lap, your chest against his. 

Seonghwa’s hands slid down your back as he stepped behind you, his movements deliberate and steady. His grip settled firmly on your hips, fingers splaying over your flushed skin before drifting lower to your ass. He kneaded the soft flesh with a firm but gentle touch, his lips grazing the back of your neck in contrast to San’s unrelenting dominance.

San, already seated with you straddling his lap, tightened his hold on your waist. His fingers pressed into the soft, reddened skin, a mark of his earlier fervor. His eyes burned into yours as he shifted slightly, his voice low and commanding. “Don’t forget who you’re really here for,” he growled, his tone sending shivers down your spine.

With a single, precise motion, San thrust into you fully, his body melding with yours as a broken cry escaped your lips. Seonghwa, aligning himself carefully, followed suit, his movements smoother but no less intense. The contrast between them was electrifying—San’s rough, possessive thrusts pairing with Seonghwa’s controlled rhythm to drive you higher, the two of them moving in tandem as if sharing one unspoken goal.  

San tilted your chin up with one hand, his lips brushing against yours briefly before he spoke. “You’re doing so well, kitten,” he murmured, though his words carried a teasing edge. “But you’re not done yet.”  

Seonghwa groaned behind you, his fingers digging into your skin as his thrusts became sharper, his restraint slipping. The three of you moved in perfect synchronicity, the overwhelming sensations building rapidly until you could no longer hold back. Your cries filled the room as the tension snapped, your body trembling violently as the release overtook you.  

Seonghwa followed closely, his grip tightening as he buried himself fully, his soft groan of pleasure vibrating against your shoulder. He kissed the back of your neck tenderly, his breath warm against your skin, a grounding contrast to the whirlwind you were caught in.  

But San wasn’t finished. His grip on your waist grew firmer as he quickened his pace, chasing his own high even as your overstimulated body quivered against him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he pushed you further, your senses overwhelmed.  

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough with satisfaction as his movements became erratic. “Give me everything.”  

With one final, deep thrust, San found his release, his second high hitting him harder than the first. The intensity of the moment pushed you over the edge again, a sudden, powerful wave washing over you as your body reacted uncontrollably. You gasped as the sensation hit, your body trembling as you squirted, the overstimulation wringing every last drop of energy from you.  

San held you close, his hands firm but steady as he rode out his high, his breath ragged against your neck. “Perfect,” he murmured finally, his tone softening as he kissed your temple. 

As Seonghwa finally pulled out, a soft groan leaving his lips, he shifted to gather you into his arms. His movements were gentle, cradling you as though you were made of glass, his lips pressing against your temple with quiet affection. “You did so well,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.  

San leaned forward, his hand stroking down your back in deliberate, slow motions. A light pat followed, though it carried a teasing edge as he smirked. “Let this be a lesson, kitten,” he said, his tone playful yet firm. “If you ever decide to test me like that again… this is exactly what will happen. Only next time, I won’t go so easy on you.”  

You gave a soft whimper of acknowledgment, too exhausted to do much else, and Seonghwa chuckled behind you. “You’re relentless, San,” he said, though his words carried a fond amusement. His gaze flicked between you and San. “She needs some care now, not another lecture. Why don’t you take her to get cleaned up?”  

San hummed, his grin softening just a fraction as he leaned in to press a kiss against your damp hair. “Fair enough,” he replied before slipping his arms around you, seamlessly lifting you from Seonghwa’s hold and pulling you against his chest. His grip was firm yet comforting, holding you close as he stood.  

“You were perfect today, kitten,” San murmured, his tone uncharacteristically tender as he carried you toward the bathroom. His fingers traced gentle patterns against your back as he continued, “Every second of it. You have no idea how proud I am of you.”  

The warmth of his words and his embrace cocooned you, easing the lingering tension in your body. As San carried you, you caught Seonghwa’s soft smile in the corner of your vision, his quiet presence a steady reassurance even as exhaustion began to pull you under.

NETWORKS: @blossomnet @illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1

[lulunothulu]

“Something More”

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Content: angst, some swearing, suicidal ideation, sadness, HEA though!!!

I’d like to apologize for being MIA, it’s been a rough few weeks/month. I’m trying to make my comeback so bear with me as I try to get through the asks and drafts I have. Thank you for your patience and enjoy some angst with Jakey boy 💗

You were looking out the window, sighing up at the moonlight when Jake found you. You were wrapped in a fluffy blanket and a cup of tea was placed in your hands when he’d walked upstairs to your reading nook.

He watched as you seemingly ignored (or not noticed) his presence and he couldn’t help but smile. It’s been a while since he’d seen you look relaxed. Not since the last mission you were both sent on.

The mission was supposed to be an “in and out” situation. Get the goods, bomb the shelter, and fly out. That’s what Maverick told you both anyway. Though you’d both been dating, you were allowed to fly together. Since no one but Bradley and Natasha knew you were together, you were both able to get away with it.

This mission changed that.

When your jet was shot down, Bradley spilled all the secrets. He told maverick that you’d both been dating, in an attempt to have you both saved at the same time. Jake knew his friend did it to save you both from heartbreak, but also because they would have chosen to save you first—being a woman and all.

Jake didn’t want to think about it.

No, instead he shakes the thoughts out of his head before approaching you with a sly smile. At the creaking of the wood flooring, he watched as your head swung to face him—your hands gripping the mug so tightly your knuckles were turning white.

“I didn’t realize you were standing there,” you said. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nope, just checking on my favorite person.” Jake’s eyes raked down your body, stopping at the boot on your foot. “How’s the foot feeling?”

How are you feeling? He wanted to ask.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” you tell him. You flash him a tight smile before turning back to the window. “What’s the real reason you’re creeping around the house for?”

Jake sighs, taking a moment to kneel next to you before he says his next words.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Not really but I’m dealing with it.”

“We can always—”

“Don’t say it.” He knew you knew what he was going to suggest.

He’d suggested therapy, even couple’s therapy if it made you comfortable. But like the first time he’d suggested it, you closed off. He was the same way when Bradley had told him to start going three months ago. Jake didn’t want to go, he wanted to deal with his feelings himself—just like you were now. But once he’d gone, he couldn’t get enough of it. The feeling of relief he felt after the first visit was enough to get him to change his mind about therapy all together.

“Baby,” he started, trying not to sound too eager or nagging. “I think it’ll really help.”

“Jake,” you started. “Do you know why I don’t want to go? I don’t want to go because I know what they’ll say. I know what happened wasn’t my fault but it feels like it is.”

He watches as your face falls a bit before you compose yourself and sniffle. His heart broke to see you so down and wanting to give up. In the two years you’d been together and the five since he’d known you, you were always so strong. You never cried, never complained. You didn’t even cry when you fell off the ladder going into the back of the jet two years ago and twisted the shit out of your ankle.

No, you were headstrong and unmoving. So to see you uncaring and wanting to give up, hurt him more than anything in the world.

Bullets hurt less than this.

“I shouldn’t have let you fly with me,” Jake whispers, looking down at his hands by your thigh. “I should’ve asked Mav to move you with Bradshaw, forced you to stay behind. I should’ve—”

“You couldn’t have known what was coming,” you tell him. “No one could’ve known.”

“So then why do you take the blame yourself?” He asks you, head shooting up to look at you. “Why can’t you let me take some of the blame?”

“Because I want you to have that peace of mind that you weren’t at fault!” You exclaim, scaring yourself. “I could’ve done better. I should’ve done better.”

Jake takes your hand, putting the mug on the floor away from him. His green eyes search yours for any hint of the person you once were before that awful mission.

But you were gone.

You were there, but you were gone.

The person he fell in love with was broken, maybe just resting behind that broken shell you put out. Your eyes seemed vacant and your face paler than normal, almost a ghost of who had been. He wouldn’t allow it to over take you, he couldn’t.

“You are so much more than what you think you are.” He watches as your eyes water, brows furrowing in thought and sadness. “Our jet getting shot down was not your fault. If anything, it’s our fault.”

“Jake—”

“No,” he starts. “You’re everything I need and where you need to be. Don’t ever think you’re less than that because of a mistake we both made.”

He watches you intently, almost begging with his eyes for you to take in his words. He wanted a reaction, something to show you’d understood his words and took them into your heart.

“You’re so much more than you think you are,” he continued. His eyes water as he says, “I need you to know you’re something more than what you think you are. I need you to know that what happened falls in both of us and if you think you’re a shitty person, then so am I.”

Jake couldn’t contain the tears now. He cried, wiping his eyes quickly before looking and searching yours for any sort of emotion. He was surprised to find that you’d finally shown an ounce of compassion for him—for yourself. Your hands cradle his face before you press your lips against his, kissing him firmly and deeply with tears falling from your eyes.

“Okay,” you tell him. “I’ll try to do better. For you.”

Jake hugs you, burying his face into your neck and inhaling deeply.

“Just so you don’t call yourself a shitty person,” you add with a small chuckle.

He pulls away with a soft smile before pecking you in the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Jake thought you were talking out of your ass to get him to stop crying. But when you asked to join him the next day at his therapy session, he knew you’d meant it. Though he knew it’d take a bit to get you back to how you were before the mission, he was glad you wanted to take the next steps to recover—to heal.

Because he knew you wanted to be more than your failure.

He knew you wanted to get better.

And god, did he pray that you could be. Because he knew you were in there. And he couldn’t wait to see you become something more.

[positivelyholland]

Can we get a Styles-Swift reader! imagine in honor of Liam Payne?

Steady Hands in the Storm

Pairing: Harry Styles x daughter!reader

Genre: slight angst into fluff

Warnings: kinda a heavy one but it has a happy ending

A/N YALL IM BACK Word Count: 7,243

The house was unusually quiet. The kind of silence that feels heavy, pressing down on every surface. You sat at the kitchen table, absentmindedly stirring a spoon through your cup of tea. It had gone cold a while ago, but you hadn’t noticed. Not really. All your focus was on your father, who was sitting across from you.

He was hunched over, elbows on the table, his head in his hands. His curls looked messier than usual, like he hadn’t bothered to tame them today. You’d noticed the little things over the past few days—the way he moved slower, the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. Even the way his voice sounded softer, like the energy had drained out of him.

You knew why, of course. The news had hit everyone hard. Liam Payne, your dad’s former bandmate, had passed away unexpectedly. And even though it had been years since One Direction had been a band, those boys were still family to him. Losing Liam felt like losing a part of himself.

“Dad,” you said softly, your voice barely breaking the stillness.

He didn’t look up, but you saw his shoulders tense slightly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

You sighed, setting your spoon down with a soft clink. You knew him well enough to understand that he wasn’t trying to shut you out. He just didn’t know how to put what he was feeling into words.

So, you decided to try a different approach.

“Do you remember that time Liam came over for Christmas when I was, like, six?” you said, leaning back in your chair. “He spent the whole day teaching me how to do a handstand in the living room. Mum was furious because we kept knocking over the decorations.”

That got a small huff of a laugh out of your dad, though he still didn’t lift his head.

“I thought she was going to banish him from the house forever,” you added with a grin.

“He kept apologizing every five minutes,” your dad muttered, finally looking up. His green eyes were red-rimmed, and you could tell he hadn’t slept much. “But then he’d just… try again. Said you were getting better every time.”

You smiled softly, nodding. “I did get better. All because of him.”

The room fell quiet again, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. You could see your dad’s shoulders relax a little, his hands falling to rest on the table.

“He was so good with you,” Harry said after a moment. “Always patient. Always kind.”

You reached across the table, placing your hand over his. “He loved you, Dad. All of you. I think you meant as much to him as he did to you.”

Your dad swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“It just… it doesn’t feel real,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I keep thinking I’ll wake up and… and he’ll call or text, and it’ll all have been some kind of awful dream.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “I know. But he wouldn’t want you to carry this alone. You’ve always told me that grief is lighter when you share it.”

He gave you a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes but was a start.

“Why are you so wise for a teenager?” he asked, his voice tinged with warmth.

You shrugged, trying to keep the mood light. “I get it from Mum. Obviously.”

That earned you a soft chuckle, and for a moment, it felt like the cloud hanging over the room lifted just a little.

Over the next few days, you made it your mission to help your dad through his grief, even if he didn’t realize it. It was little things at first—making sure he ate, suggesting you watch one of Liam’s favorite movies together, or putting on some music to fill the silence.

But as time went on, you noticed that your dad seemed to be retreating into himself more. He’d spend hours in his studio, not working on anything, just sitting there with his guitar in his lap. You’d find him staring out the window, lost in thought, or holding his phone like he was waiting for a call that would never come.

It broke your heart to see him like this, so you decided to take a more direct approach.

One evening, you found him in the living room, staring at an old photo album. You sat down next to him without a word, leaning against his shoulder as you looked at the pictures. Most of them were from his One Direction days—grainy selfies, group shots from concerts, and candids of the boys goofing around backstage.

“Did you ever think those days would end?” you asked softly.

He shook his head. “Not really. We were so young, so caught up in it all. It felt like it would last forever.”

“But you’re still close,” you pointed out. “You and Louis talk all the time. And Niall sends those ridiculous videos that make you laugh so hard you cry.”

He smiled faintly at that. “Yeah. And Zayn… well, we’ve reconnected a bit over the years. It’s not the same as it was, but there’s still love there.”

You nodded, flipping the page to a picture of Liam holding a microphone, his face lit up with a big, toothy grin. “He’d be proud of you, you know. For everything you’ve done. For the way you’ve been there for everyone else, even when it’s hard for you.”

Your dad’s eyes filled with tears, and he quickly wiped them away, his hand trembling slightly.

“I just… I feel like I should’ve done more,” he admitted. “Checked in more often, made more of an effort to keep in touch. Maybe if I had, things would’ve been different.”

You shook your head firmly. “No, Dad. You can’t think like that. You loved him, and he knew that. Sometimes, life just… happens. It’s not anyone’s fault.”

He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours for some kind of reassurance. “How’d you get so good at this?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

“Years of listening to your music,” you teased, earning a watery laugh from him.

A few weeks later, your dad had a concert scheduled—a big one, with thousands of fans waiting to see him. You weren’t sure if he was ready to perform, but he insisted that the show must go on.

That night, as you stood backstage, you could feel the nervous energy radiating off him. He kept pacing, running his hands through his hair and mumbling to himself.

“Dad,” you said, stepping in front of him to stop his pacing. “You’ve got this.”

He looked down at you, his green eyes wide and uncertain. “What if I break down in the middle of it? What if I can’t do it?”

“You will,” you said confidently. “Because you’re doing this for him. And because he’d want you to.”

He took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

As the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted into cheers, your dad turned to you one last time. “Stay close, yeah?”

“Always,” you promised.

The concert started off strong, with your dad pouring his heart into every song. The crowd loved him, cheering and singing along to every word. But it wasn’t until halfway through the set that he finally addressed the elephant in the room.

“This next one…” he began, his voice shaking slightly. “This next one is for someone very special to me. Someone who’s no longer with us, but who will always be a part of my heart.”

The stadium fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“I miss you, mate,” he said softly, his voice cracking. “This one’s for you.”

He started to play, his voice raw with emotion as he sang a song he’d written just for Liam. The lyrics were beautiful, filled with love and pain and memories of the friendship they’d shared. By the time he finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house—including yours.

When he walked off stage, you were there waiting for him, your arms open wide. He pulled you into a tight hug, holding on like you were his lifeline.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with gratitude. “For everything.”

You smiled against his shoulder, tears streaming down your face. “Always, Dad. Always.”

In that moment, you knew that while the pain of losing Liam would never fully go away, your dad would be okay. Because he wasn’t alone. He had you, and he had the love and memories of a bond that could never be broken.

And that was enough.

The End.

[taketheringtolohac]

like on the one hand I feel bad for the guy who was complaining to his friends that everything out of peoples mouth was something about sex or cock or penis (which, not even true! but whatever) bc clearly someone did not warn him that people were going to be saying shut during the movie (as evident by him saying to them “just watch the fucking movie”) on the other hand like. fuck you man you’re going to this whole thing and that’s part of it???? sorry that you didn’t like it some of us were having a good time and like, doing our thing. which is again, the thing you do when you watch the movie, generally speaking. sorry you didn’t know but also man at least get a few blocks away from the theater

[aq2003]

im being 1000% serious when i say escape from the bloodkeep is the best my favorite d20 sidequest and i cannot fathom why anyone would hate it

[gojosprettyprincess]

Hide n Fuck!!?

Synopsis - A quick game of hide n seek quickly turns into a nasty game of hide n fuck with your step-brother Megumi

Warning! - Prone bone, stepcest, they fuck in the attic, degradation, praising, spiting, dirty talk, creampie, choking, breeding kink, Reader is 19 n Megumi is 21, They aren’t blood related. They got caught :0, they may be some grammar errors!! Please do not interact if this isn’t your cup of tea!! MDNI!! Oh he is Toji’s son alright.

Kinktober List ԅ(°Д°ԅ)

A/n - I’m so horny

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You didn’t think the day would come where you get to relive a cherishable childhood memory of playing one of your favorite games of all time. Playing a game of hide and seek with Megumi and his cousins—a game you never thought you’d play again considering the fact that you were 19 and what people would describe as "too grown" to be playing childish games like that but fortunately, some of Megumi’s family from his dad's side came over for a small family reunion so that’s what led to the evocation.

You sighed in disappointment after finding a well concealed spot to hide in the crowded attic—behind some large boxes in the corner that has been collecting dust for probably years now, just to be raided by Megumi, who joined you.

It was a pretty clandestine hiding spot but now the chances of getting caught has increased even more because it’s been proven to you throughout the years in your childhood that you’ve played the game that you're most likely to get caught quicker if someone else was hiding with you.

But soon enough all those apprehension flew right past your head once you were being fucked hard into oblivion by Megumi— he’s basically mounting you, his larger frame almost crushing your back as you lay on your stomach. Your ass arching up a bit to accommodate the amelioration of the angle. His curved dick sliding in and out of your gushing cunt with ease every time he humps himself into you. His pelvis slapping against the fat of your ass so lewdly, causing the flesh to jiggle like jello against him. Literally, all that could be heard were his loud breathing and occasional groans, your pathetic moaning and babbling a bunch of god knows what, along with the constant sounds of his meaty balls thwacking against your puffy clit—that’s practically wet and dripping with slick. It was actually so fucking nasty how wet you were, coating and drooling all over his cock with your aroused slick as your snugged pussy enveloped his mean cock.

“Fuck you hear how soaked she is for me? Such a little slut. You don’t care what the situation is, you just wanna get your little hole stuffed and fucked like a horny bitch, is that right?” his deep voice rasped against your ear, it was pretty hilarious to you that he was saying that when he was the one groping you from behind and kissing your neck while rubbing his hard bulge into your ass with your skirt hauled up just seconds after he joined you—basically the one to initiate what was happening in the first place. You weren’t even surprised though, Megumi always had a thing for sneaky fucking—An exhibition freak.

You moaned out like brainless slut, placing one of your hands on Megumi’s right hand, which is balled up into a fist to ground himself at the sides of your head. He was so close to you that you could smell the delicious scent of his cologne—sweet and minty, wafting straight into your nostrils, making your mind hazy.

“Gumiii” you whined, feeling your brains getting fucked out that you're just babbling nonsense at the point. “Hmm? What is it baby” he moved his head closer to yours, licking a long stripe on the side of your neck that sent shivers down your spine. "We need to ngh—Hur-ry, or we’ll get cccaught!” You yelped suddenly, biting your lips when you felt two of his lengthy fingers toying with your nipple, tugging and pinching the hard bud.

“Oh yeah? Then I guess you’ll just have to be a good girl f’me and be extra fucking quiet or would you rather let everyone see and hear you getting fucked dumb and stupid by your stepbrother’s cock?” His deep voice whispered in your ear, a tiny smirk plastered on the corner of his face that immediately made your pussy clenched even harder around his girth, Your jaw dropped as his cockhead kissed your cervix, making your eyes roll back in your head. It’s like every time he fucked his cock deeper and deeper into you, your mind goes clumsy and you turn into a brainless zombie.

There’s no way any one couldn’t hear the loud thumping noises and loud moans coming from the attic—there’s no way fucking way but by the way Megumi was being an arrogant lil shit and stretching your little pussy open with his cock so brutally to accommodate his size like this, making you moan uncontrollable as if he wants someone to hear and get caught, he doesn’t seem to give a shit.

“Fuckk wish I could suck on those pretty tits” he murmured as he fondled with your breast, groping and squeezing the soft flesh as you shiver slightly because of his cold hands. He quickly lets go and wraps his big hand over your throat, angling your head to look up at him, a dark glint beaming in his eye with a tiny smirk as he eyed your fucked out face. He watched as your face distorted in pleasure, his thick cock twitching in your pussy knowing that he was the reason for that. You opened your mouth, acquitting a loud pornographic moan, Megumi used that as a perfect opportunity to corrugate his lips, a loud “pff” sound ringing in your ears as you felt a thick substance hitting your tongue. “Swallow it now” he ordered nonchalantly, dark blue eyes piercing into your soul. You did as you were told and swallowed his spit, opening your mouth after to prove it to him.

“Mmm That’s a gooddd girl, fuckk this pussy s’good, imagine if I blow my load inside this pretty cunt and fill you up, bet you’d like that yeah? Wanna give your mom and Toji some snotty little grandkids?” He babbles maniacally in your ear as you go stupid, feeling your orgasm approaching.

He noticed. Hand enthralling harder around your neck as he buckled his hips against you roughly, pulling his thick cock out of you just to bully it right back into your tight hole faster knocking loud whimpers out of you. He quickly lets go of your neck, his hand snaking its way to your sticky clit, using three fingers to sloppily rub circles on it without any type of rhythm, if you weren’t fucked so dumb right now you might’ve actually had a chance to recognize the messy spelling of his name rubbing onto your clit. “Fuckkk—look at this greedy little pussy squeezing my cock like this, you gonna cum? You really gonna make a mess on your step-brothers dick? Fuck you’re suchhh a little slut, baby. He laughed while moaning, feeling your pussy milking his cock for his own release. Fuck he really is considering fucking a baby into you at this point, your pussy was driving him crazy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head so pathetically as you screamed his name, feeling your hole spasming around his length as you squirted on his cock and all over the floor. Wet squelching noises achoing against the thin wooden walls as he fucked the liquid out of you, steams of your pussy juice heaving everywhere.

“Shitt you squirted??Oh fuckfuckfuck, What a dirty bitch” he gritted his teeth, almost losing his mind. Oh he’s trying his best to hold onto the small amount of sanity he has left as his cock molds your hole perfectly, his thick girth sliding into your pussy painfully fast because of your wetness. His mean tip grazing against your g-spot perfectly that it made your toes curl. You can feel literally feel how much his cock was twitching and beating against your fluttery walls, His eyes screwed shut as he emptied his balls into your messy pussy, cum overflowing and pooling everywhere as he shot ropes of his seed into your womb.

“Holy fuckkk yeah you’re definitely hah—carrying my kid, woman” he groaned loudly, stilling himself inside of you for a bit to catch his breathe before picking himself up from your back to rest himself on the back of your thighs, his eyes fixated on the mess between your thighs. He bit his lips, slowly slipping his cock out of you as he watched as your mixed cum leaks out of you. You whined lowly feeling so stuffed full yet so empty at the same time without Megumi’s cock. You body fully collapsed on the floor, you were so fucked out you couldn’t even process anything as he slowly spread your cheeks, getting a better view of your ruined hole before slapping his dick on your cunt, he let it a low “fuck” as your juices splattered on him.

“Such a messy bitch” he muttered with low grunt, Slapping his soaked cock on your cheeks.

“Best little step-sister aren’t ya?” He smirks. About to open his mouth to speak again before the attic door flew open, causing the two of you to jolt unexpectedly—both eyes shooting open toward the source.

“GOT YAA-“ Yuji’s eyes quickly widen, mouth visibly dropped at the lewd scene in front of him. A horrific expression plastered on his face. Oh boy.

[sttoru]

‘the king of curses doesn’t like sharing. especially not when it comes to his partner.’

☀︎｜tags. heian era!sukuna x female reader. sfw/fluff ? ig. set in the heian era, duh. jealousy & possessive themes. size difference (reader gets referred to as small!). tried to be realistic w/ sukuna’s characterisation so. . . don’t be surprised to read about him killing somebody. therefore, mentions of blood. reader is implied to have a fear of blood (dw sukuna takes care of it teehee). reader gets called 'brat'. not beta read; this sucks ass.

you were taking a stroll outside of the estate, the hem of the floral kimono you’re wearing lightly dragging along behind you. the weather was perfect with not a single cloud in sight.

a pair of silent footsteps follow yours and you sigh. even though it was an usual occurrence, you still aren’t used to having one of sukuna’s servants at your side at all times. your over protective lover insisted that it was for your own ‘safety’. as if anything or anyone could harm you whilst you stay within the four walls of the estate far up in the mountains.

sukuna is continuously busy and thus decided to assign you a personal maid that accompanies you and takes care of your every need when he isn’t able to. well - looking at the bright side of things - at least she tries her best to hide her presence from you. she tags along silently and only speaks when spoken to.

you stop near a sakura tree and tilt your head back to admire its beauty. after a few minutes pass, you hear a different pair of footsteps walking up your way. you turn your head and see a familiar male servant approaching you with his head held low.

his hands were holding onto a platter with a cup of warm tea and a few of your favorite delicacies. the brown-haired man greets you politely. maybe a bit too politely as his voice carries a bright smile, “good afternoon, my lady.”

you return the greeting with a smile of your own. it was like you to treat the servants around the estate with kindness and care — a total opposite of the king of curses. you take a pastry from the platter and look back up at the man, “thank you for bringing me these. i appreciate it greatly.”

the way you treat the ones of lower status has always been an admirable trait of yours. it might have stirred some forbidden feelings for you in the heart of the male servant. he knows that it was impossible - he’d seen how easily sukuna gets rid of those who get too close to you.

but, he isn’t here. the king of curses isn’t present in the current moment. the brown-haired male shifts in his place a little, fingernails digging into the material of the plate he was holding. he was going to do it — no one could hold him back. not even the maid who stood a couple steps away.

“y-you look very beautiful, my lady.” the servant stutters and bows his head at you. you are surprised to hear such a flattering sentence leave the lips of the man in front of you. none of the men around you had dared to be this straightforward in ages. they all knew the possible consequences that such actions could bring after all.

perhaps it was due to the absent intimidating presence of your lover. still, you can’t help but feel grateful. you giggle softly, covering your mouth with your free hand, “thank you so much.”

the male servant gulps at the sound of your laughter. ‘oh, how lucky the king of curses is - to have such a beautiful woman at his side,’ the man thought to himself. he was sure that he could treat you better than the indifferent sukuna himself.

he hesitates to continue the conversation for a second. there was an urge deep within him; to ask if you’d like to have some tea with him in the dining area. it would be extremely bold and maybe way out of line considering that you’re taken.

but, the way you reacted to his earlier compliment gave him a huge confidence boost. one that would sooner or later send him to his grave.

“would you perhaps be interested in joining me for a drink, my lady?” the servant asks and anything that happens after that instant, is all but a blur.

you can’t process the next few moments as everything happens way too fast. the last thing you remember seeing, was the servant before you. a sudden gust of wind passes by and the sounds of quick slashes fill your ears. you couldn’t figure out anything else as your vision gets blocked by something. or rather - someone.

a familiar and large hand covers the back of your head. the scent of the person holding you is also oddly familiar—a certain scent that made a shiver run down your spine from both excitement and light fear.

“sukuna?” you guess and guess correctly. your voice was muffled due to your face being smushed against his torso. you didn’t yet understand what happened, so you try to pull your body away from the king of curses, only for his grip on you to tighten.

sukuna’s face was as emotionless as ever. his eyes look down at the pile of blood near your feet — what was once a human being had now turned into nothing but a pure crimson liquid.

“foolish. absolutely foolish.” the king of curses grumbles, his tone filled with disgust. he doesn’t soften the grip on your body for even a moment. one of his four arms holds you captive against him, his hand firmly yet somehow tenderly cradling your head just above his midriff, “it seems that i cannot leave this place for a single second.”

sukuna glances at your personal maid who had been bowing to him the moment he appeared out of thin air. she could feel his piercing gaze on her and knew exactly what to do without being told: to clean up the mess that stained the garden’s pavement.

“sukuna,” you try to move your head again, but was still restricted. you let out a small whine in response. you just wanted to see your lover after spending an entire day without him. any thoughts about that servant from earlier had long vanished, “i want to see you. can i?”

the request is an innocent one. there isn’t a visible change in sukuna's expression, but the way you asked him that was quite. . . endearing, if he were to explain it. he would comply if it wasn’t for the literal bloodbath he created. which he doesn’t want you to witness.

“not yet.” he replies and effortlessly uses one of his arms to pick your small body up. your lover notices how you try to steal a glimpse at the scene behind you while he moves you around in his embrace. he grunts and gently smacks the back of your head, “no peeking, brat. do as told.”

sukuna knows how much you hate the sight of blood. he's being considerate towards you — even if you do not realise that just yet. however, he also does not have a single regret about murdering that servant. it was to be expected. anybody who dares to make a move on his woman should suffer his wrath.

plus, it's not like you don't know about sukuna's ruthless actions. you’ve come to get used to them; more and more male servants keep dissappearing without a trace after they’ve been ‘too friendly' with you. it's easy to guess who’s behind those disappearances.

it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. as long as you don't see it happening and as long as you get to stay under sukuna's care and protection - you don’t mind.

“can i look now?” you huff after sukuna has carried you away from the garden. the king of curses clicks his tongue at your impatience.

he sighs deeply before allowing you back on your own two feet, “i do not understand why you’re so adamant on looking at me, but fine.”

you waste no time and immediately open your eyes. your gaze doesn’t wander off towards your surroundings—it instantly settles on sukuna. he looked the same as usual; there was not a single change about his appearance and yet you find yourself smiling at the sight of him.

“i missed you.” you hug your lover and feel him returning the gesture a few seconds later. he looks the other way and may seem indifferent to your display of affection, though the man was secretly grateful for it. for you in general.

“mhm.” sukuna lets out a small noise of acknowledgment and that is all you get out of him. he doesn’t have to say much; his body automatically does the talking. he squeezes your body against his — your small frame disappearing behind his beefy arms.

the king of curses doesn’t understand why, but the way your eyes sparkle when looking at him, intrigues him. sukuna had never seen another human look at him like that before after all. they all cower in fear; except for you. you don’t show a single ounce of fear. thus why you are something - someone - he must keep for himself.

he has and will never have any intent on sharing you with anyone. you’re his, for as long as he exists.

[alienzil]

Grandfathered In

There, a job well done. Alfred thought to himself as he put the last grocery bag in the back of the car. Meal planning and shopping for a family as large as his own (and their semi frequent unexpected guests) did take quite a bit of his time but he'd managed to finish a bit early this week.

Alfred was thinking fondly of spending his extra time with a nice cup of tea and a book when he heard a noise from the nearby alley.

He stilled and listened intently. That was the sound of someone in pain. A child in pain if he wasn't mistaken (a sound he would rather he wasn't so familiar with). Well then, the tea would have to wait.

Alfred quietly moved into the alleyway, his hand inside his coat gripping the pistol hidden there. Hurt child or not, it never hurts to be cautious in Gotham.

"Good Heavens!"

There was a boy with pure white hair and bright, barely open, luminous green eyes. He was curled up, partially hidden by the dumpster, clearly barely clinging to consciousness and was oozing bright green blood from a large abdominal wound as well as several smaller cuts and burns.

He approached slowly and held out his hands to try to appear as friendly and non threatening as possible. "You appear to be in a bit of trouble young sir, perhaps I can help?"

The boy nodded weakly and Alfred knelt down and reached to pick him up. Best to get him into the car quickly and make use of his emergency first aid kit to stabilize the boy then get him home for further treatment. The hospital clearly wasn't an option for the young Meta... or alien perhaps? Something to ask once the boy was up to it.

Alfred carefully cradled the child and briskly moved back towards the car. He appeared to be a young teenager but he weighed so little, Alfred almost felt as though he was holding a toddler rather than a teen.

He lay the boy down in the back seat and leaned over to reassure him, gently moving his hair out of his eyes and petting is head in a soothing gesture. "There now, we'll have you right as rain in no time."

"Ha" the injured young Meta tried to laugh. "Might take...some time.. Don't ya think?"

Oh he'd fit right in, Alfred couldn't help thinking. Sassing even as he lay there bleeding. Well, in spirit if not quite the usual appearance, Alfred considered, eyeing the white hair and bright green eyes but-

A bright white suddenly light filled the car. Alfred blinked away the spots from his vision then stared in astonishment at the now black haired, blue eyed boy before him. Well then, fit right in indeed.

*****

Bruce blearily wandered into the kitchen and sat down at the table just barely holding in a yawn. He'd been in space on a mission with the Justice League for over 3 weeks and had only just gotten back to Earth in time to crash into bed and get a few hours of sleep before he had to be back up.

He reached for his coffee and looked around the table at his children. Tired as he was, it was good to be home. It even looked like everyone had made it for breakfast, a rare event for their family. Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Stephanie, Barbara, Damian, Duke and...

"Who's this?" Bruce asked with friendly smile. Did one of his kids make a new friend?

Alfred silently appeared next to him. "That is your son."

"My son?" What was happening? Bruce was too tired for this. He counted again, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Stephanie, Barbara, Damian, Duke and...he looked closely at the last one. Black hair, blue eyes. Looks like one of his... He had no idea who this child was.

"Your son." Alfred said firmly as he sat some papers next to Bruce's plate.

Bruce looked down. Those were adoption papers.

"Oh. My. God." Stephanie whisper screamed from across the table. "That's where B got the adoption habit from!"

Bruce's attention was diverted from the multiple children trying to shush Stephanie as an uncapped pen was placed in front of him. He looked up as Alfred raised a single eyebrow and gave him a pointed look.

"Right, of course. My son."

He quickly scanned the adoption papers as he signed them then looked over at his latest child.

"Welcome to the family, Danny."

Note: I don't currently have plans to continue this. Anyone can add on if they would like to :-)

[pathologicalreid]

You write fluff and flangst absolutely amazingly and I’m in awe every dang time!

Buuut since you’ve got spring break coming up, a little fic idea that’s in my head that I’ll never do justice! (If you’re interested)

Fem!reader finding out an adorable way to tell Spencer she’s pregnant. I don’t care if they’re dating or married or what - but like she puts together a crossword, or a puzzle and he just doesn’t get it. (If you wanna throw angst in, he leaves without getting it for a case and then realizes it in the middle of the night.)

puzzling | S.R.

trying to tell Spencer you're pregnant, but he's too concerned with your well-being to fill out your custom crossword puzzle

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: pregnancy and misc. symptoms., talk of fainting and blood tests. word count: 1.69k a/n: welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda! i hope this does your request justice and thank you for entrusting me with this idea!!!! <3

you

It was your pride and joy, the collection of folded papers that sat on the kitchen counter, next to a cup of coffee that you had already filled for him.

On your fake newspaper, you had created a custom crossword puzzle. With four very important clues.

Across: “Early stage of life”

Across: “American actress Frances _”

Down: “Must be finished by”

Down: “Veteran’s Day month”

You smiled softly to yourself as you heard Spencer’s footsteps coming down the staircase. Padding over to the kitchen counter, you sat on one of the stools, a cup of tea in front of you.

Before he even looked at the newspaper, Spencer leaned over to kiss you good morning, “You look tired,” he whispered, hooking a finger under your chin as if he were investigating the dark circles underneath your eyes.

“Way to make a girl feel good about herself,” you teased lightly, even though you knew he was right. At least you felt tired.

He rolled his eyes, “You know that’s not what I meant.” Turning to grab his mug of coffee off of the counter, he observed you again, “Are you sure your doctor said nothing was wrong?”

Smiling, you gave him a brief nod. You had gone to see your doctor a few days ago for nausea and fatigue, and Spencer would’ve gone with you had he not been on the other side of the country on a case. “They’re running some tests, but they didn’t see anything blatantly wrong,” the doctor was running a few blood tests, checking your iron levels and HCG.

Using his free hand, Spencer reached over and moved a lock of hair out of your face, “They said your blood pressure was low?”

Low blood pressure, as it turned out, was a pregnancy symptom that was most common in the first trimester. “You’re freaking out over nothing, Spence,” you told him. Really, it was something. A rather large something – or small, depending on how you wanted to look at it. “Come on, it’s crossword time,” you told him, using the end of the pen to tap on the newspaper.

“I worry about you when I’m away. You do know that low blood pressure can cause syncope, right? Did they prescribe you anything for it?” He asked, ignoring your wishes to move on and do the crossword.

There was a small part of you that just wanted to tell him, but frankly, you had worked too hard on the crossword puzzle to give yourself away like that. You couldn’t tell him that they didn’t prescribe you anything because they didn’t know how far along you were. A larger part of you knew that if you just got him to work on the puzzle, he would have his answers in about seven minutes.

Then his phone rang, he pulled the device out of his pocket, and the Caller ID on the screen caused you to slump your shoulders forward. It was Garcia. “Hey Garcia,” he greeted on the phone, “at the tarmac?”

You set your head on the counter and sighed in defeat as Spencer hung up the phone.

“Are you alright?” He asked you softly, tenderly wrapping an arm around your torso.

Humming, you sat back up, ignoring the stars in your field of vision as you did so. “I’m fine, you should go,” you insisted.

Spencer shook his head, “No, you’re sick. I’ll call Garcia back and tell her I have to stay back.” Acting bewildered at the idea that he had been so remiss as to agree to do his job while you were unwell.

You reached out and set a hand on his, “It’s alright, love. I can take care of myself,” you reminded him. Besides the fact that you were wholly self-sufficient, the only reason why Spencer would be asked to meet the team at the tarmac was if they were headed toward a particularly gnarly case – they needed all hands on deck.

“Promise me you’ll check in? Call your mom if you need any help, please,” he requested, pleading eyes following you as you got up to hug him.

Nodding, you wrapped your arms around him, “You should take the crossword with you.” Pulling away, you haphazardly refolded the newspaper and handed it to him.

Furrowing his brow, Spencer inspected the paper that you had given him. “We always do the crossword together on Saturdays,” he found you incredibly helpful on the pop culture clues. “We could save this one and then have two for next week,” he offered.

God. No. Your eyes widened at the idea of having to keep your secret for another week, shaking your head, you shrugged, “No, you should take it. It’ll make me look forward to next week even more,” you insisted.

He folded, and with a sweet kiss to the forehead, he was off to go save lives, remaining entirely unaware of the one growing inside of you.

him

The judgmental Italian behind him was proving to be a distraction, “Did you find something?” Spencer asked, eyeing the evidence board with frustration. Something bugged him about the case, and he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.

“Not right now, but it’s three in the morning,” Rossi said, joining Spencer by the evidence board. “Why don’t you give that big brain of yours a break?”

Shaking his head, Spencer crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I tried. I can’t stop thinking about the case.” Men were popping up dead in a small Missouri town at an alarming rate, and he felt so close to a breakthrough.

Dave nodded like he understood the feeling, that was probably why he had emerged from his hotel room so early, returning to the precinct before the sun peeked over the horizon. “What do you usually do to wind your brain down?”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “Crossword puzzles,” he admitted, any word puzzle would do the trick.

The chuckle from the older man next to him startled Spencer, “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” Rossi looked around the precinct, “I’m sure we can find one around here somewhere.”

“No,” Spencer said, “I have one in my bag, actually.” He refrained from including the detail that you had given him the crossword puzzle, or else he’d never hear the end of it.

Clapping him on the back, Rossi lifted his coffee cup, “Then I suggest you go take the thirty seconds to fill out that puzzle and then get some rest.”

Once he was back in his hotel room, he changed before pulling out the pile of papers that you had sent him off with. Sitting on top of the bed, he filled out the puzzle in approximately six minutes and forty-three seconds. Once the letters were filled in, he skimmed the puzzle – just to check it over.

The only one that might’ve given him trouble was about an American actress – usually he had you to help him with pop culture, but he recalled having the same last name as an actress in Days of Our Lives.

It was interesting that the words “Baby” and “Reid” were right next to each other.

Wait.

Quickly, he calculated the odds that the words “Baby” “Reid” “Due” and “November” were all in the puzzle and when the numbers were put together, they made your anniversary. Spencer just as quickly called you, listening to the phone ringing.

His heart was racing as he waited to see if you answered the phone. “Hey,” your groggy voice came through the receiver.

“Where did you get this crossword puzzle?” He asked you, flipping through the rest of the newspaper for the first time.

You hummed softly, “You’re doing it right now?”

Looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table, he dropped his face into his hands. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t even think about the time,” it was just past four in the morning now, making it just past five in the morning in Virginia. “I just thought that…” his voice trailed off. What if it was just a coincidence?

There was silence on your end of the call, and he wondered if you had fallen asleep. You hadn’t been feeling well, and he’d woken you up with his phone call. “You thought what, Spence?”

The teasing lilt in your voice had given you away to him immediately. He knew. Every one of his suspicions were confirmed, “Y/N Reid,” he breathed.

“Spencer Reid,” you countered.

He took a deep breath, “Are you pregnant?”

“Yeah,” you answered simply, with about as much enthusiasm as he expected from you at five in the morning.

It all started to make sense to him. The low blood pressure, the drowsiness, and even the slight caginess when it came to him asking about your doctor’s visit. He swiped away a few stray tears, “I don’t know what to say.” It wasn’t a feeling he was overly used to.

You cleared your throat, “Are you happy?” Nerves clouded your voice, and he could hear you becoming more awake – more alert.

“I am,” he searched aimlessly. Elated. Thrilled. Ecstatic. “I’m so happy,” he told you, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say, I just… God, are you okay?” Dread washed over him, you were alone, sick, and pregnant at home and he was halfway across the country.

Sighing, he heard a ruffling on the other end of the call. “I’m great. I’m exhausted, I had no idea being pregnant was so tiring. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t know.” You sighed again, “I’m not making any sense.”

He laughed lightly at your rambling, “You’re making perfect sense. Chances are your energy will return during the second trimester.”

“Don’t get my hopes up.” You paused again for just a moment, “I’m sorry if I scared you. With the whole doctor’s appointment thing. They really are keeping an eye on my blood pressure and whole slew of other things, but they know the root cause.”

A giddy smile grew on his face, “It’s because you’re pregnant.”

A soft hum came through the phone, “It’s because I’m pregnant,” you concurred.

[innerfare]

Going Down On You - Part 1 

Summary: how they go down on you

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // oral sex, shameless dirty talk, Kid is a little mean

——— 

Luffy: 

As soon as the two of you are alone, he’s pushing your legs apart. Often times, he doesn’t even take your clothes off, just pushes what he can to the side and buries his face in your pussy. He eats you out like an all you can eat buffet and comes back for multiple rounds. 

He slurps so loud- comically loud. 

“So tasty,” he’ll mutter. “I could eat this for hours.” Sometimes he does. He doesn’t stop when you cum, he stops when he’s had his fill, no matter what time it is. 

Sometimes, he’ll wake up in the middle of the night ravenous. If you’re wearing panties, he rips them off, so you’ve learned to sleep naked. Half asleep, he’ll bury his face between your legs until he’s had his fill, lapping tiredly at your folds, humming and groaning while he does it. If you try to squirm or get away, he gets super annoyed.

“Stop it,” he grumbles in that slight raspy voice of his, lips glistening with your juices. “I don’t care if you’re tired, I’m hungry.” 

What Luffy wants, Luffy gets. 

If the two of you were stranded on an island together, he probably wouldn’t even hunt for food. He’d just strip you down on the beach and pin you with his face between your legs until the two of you were rescued. At times, he even prefers eating you out to fucking you. 

Zoro: 

When he’s hungry, he won’t ask. He’ll just pry your legs apart and go to town as casually as making a cup of tea, though he does it with such fervor you think he must be an addict. 

He usually drags you on top of him and makes you sit on his face so he can lap at your folds at his leisure. He prefers to sit with his hands behind his back while he does it, as if he’s a king and you’re servicing him by letting him tongue your poor, aching cunt (you are), but if you’re being naughty, he’ll wrap those massive hands around your thighs and hold you in place. He also gets super annoyed if you squeal or squirm. 

“Quiet, woman,” he’ll tell you, furrowing his brows. “You’re distracting me.” 

He likes to spread your lips apart and take a good look at you first. He’ll bury his face in your folds and inhale as deeply as he can several times, taking his sweet time before he begins poking and prodding. He’ll mutter to himself as he does it. 

“Mmm, that’s good. Yeah, just like that. That’s a sweet pussy. So sensitive. I bet I can make it cream.” 

He’ll stop in the middle of what he’s doing to place some warm, lingering kisses on your folds before ramming his tongue back inside you. Really loves spitting in your hole and pushing it in deeper with his fingers. Will literally drool in your cunt because he enjoys seeing it spill out. 

Sanji: 

Literally so loud when he does it, makes the most over the top, dramatic noises, moaning as if you’re sucking him off. He especially loves to suck on your labia (no hate to innies but he definitely prefers outies, if you know what I mean). This man would carry a picture of your wet pussy around in his wallet if you let him. He takes the opportunity to taste you very seriously, a little too seriously. Has spent so much time perfecting his technique it’s unreal. 

He’s so sweet about it, too, and so grateful. 

“My precious babygirl, thank you so much for letting me taste this sweet pussy.” 

Such a giver he would happily give up his own pleasure for yours, but that doesn’t mean 69-ing isn’t his absolute favorite thing in the entire world. He especially likes it when he’s sitting up with his back against the headboard, your ass in the air and your face buried down in his lap (helps with the height difference, too). He’ll hold you open and massage your ass while he laps at your folds. 

Always wants to finger you in this position but can’t bring himself to do it, doesn’t want to waste a single drop of your juices; also just can’t keep his face out of your cunt long enough to manage. If hickies on your clit were possible, yours would be covered constantly. He also wants to eat his cum out of you after you two fuck.

Ace: 

All of those manners he worked so hard to learn go right out the window when he gets your panties off and his face between your legs. Is especially obsessed with the smell of you; as soon as he catches the scent, he’s on you like a beast. He wants it all over his face and hands. He wants to fall into bed and smell you on his sheets and pillows. 

“The best smell in the fucking world,” he’ll groan, dragging his nose up your slit. 

His favorite is to put you on your back and push your bottom half up so your bare cunt is high in the air, completely exposed and vulnerable for him to eat at his leisure. He’ll put his big, strong hands behind your knees and hold your legs in an impossible position while he buries his face in your juicy cunt, the knowledge it’s all his enough to make him hard. 

“Fucking delicious. And it’s all fucking mine.” 

Like his brother, he has quite the appetite, but unlike Luffy, he’s never just content to devour you. He’ll lap at your folds until you’re overstimulated, and then he’ll pull out his thick, veiny cock. He’ll shush you as he pushes it into your quivering cunt and fuck you until he’s as spent as you are, and then he’ll fuck you a little more.   

Sabo: 

Another ravenous appetite. Sabo is so messy when he eats you out. He’ll have your juices and his saliva running down his chin and smeared all over his cheeks. He’s even gotten it in his hair before. He doesn’t care, though. When he gets his face between your legs, he gets pussy drunk and completely spaces out. Time stands still, and the only thing that matters is pushing his tongue into your quivering little hole. 

It’s his favorite way to wind down after a long day, and if he’s been away on a mission, he’ll most certainly return with a new mission: to suck your soul out through your clit.  

He’s especially good with his tongue. He’ll stuff it into your hole and massage your most sensitive areas, working it in and out of you while his thumb kneads your sensitive clit. He likes to change positions a lot, putting you on your back then flipping you on all fours before dragging you down to sit on his face, and he’ll have a wicked grin on his face the entire time. The most important thing is that your fingers are tangled in his hair while he works. 

His possessive side really comes out while he’s going down on you. With Sabo, there’s no such thing as your pussy, only his pussy. He'll spit on your folds and leave hickies on your inner thighs to mark you as his.

“Nobody else gets to taste you. Not now, not ever.” 

Law: 

Most definitely uses it as a punishment. He’ll chastise you while he fingers you slowly, his lips mere inches from your leaking cunt. He’ll scold you for being so wet for him or for whining/being impatient. 

"Poor thing, you're aching for it."

When he does finally go down, he’s meticulous about it, tonguing every crevice and licking up every last drop. He’ll make you hold your own legs up and wide open so he can have easier access, and so he can busy his own hands with your breasts. 

On the occasions he does let you lower your legs, he really enjoys your fingers in his hair and your feet resting on his back. Especially likes it when you use your feet to push him away so he can wrestle with you a little; he pulls rank, too, telling you that you have to listen because he’s your captain or a doctor. 

“Y/n-ah, stay still. Doctor’s orders.” 

He’s a spanker and if you get too loud, his hand will come down on your breasts or ass until you grab a pillow to muffle your cries, never mind that the sound of him spanking you is louder than your moans. Also, he has a habit of falling into bed at 2am and waking you up with his head between your legs. 

Kid: 

Prefers to eat you out from behind. There’s no division between eating ass and eating pussy as far as this man is concerned, either. He does both or neither, and putting you on all fours or bending you over something is the easiest way for him to get what he wants. 

He’s so mean about it, too. “Poor little thing. You can’t function properly until you’ve been tongue fucked by your man, can you?” 

He’ll chew your nipples raw and snap at you to stop whining about it, you brat. He’ll pull back to spit directly onto your folds, doing it quite loudly because he knows it embarrasses you and makes your hole clench, you adorable fuck bunny. He’ll flick your clit and laugh when you squeal, and he’ll make fun of you when you cum, you needy slut. If you cream or squirt, you’ll never live it down, you pathetic whore. He’ll hold it over your head, but don’t take that to mean he doesn’t like it- he’s obsessed with your cream. 

He’ll spank you, but he prefers to bite. Your ass will be covered in bite marks and hickeys before he ever plunges his tongue into one of your holes. He’s feral when he does, growling and grunting the entire time. And when he’s finished, he’ll place a few sweet kisses on your cunt and ass, give you a light spank, and tell you to get yourself cleaned up. Unless, of course, he wants to fuck you after, in which case you’re in for a long night. If he eats his cum out of you, he'll most definitely be fucking another load into you.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[raeinyourdreams]

currently thinking about dry humping with logan. 😵‍💫

_____

it's late at night and you couldn't sleep, so you went out to the kitchen for a cup of tea, only to find logan doing the same.

he's no stranger to your insomnia, seeing you in the kitchen at late hours of the night looking for tea, milk, melatonin, anything to put you to sleep eventually. and they usually worked, but this night was especially hard.

logan hands you a cup of a sleeping blend. "heard you coming, figured you might want this." the small act of kindness warms both your heart and your face, smiling softly as you take the mug in your hands, your fingers brushing for a moment.

"thanks, lo." you say, taking a sip of the tea, he'd prepared it just how you took it. he'd memorized it from watching you around the kitchen many times. "can't sleep either?" you ask him, leaning on the counter, he just shrugs as an answer.

"when it happens so often you just grow fond of the night. the stillness, the calmness. no kids runnin' around." that last part made you chuckle, he always boasted about hating kids, yet he was oddly really fatherly to them. he smiles weakly to himself at the sight of your beautiful smile, the melodic sound of your laughter.

logan and you were.. something. something very strange that none of you seemed to label. too meddled in the heat to think about a word. you two were whatever you wanted to be in the moment. friends, situationship, his and hers and everyone else's, truly whatever.

so it didn't surprise you when he offered to take you to his room to "help you sleep" in the span of five minutes since you'd stepped foot into the kitchen under some scientific pretext of orgasms helping with relaxation, hence sleep. and who were you to deny?

the tea was long forgotten, a distant memory sitting on his nightstand as he took off your top, you straddling his lap as his hands roamed all over you, skin touching skin that was only covered by a thin fabric.

not tearing away from his kiss, your hands went down to fish his cock out eagerly, when a firm grip on your wrist stopped you, along with a stern hum, finalizing laced in the sound, leaving no room for argument. logan broke off the kiss to look at you, slowly pulling your hand back up and to his exposed chest.

"no, baby, we're doin' somethin' else today.." he says, as he presses your clothed cunt against his throbbing erection, moaning as he feels your hips moving for friction, eager just like him. he holds you down, steadying you by the hips. "woah, slow down, sport. i'm not runnin' away from you.. we have all night so take your time with it."

he coaxes you slowly, guiding your hips at a slow, steady pace as he rubs your cunt against his bulge, throbbing softly under you as you press harder onto him, whining for more. you slowly get the hang of it, your hips moving juuust right as your clit brushes over his shaft, the growing wetness in your panties soaking his own boxers and it makes him growl, hiding his face in your neck to take in your scent.

"can fuckin' smell you, feel you throbbin' around nothin'.. you close, baby?" he asks you, his voice gruff and strained, as if he was also holding on to the edge when he notices you move faster, chasing your release. "yeah.. come for me, bub.. if you do i'll fill you up right after, i promise.." his filthy promise makes you moan, your release creeping up on you like a tidal wave as you move your hips faster, pressing down on him, his twitching cock coated in your arousal and damn near release.

"yeah? you want that, huh? want me to put you to sleep good?" the filth spoken by him makes you react, moaning as an answer, which was enough for him, as it followed your climax. he held onto your hips, helping you guide the pace as he ground under you, your cunt throbbing and slicking up as he moved you over him. "that's it, baby, make a mess for me." his relentless praise whispered over the exposed, sweaty skin of your neck in between wet, open mouthed kisses on the skin.

after you both come down from the hazy cloud of pleasure and release, you search for his eyes, pupils blown out, the hazel now a deep black void as he pants and throbs under you. "fuck.. take these off." he paws at your panties, hooking his fingers under them as you look up at him, still trying to regain composure.

"what? but we just-" "-i'm a man of my word, princess."

you slept.. well that night. disregarding the smeared cum on your body and tangled bedsheets.

a/n: WOAHH!! first post imsonervous but i just HAD to get this off my chest while i finish a fic lolol, likes and reblogs are heavily appreciated (i interact back!!) 🫶🏻 taglist form

[harknessxo]

Prompt to a request (if it is okay) 🫶

Agatha and innocent fem reader+ corruption kink

Reader hasn't even had her first kiss and Agatha teaches her how to tongue kiss and so much more(fingering and magic strap)

Breeding kink as well plsss

Neighborly Desires

Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Warnings; dubcon, corruption kink, enchanted strap, fingering, mommy kink, cunnilingus (r receiving), breeding kink, dummification.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/n: This request has been sitting in my inbox since DECEMBER of 2023…I am extremely sorry but I hope this makes up for it. 😅

You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She watched you struggle to carry the boxes back and forth from your car to your living room and grinned. You were wearing a cute little pink dress and she couldn’t help herself.

“Hiya hon! Do you need some help with that?” You heard a friendly voice from behind you. You swiftly turned around to look at the woman, almost dropping the boxes.

“Careful, there, sweetheart. We don’t want you hurting yourself,” Agatha chuckled, taking a box from you.

“T-thank you,” you blushed, slightly embarrassed at your clumsiness. She helped you put the boxes inside your house before turning towards you.

“I’m Agatha, your neighbor to the right,” she smiled at you kindly, stretching her hand out for you to shake.

“I’m Y/n,” you shook her hand, longer than intended, “And thank you so much for helping me with those boxes. Would you like something to drink?” You offered not knowing what else to say, fidgeting with your hands.

“Y/n...” she tasted your name on her tongue, “What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Tea would be wonderful.”

“Alright, just give me a second until I find my cups,” you chuckled nervously and disappeared into your kitchen. Agatha walked to your living room and sat down. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She waited patiently for you to finish up, thinking of all the things she had planned for you.

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot where I packed everything. I would forget my head if it wasn’t attached to my body,” you joked as you handed Agatha her tea.

“Thank you, hon,” she took a sip, “So, what brings you here?” She asked, curious on how a girl like you ended up in this shitty town.

“Well this was my mother’s home and she passed away a few weeks ago so decided to move in.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she held your hand, gently running her thumb over your knuckles.

“No, it’s okay. We weren’t really close and I wanted a new start.”

“Well if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to knock on my door, alright sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah,” you blushed at the nickname and she grinned. You two talked for a little while longer before you bid her goodbye and continued unpacking your things. Agatha walked home with a smirk on her face. You were too cute for your own good and she knew she was going to have fun with you. The fact that you were alone in this town was a bonus.

Days passed, and her visits became more frequent, her presence becoming very comforting. Somehow many things started to break inside your home and Agatha always seemed to be there to help. She was slowly gaining your trust and finding how truly innocent you were. You hadn’t even had a boyfriend before, how adorable could you possibly get? Yet beneath her warmth and sweet reassurances, a cunning plan took shape. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Agatha now stood next to you in your kitchen. She had offered to help you cook dinner with the excuse she didn’t want you to eat all alone. She made sure to put her hands on your waist and press her front against your ass every time she walked past you. You, of course, didn’t think anything of this, too oblivious to think badly of Agatha’s touchy behavior. She couldn’t help but tease you a little more. She leaned in close to your ear and whispered.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

“T-thank you…” you tried to hide your flushed face and she chuckled.

“Why don’t you go clean up while I make the table?” Agatha said as you were finishing up.

“Okay!” You obediently took your apron off and started walking to your bathroom to clean up.

“Good girl~,” she said under her breath but just loud enough for you to hear, making you flush once again.

You quickly went in, washed your hands, and fixed your hair. While you were in the bathroom, Agatha debated whether or not she should put a spell on you so she could take you right then and there but she wanted to take her time with you. By the time you walked out, Agatha had the table set up beautifully. There were candles and rose petals on the table. It was almost like a romantic dinner. How did she do this so quickly?

“Agatha, this looks beautiful.”

“Just like you,” she complimented you, booping your nose.

“Thank you, Aggie.” You recently started calling her that. Agatha didn’t seem to mind the newfound nickname, in fact, she loved it.

“Of course, darling.” She pulled out your chair and gestured for you to sit down. She was such a gentleman. You were completely oblivious to her true intentions.

You both sat down and ate dinner. Agatha asked you all kinds of questions, she wanted to know every little detail about you. What made you blush, what made you upset, what made you cry, what made you break. You answered all the questions, not thinking anything of it, and asked some yourself. You liked Agatha, more than you actually thought. God, you were so naive.

Eventually, you both finished eating dinner and she helped you clean the dishes. She always found a way to touch you even if it was just touching your hand when you passed her a plate or spoon to dry off. She saw the slight tint on your cheeks when she did.

"We should do this more often, don’t you think?” Agatha asked, her voice carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite place.

“I would love that!” You said happily. Agatha smiled, her eyes seemed to glint in the candlelight. After you were done doing the dishes Agatha started gathering her things to go home but you stopped her.

“Can you stay and watch a movie with me?” You asked, not wanting for her to leave yet.

“I think it’s a bit late, sweetheart,” she said, wanting to hear you beg for her to stay.

“Pretty please?” You grabbed her hands in your, caressing her knuckles with your thumbs, giving her your best puppy eyes. Agatha pretended to think about it, a sly smirk on her face. You were just so cute, how could she possibly say no to you?

“…fine, I’ll stay, but not too late. You need to go to bed soon, deal?”

“Deal!” you said, excitedly, pulling her towards your couch. She sat back while you picked the movie, settling for Tangled, it was your favorite comfort movie. After you started playing the movie, you sat next to Agatha, subconsciously snuggling to her side. She smiled as you snuggled against her. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

“Is this your favorite movie, sweetheart?”

“Mhm!”

“Who’s your favorite character?” Agatha asked, combing through your hair.

“Mother Gothel,” you mumbled.

“Mother Gothel, huh?” she raised an eyebrow, “Why her? She’s the villain of the story.”

“I don’t know…” you frowned slightly, “I just like her character I guess…”

“Hmm. If I were Mother Gothel and I kidnapped you into my tower, what would you do?” she half joked.

“I would never leave.” You smiled at her. Agatha was very pleased with your answer and pulled you closer.

The movie went on and by the time it was over, you were fast asleep on Agatha’s shoulder. You looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, Agatha wanted to take you right then and there but no, she had to hold herself back. She picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently placing you on your bed. She tucked you in before leaning into your ear.

“You will be mine.” Was all she said before leaving to go back home.

—

Over the passing weeks you had gotten attached to Agatha, almost obsessively. Maybe it was her caring nature or your mommy issues coming to bite you in the ass. You were sitting on your couch with Agatha once again. She had picked the movie this time, telling you it was a surprise. She started playing the movie and you soon found out it was titled Carol. You had never seen it before but curled into Agatha’s side, wanting to feel her warmth.

The movie was good and all until the motel scene. Watching as Carol and Therese started kissing and touching each other made your core feel warm. Agatha noticed the way you were trying to hide your flushed face and how your thighs clenched together and smirked. She had you exactly where she wanted you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you cold?” she asked, pulling you closer, placing her hand on your thigh.

“I’m f-fine,” you stuttered out, unconvincing. She chuckled and gently started rubbing your thigh. Her touch was so warm and comforting, it made you want to melt against her. She moved even closer, cupping your face to make you look at her.

“You’re trembling, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I-” you realized how close your faces were, noses almost touching, “Aggie-” she finally crashed her lips against yours. You closed your eyes, savoring how soft her lips were until you pulled away, looking away from her. She smirked at your reaction, enjoying how flustered you were. She gently turned your face to look at her again.

“Sweetheart? Did you not like it?”

“No! I loved it, it's just that…I don’t know how to…” you trailed off, embarrassed.

“Aw, such a dumb baby,” she cupped your face, “You’re so naive and innocent you don’t even know how to kiss. How cute.”

“Wha-” She pressed her finger against your lips, shutting you up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Just follow my lead. I promise you will love it,” you hesitantly nodded and she kissed you again, this time moving her lips against yours and you did the same. She poked her tongue between your lips and you opened your mouth to let her in. You did your best, following her lead and moving your lips and tongue like her. Agatha moved her hand to squeeze your thighs, sliding them closer to your soaked core making you squeal and pull away.

“Agatha I don’t think-”

“Shh,” she pulled you into her lap, your thighs on either side of her legs, “Let mommy do the thinking.” You frowned slightly at her comment but then she pressed her fingers against the wet patch on your panties, making you lose any train of thought you had.

“You’re so wet baby,” she started rubbing her fingers over your clothed clit, “Is that all for me?” she asked, her other hand gripping onto your hip.

“Hmph…” You unconsciously moved your hips against her hand.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” she commanded, pressing harder against your clit, the pressure sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

“Yes…”

“That’s a good girl.” She growled, moving your panties aside to touch your bare core directly, her fingers sliding between your folds. You gasped at the new feeling. You had never felt like this before. You’ve never touched yourself let alone have sex.

“So innocent…” She said before shoving two fingers inside of you. You were so tight, so warm, so wet for her. She pumped her fingers in and out of you, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

“Such a good girl for mommy.” She praised you.

“Aggie-” you clung to her, wrapping your arms around her neck while she worked on fucking your with her fingers. Her other hand started to sneak under the thin dress you were wearing, finding that you weren’t wearing a bra at all.

“Not wearing a bra?” she pinched your nipple, “What a naughty girl…” You whimpered in response, making her chuckle. She pinched your nipple again, she started biting your neck leaving a trail of marks on your skin. She added a third finger, her thumb circling your clit faster than before and then suddenly stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined desperately.

“Such a needy girl,” she picked you up like you weighed nothing and carried you upstairs like she had done before. She took you to your bedroom and sat you on your bed.

She took your dress off, throwing it elsewhere and started undressing as well. She took off her pants to reveal the enchanted strap she had been wearing. She smirked as she looked at your surprised expression.

“Like what you see, darling?” She pushed you back against the bed and climbed on top of you, your legs wrapped around her waist.

“W-wait-” You started to hesitate.

“Shh, it’s okay baby.” She gently caressed your cheek, looking into your eyes with a soft expression. Her strap was pressing against your core and she started rubbing it against you.

“It’s going to feel so good,” she pressed the tip of the strap into your entrance, “I’ll be gentle, okay?” You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head.

She slowly pushed the strap further inside your warm wall, watching as your mouth made an ‘o’ shape and your brows frowned in pleasure. She let out a low groan as the strap went further inside, your pussy greedily clenching around it. Her eyes roaming over your body, watching every little expression you made.

“That’s it, baby… you’re doing so good. You’re taking me so well,” she said most out of breath.

“M-mommy-” She almost lost the little control she had left when you finally called her mommy, feeling a rush of pleasure run through her body. God she was going to finally make you hers. Agatha’s grip on your hips tightened as she began to thrust into you, slowly at first, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying it.

“Oh, you like calling me that don’t you, darling?” She grunted.

“Mhm!” You nodded your head. She smirked and began to pick up the pace, thrusting faster and harder into you. She leaned down and began kissing your neck, leaving more marks as she went. Her hands roamed over your body, squeezing and pinching every inch of your skin.

“Such a good girl, taking mommy’s strap so well…you’re mine.” Agatha finally said out loud. She continued to ramble on, as she thrusted into you. She grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, making you completely helpless beneath her.

“No one else gets to see you like this. You’re all mine. Fuck- I’m never letting you go.” Your brain had turned to mush and all you could do was chant a bunch of yeses as she snapped her hips at a brutal pace. Agatha loved how incoherent you were becoming. She loved how easily she could reduce you to a moaning mess. She began to talk to you in a soft voice, praising and mocking you at the same time.

“Look at you. Such a babbling mess. Mommy’s little dumb slut. Isn’t that right? All mine?”

“Yes! All yours!” Your voice trembled as you got closer to the edge, your orgasm building up.

“That’s right,” she moved one of her hands from your wrists to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles, “You’re all mine, and you’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?”

You tried to reply but instead let out a loud sob, tears running down your rosy cheeks from the pleasure you felt. Agatha leaned down and kissed your tears away, her movements becoming more frantic as she chased your release.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Be a good little slut and cum for mommy.”

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart. Agatha moaned as she felt your walls clench around her, sloppily helping you ride out your orgasm as best as she could as she held onto your trembling legs.

“Fuck- I’m going to fill you up nice and full of my cum, baby, you’re going to be all mine.” She came, moaning loudly as she spilled her hot seed deep inside you. She gave you a few more thrust before pulling out, making you whine in protest at how empty you felt. Her hand on your wrists loosened and she looked down at you with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“There we go…Good girl. You did so well for me, baby. So perfect,” she started kissing down your body, “Now mommy’s gonna clean you up…” She finally let go of your wrist, putting your legs together and bending them against your chest, your pussy now completely exposed to her. She used her fingers to spread your pussy lips apart. She watched as her cum leaked out of you and almost moaned at the sight.

“God look at how messy you are…” she leaned down and ran her tongue over your entrance, licking up her own cum. She lapped at your sensitive core, moaning at the taste of the two of you combined, “You taste so good, baby.”

You squirmed against her mouth, your pussy already too sensitive. Agatha chuckled and wrapped her arms around your thighs, holding you in place as she continued to eat you out. She was going to make sure you were completely clean.

“Stay still, honey. Mommy’s not done with you yet.”

“But it h-hurts-” She looked up at you with a mocking expression.

“I know it hurts, baby. That’s why you’re going to be a good girl and take it, isn’t that right?”

She nipped at your inner thigh before diving back down between your legs. You reluctantly nodded, letting her lap over your puffy folds and sucking on your clit. She moaned against your clit, enjoying the taste of your juices. She swirled her tongue around it before sucking on it again, pulling it into her mouth and teasing it with her teeth.

“Mmmm…there we go,” she kissed your clit before letting go of your legs, “All done.” She pulled you into a kiss, shoving her tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. You whined against her lips, finding it hard to keep up. She just chuckled and pulled away.

“Come on, baby. Let’s give you a bath.” She started picking and you absolutely melted into her. She set you on the bathroom counter while she filled the bath. You simply watched her as she put bubbles in the bath and made sure the water was at a good temperature.

Once the bath was ready, she gently picked you up and lowered you into the warm water. She sat behind you, letting you lean against her chest. She began washing your body with a soft washcloth, making sure to be extra gentle with you. When she got close to your core, you stiffened slightly, still sensitive from your orgasm and her tongue. She chuckled softly, noticing your reaction.

“Aww, is my baby still sensitive?” She pressed her fingers against your clit. You tried to swat her hand away and clench your thighs together but she took your wrist and held them against your chest while using her own legs to keep yours open.

“Just give mommy one more orgasm and we’ll be all done, okay?” She said, already playing with your clit, rubbing it in small circles.

“It hurts mommy…” you mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.

“I know it hurts, baby. But you can do it,” she continued to tease your clit, rubbing it faster and harder, “Don’t you want to make mommy proud?”

“Y-yes-” she smiled and rewarded you by letting go of your wrist and wrapping her free hand around your throat, gently squeezing it.

“That’s my good girl. Keep being good for mommy and I’ll make you feel so good, okay?” The pain finally turned into pleasure and your body pathetically melted to Agatha’s once again. Her grip on your throat tightened slightly making you light headed.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this, darling. All weak and pathetic. You’re mine to use however I want, aren’t you?” She slipped two fingers inside you, making you mewl like a dog in heat.

“I’m close!” You moaned as she nibbled on your earlobe before whispering in your ear.

“Good. Come for me, baby. Come for mommy one more time and I’ll let you rest.” Your hands clung to the hand that was still tightly wrapped around your neck for dear life as you came again. Agatha grinned, loving the way you clung to her like she was the only thing keeping you alive. How pathetic and adorable.

She kept her hand around your neck, slowly applying pressure as you came. Once you came down from your high, she loosened her grip and rubbed your neck softly, admiring the redness she left behind.

“That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you,” she soothed you, combing through your wet hair until the water in the bath became cold. She got out first, getting a towel for you before helping you out.

She gently wrapped you the towel, setting you down on the counter once again to brush the knots out of your hair. Once she was done, she wrapped the towel around you tighter and lifted you, cradling you in her arms like a small child.

“It’s time to go to sleep, my sweet girl. You must be so tired huh?” she sat you down in the bed while she went to get you some pj. She made sure to be quick noticing how droopy your eyes looked. She came back a moment later with some soft, silk pajamas for you. She gently dressed you in them before tucking you into bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

“Comfortable, Angel?”

“Aren’t you going to stay, Aggie?” Agatha smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Of course, I am, darling. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You promise?” She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I promise, sweetheart. You’re mine, I’m not going anywhere. Now get some sleep.”

[genshinluvr]

Territorial

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader, Zhongli x Isekai'd!Reader x Neuvillette

Summary: Things seem to be going well when the men from Fontaine moved into the abode. Or at least that's what the others thought. You, however, can sense some tension between Zhongli and Neuvillette.

Note: How long has it been since I've posted something? A year? Over a year? Either way, I am somewhat back! Since I haven't posted fanfics in a long time, the new fanfics will be shorter compared to the previous fanfics. I'm slowly easing myself back into posting fanfics. This fic is most likely awful, but that's okay because it's been a while. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: I haven't written in a while, so, it's probably a shit fanfic LMAO

Word Count: 4.5k

Ever since the men of Fontaine decided to move into the abode, things were relatively fine. The men got along with each other, and there have yet to be any arguments or physical altercations. Yet. However, you couldn’t help but notice a certain someone avoiding one of the new members of the abode. You weren’t sure if everyone noticed the brewing tension between an Archon and the Iudex, but it was subtle yet noticeable (to you). 

The men didn’t have an issue sharing your love, affection, and attention with the others. While there are certain men who can be quite possessive (Childe), it usually never gets out of hand. Or, at least, that’s what you thought. Zhongli has been clingy lately— not that you’re complaining, but it was a little bit unusual because he’s not publicly affectionate. Even if he is openly affectionate with you, it wouldn’t be overbearing. Okay, maybe overbearing isn’t the right word to describe it.

“Maybe territorial is the best way to describe it.” You mutter.

Zhongli hums beside you, looking over at you curiously. “Care to repeat that, dearest?”

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts before rubbing the back of your neck with a sheepish smile. “Oh, nothing! I was trying to find a word to describe a Rishboland Tiger for my word puzzle!” You gesture to the word puzzle book in front of you. 

Zhongli leans toward you, peering over your shoulders and at the word puzzle in front of you. His amber eyes scan the page as if he’s checking to see if you’re doing the puzzle correctly. Thankfully, you are! Zhongli hums, stroking the rim of his teacup, preoccupied with the puzzle book. You rub your eyes before glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s almost eight in the morning, and yet here you are! Usually, you’d be in bed, sleeping the morning away until someone forces you out of bed (the person forcing you to wake up is usually Al Haitham). 

“And territorial would be correct,” Zhongli nods, smiling at you, “you’re doing well.”

You smile shyly before covering your now very warm face with the word puzzle book. Zhongli chuckles, pressing a kiss on the side of your head before proceeding to stir his warm cup of tea. A comfortable silence falls over you and Zhongli. Aside from you and Zhongli, everyone is still asleep in their respective rooms. Well, aside from Childe and Wriothesley because the two men decided to become gym buddies who get up at ungodly hours to workout, spar, and box. Given Childe's past in Fontaine, you can’t help but find it slightly odd.

Heels clicking against the floors of the abode pulls you and Zhongli out of the comfortable silence. Zhongli lets out a long exhale through his nostrils before taking a long sip of his tea, looking elsewhere. You look to see Neuvillette standing at the entrance of the dining area, gazing at you and Zhongli with surprise.

“Good morning, [Y/N], … Archon,” Neuvillette says, stepping farther into the room.

You smile at Neuvillette, waving at the Iudex. “Morning, Neuvillette! I’m surprised to see that you’re awake around this time of day.”

Neuvillette chuckles, pulling a seat out from beside you before sitting. “I could say the same thing for you, [Y/N]. You’re never up this early, but today is different. Why?” Neuvillette looks at you intently. 

A look of surprise flashes across your face before you smile at the Fontainian man. “Zhongli asked me to join him for breakfast, and here I am!”

Neuvillette hums, nodding. “I see. Now, did Deus Auri rouse you from your slumber for breakfast, or was this initially planned the day before?” Neuvillette interrogates.

You blink at Neuvillette and turn to look at Zhongli, who looks visibly annoyed with the Iudex. Zhongli gives Neuvillette a tight-lipped smile before sipping his tea, unanswering Neuvillette’s question. Without you knowing, Neuvillette shoots a subtle glare at Zhongli while Zhongli continues to drink his tea, ignoring the discreet yet heated glare thrown his way. You clear your throat before turning towards Neuvillette, only to see him brushing a stray hair away from his face. 

You can’t help but admire Neuvillette’s long hair. His hair looks so soft, and you kind of want to run your fingers through them. “I wonder what kind of hair products he uses. His hair looks so silky and healthy.”

“Oh, nothing special in particular. If you like to know what I use for my hair care routine, I can show you.” Neuvillette suggests. 

You stare at Neuvillette owlishly, mouth agape. “Did I say that out loud?”

Neuvillette smiles and takes a sip from his chalice while you’re sputtering and looking over at the Funeral Consultant with wide eyes. Should you reply to Neuvillette’s offer? But he has a hair care routine! Wait, if he has a hair care routine, is it possible that Neuvillette might have a skincare routine? Your hand starts to tremble— not out of fear, but excitement and a bit of anxiousness because you accidentally said your thoughts out loud.

Zhongli stares at Neuvillette before placing a hand over your trembling ones. “To answer your question, Monsieur Neuvillette, I invited [Y/N] to breakfast the day prior,” Zhongli says, grabbing Neuvillette’s attention. “Isn’t that right, dearest?”

You smile and nod. “That is correct! Zhongli invited me to breakfast yesterday afternoon! We walked around the abode, watched the sunrise, and here we are!” You gesture to the table happily. 

Neuvillette presses his lips in a thin line, nodding. The three of you continue to sit in silence in the dining room, listening to birds sing in the distance. The more you continue with the puzzle book, the more you become confused. You start to bounce your right leg, tapping the pencil against the booklet, staring at number fifty. 

“How the hell did I get into the Akademiya when I’m struggling with this damn puzzle?” You mumble to yourself.

“The answer is Fortress of Meropide,” Neuvillette says, his voice right next to your ear. 

You pause and look at Neuvillette, freezing, when you realize how close your faces are. You can’t help but notice Neuvillette briefly looking down at your lips before making eye contact with you. If your face wasn’t feeling hot already, then it is now. The longer you gaze into Neuvillette’s eyes, the more you realize how breathtaking he is. 

“You have long lashes.” You mutter.

Before Neuvillette can respond, Zhongli clears his throat loudly. Your eyes quickly dart to your puzzle book, breaking eye contact with the handsome and breathtaking Iudex of Fontaine. Fortress of Meropide, huh? You scribble down the answers, and lo and behold, the words fit into the small boxes perfectly. 

You press your lips into a thin line, looking at Neuvillette from the corner of your eyes. “Thank you for helping me,” you whisper.

Neuvillette hums softly, taking a sip of water from the chalice. “You’re welcome. If you need any other assistance, I am more than happy to help.” Neuvillette says.

The clock ticks away, and you find yourself in another comfortable silence. Only this time, the silence isn’t as comfortable as before. Is Zhongli sitting much closer to you than he was a few minutes ago? Neuvillette keeps glancing over your shoulders, watching you write the answers in the boxes. It’s almost like both men are glaring at each other when you're not looking (they are, but you’re trying your best to act like you didn’t notice the ever-growing tension between the two refined men).

The door to the abode suddenly bursts open, and Wriothesley and Childe enter, drenched in sweat and with a towel around their necks. Childe and Wriothesley stop at the entrance, looking at the three of you with surprise.

Childe points an accusing finger at you three, “Why are you two all up in my snookum’s space?” Childe marches over, huffing and puffing about Zhongli and Neuvillette's lacking manners when being around you— his precious snookums who can do no wrong in his eyes. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, chuckling while wiping the sweat from his forehead with the white towel around his neck.

“Geez, Childe, you can’t hog them to yourself,” Wriothesley mutters, watching the ginger-haired man snatch you up from your seat. 

You’re thrashing in Childe’s arms, swatting at him while muttering how sweaty he is. Childe ignores your protest and drapes his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into your hair. You shudder, feeling his sweaty skin stick to yours— almost melting and becoming your second skin. 

Your nose scrunches up with disgust when you catch a whiff of his sweat. “You’re sweaty and smelly. Go take a shower,” you order, patting his head— only to regret it immediately. 

Childe shakes his head, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “How can I shower in peace when I witnessed my snookums sandwiched between two men who aren’t me?” Childe looks up from your neck, glaring at Zhongli and Neuvillette, who, in return, glare back at him. 

You poke Childe’s forehead. “Can you let go of me? I have a puzzle to finish.”

Childe shakes his head. “I’m not letting go of you until you return my hug, snookums.”

Sometimes, you underestimate Childe’s stubbornness and clinginess. It’s not like you don’t want to hug him! You love his hugs! However, you have an issue with hugging people when you or that person is sweaty— you don’t know why, but you don’t like it and cannot tolerate the feeling of stickiness. You grumble under your breath and reluctantly wrap your arms around Childe’s waist, squeezing your eyes shut when you feel Childe’s sweat seep through his shirt. Childe sighs happily and peppers your face with kisses, making sure to make it loud enough for the others to hear the obnoxious smooching noises. 

“That’s enough, Childe,” Zhongli says sternly, glaring at Childe from where he’s sitting.

Neuvillette huffs, swishing the water in his chalice while muttering, “Have some decorum, Harbinger.”

Childe pauses what he’s doing and glances over at Zhongli and Neuvillette. The two men shoot daggers in Childe’s direction, and Childe can see the veins on their foreheads threatening to pop. With a shit-eating grin, Childe proceeds to do what he was doing earlier— suffocate you with his kisses in front of the very irritated Zhongli and Neuvillette and an amused Wriothesley.

Wriothesley shakes his head, snorting, “He’s just fucking with you two, and you two are letting him win.”

Zhongli and Neuvillette don’t respond afterward; they only continue to glare at Childe from the corners of their eyes. After some time, Childe finally releases you from his sweaty grasp, though not before placing one last sloppy kiss on your face. You give Childe a tight-lipped smile before debating whether you should take a shower or continue your puzzle book.

“Snookums~!” Childe whines, sniffling dramatically.

Wriothesley rolls his eyes with a snort. “You’re even clingier than [Y/N] claimed,” Wriothesley smirks, pushing himself away from the counter before sauntering to where you stand.

You look at Wriothesley, suddenly feeling on edge. Why is he suddenly approaching you with that smug grin on his face? Is he up to something? Wriothesley pushes Childe to the side, causing the ginger-haired man to stumble and glare at the Duke. 

Before Wriothesley can say anything, you hold up an index finger. “What are you up to?” you ask cautiously.

Wriothesley laughs, his laughter sending tingles down your spine. “I’m just testing something. Relax for me,” He murmurs. 

You audibly gulp, causing the man before you to let out an airy laugh, his canines shining under the dining room lights. Wriothesley, now standing three feet in front of you, gestures to you to step forward with his index and middle finger. You inch forward, feeling multiple eyes on the back of your head as you get closer to Wriothesley. 

Once you’re standing in front of Wriothesley, you look anywhere but his face, worrying the smug smile will send you to your knees. Noticing your lack of eye contact, Wriothesley gently grabs you by the chin, tilting your head up. Archons, is the dining room hot, or is it just you? Wriothesley gazes into your eyes, the corner of his lips quirking up. With his free hand, Wriothesley caresses your cheek before chuckling. “My, my. Your face is quite hot. Are you feeling alright, dollface?” 

“You’re up to something, I just know it,” You whisper, narrowing your eyes at him.

Wriothesley chuckles, leans down, and murmurs into your ears, “As I said earlier, I’m just testing something. Do you trust me?” His breath fans your ear and the side of your face, causing goosebumps to form on your body.

He’s up to something, and the alarms are going off in your head. You’re not worried about what Wriothesley is up to! What you’re worrying about is how Childe (and Neuvillette and Zhongli) are going to react to what Wriothesley is going to do. Wriothesley leans down toward your neck, catching a whiff of your lotion and body wash. “Hmm, you smell nice. Are you wearing the lotion I bought for you while I was away in Fontaine?” He pulls away and gazes at you with curiosity, his head tilting to the side.

You can’t help but melt under his gaze. You gulp again, nodding your head. Wriothesley nods and pulls away from you. Wriothesley strokes his chin, gazing at you intently. You can’t help but squirm under Wriothesley’s piercing stare. He suddenly places both beside your neck, tilting your head to the side.

“Good. It makes me happy to know you’re wearing something I got for you. I’ll get you more the next time I return to Fontaine for work,” Wriothesley nods.

Your eyes widen, and you quickly shake your head. “No, no! You don’t have to get me anything, Wriothesley! I insist!” You protest, placing your right hand over his left.

Zhongli clears his throat, grabbing your and Wriothesley’s attention. If Zhongli hadn’t been annoyed already, then he certainly is now. Wriothesley clears his throat before walking away— but not without kissing the side of your head. Zhongli sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering incoherent words to himself. You swallow the lump in your throat before sitting back down. 

Neuvillette hums, stroking his chin. “There is a rather compelling trial that is being held at the Opera Epiclese. Your thoughts and presence would be most welcome should you wish to observe the proceedings alongside me.”

Your eyes light up, and you gasp with excitement. “Ooh, I can!? I would love to join you, Neuvillette!” You squeal, clapping your hands.

It’s not like you’re excited to see someone get possibly executed— what you’re looking forward to is being able to witness how trails take place in Fontaine. Instead of witnessing the trial from behind your computer screen, you get to see it with your very own eyes! 

Zhongli clears his throat. “Dearest, I must remind you that you have some projects to turn in today at the Akademiya.”

Your eyes widen, and the pencil in your hand clatters on the table. Wait, what project!? You have projects to turn in at the Akademiya!? You rack through your brain, trying to recall if you really did have projects that need to be submitted. 

Neuvillette narrows his eyes at Zhongli, raising an eyebrow with skepticism. Zhongli ignores Neuvillette’s stare and proceeds to sip from his teacup. Right when you’re about to open your mouth to question Zhongli, Al Haitham enters the dining room, dressed and ready for the day. 

You sigh in relief, push yourself up from your seat, and stride to the Scribe. “Al Haitham! Can you help me jog my memory really quick?”

Al Haitham raises his eyebrows at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course. What is it that you need me to assist you with?”

“I agreed to go watch today’s trial proceeding in Fontaine with Neuvillette, but Zhongli reminded me that I have a project to submit to the Akademiya today. My issue is that I cannot recall whether I do have a project to submit,” you explain, crossing your arms over your chest while tapping your foot on the ground impatiently. 

Al Haitham strokes his chin, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to recall any conversations he had with you regarding your upcoming deadlines with the Akademiya. Al Haitham nods wordlessly. You deflate and collapse to your knees, lying on the ground while sulking. 

“Eh? What happened to Windblume? They look heartbroken and defeated,” Venti says, strutting into the dining room while smoothing over the wrinkles on his shirt. “Was breakfast with blockhead disappointing?” Venti jokes, propping his hands on his hips.

You sigh and shake your head. You can’t be disappointed about the project submission preventing you from attending the Opera Epiclese with Neuvillette. Your project determines the fate of your future with the Akademiya, and you certainly cannot push the deadline back. Plus, you can’t be upset with Zhongli for reminding you of something so important. 

Venti extends his hands toward you; you grab his hands and stand up. You waddle over to the table and plop down between Zhongli and Neuvillette while sulking over missing the opportunity to witness a trial in person. 

You turn to Neuvillette, visibly disappointed, “Thank you for the invite, Neuvillette. I truly appreciate it, but I must decline your invitation due to pressing deadlines.”

Neuvillette’s gaze softens, reaching for your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You do not need to apologize, darling. There’s always a next time,” he smiles at you, “If you’d like, perhaps I can make some dinner reservations just for you and me.”

A hand slams down on the table, startling everyone in the room. If the others aren’t awake, they certainly are now. You look over where the commotion is from, only to see Childe huffing and puffing with a pout. Oh, Archons, you forgot Childe is still in the same room. 

“Snookums! How can you forget about me?” Childe whines.

You laugh nervously and rub the back of your neck with your unoccupied hand. You give Neuvillette and Zhongli a sympathetic look before getting ready to leave your seat to comfort Childe. Before you can stand up, Zhongli grabs your other hand and gently pushes you down, shaking his head.

“No need to console him, dearest,” Zhongli says, shooting a pointed look in Childe’s direction.

Childe puckers his lips and groans, turning around and stomping away. You sigh for the umpteenth time, resting your head on the table. Zhongli and Neuvillette both squeeze your hand to comfort you.

Since that day, things have been getting worse between the two men when you’re in the same room as the duo. Whenever you try to make time with Neuvillette, Zhongli would take that chance to tag along. Now, you’re not against Zhongli tagging along with you, but you’re sort of worried about his safety because of the look Neuvillette would throw in Zhongli’s direction. You’re not sure if the men aren’t aware that you can sense the tension between them, but if they do, they don’t seem to care about it. A week (or has it been two weeks?) passes by, and you’re eating dinner with the men in the dining room.

Usually, there isn’t assigned seating at the dining table since you want to be able to sit next to every person in the abode without leaving a single person out. But for some reason, not long after the men from Fontaine moved into the abode, Zhongli and Neuvillette decided that the empty seats beside you (anywhere you sit at the dining table, pretty much) were theirs to claim.

“But Onikabuto booboo bear! I want you to sit next to me this time!” Itto whines, laying the top half of his body on the table while giving you puppy dog eyes, his bottom lips jutting out before fake crying.

Neuvillette raises his eyebrows at Itto beside you, stroking his chin. “Onikabuto booboo bear? Is that supposed to be a nickname for [Y/N]?” Neuvillette murmurs.

Itto stops his act and looks at the Iudex with excitement, nodding rapidly. Itto quickly removes himself from the table before running over to your side of the table (which took a while because the table is quite long). Once he arrives at your side of the table where you, Zhongli, and Neuvillette are sitting, Itto pulls out an empty seat beside Neuvillette and plops down with a heavy sigh.

“In case you haven’t been, uh, informed about how things work around here…” Itto trails off, scratching his head as he tries to find the right words to say, “We,” he gestures to the men in the dining room, “have pet names for our sweet Onikabuto booboo bear.”

Itto places both hands on his hips; a smug smile graces his face. You snicker and shake your head. Zhongli wraps his arms around your waist and plants a kiss on your cheek, ignoring the looks Neuvillette and Childe are giving him. 

“Oh? Please do tell me more about this, Itto. I have been calling [Y/N] “darling,” are we supposed to have a unique nickname for them?” Neuvillette asks, tilting his head while looking at Itto with pure curiosity.

Itto blinks at the Iudex with wide eyes, “Uh…” he trails off, scratching the back of his head before looking over in your and Zhongli’s direction. “Not really. I guess it depends on preferences! I call them Onikabuto booboo bear because, well, I love Onikabutos almost as much as I love [Y/N]! As for the booboo bear part, I wanted it to be unique for them and only for them. Heh, I bet other people on Teyvat wouldn’t be able to come up with someone as interesting and unique as the nickname I give to my Onikabuto booboo bear!” 

You can’t help but melt at Itto’s response. You know that Itto loves his Onikabutos, and hearing his explanation of the nickname he gave you makes you feel so warm and soft inside. You pull away from Zhongli’s grasp, get up from your seat, and walk over to Itto. You wrap your arms around Itto’s shoulders and rest your left cheek on his head, stroking his hair.

“You’re too sweet, Itto. You’re going to make me cry,” you coo, reaching down to pinch his cheek.

Itto’s face turns bright red as he mumbles incoherent words. Noticing the look that Zhongli and Neuvillette shoot in his direction, an idea pops into his head. Itto wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face into your chest, making sure not to accidentally poke you with his horns.

Kaveh huffs, propping his head on his elbow. “Hey, Abyss Mage, how come you give them more attention than the rest of us?”

“They love me more, that’s why!” Itto shouts, sticking his tongue out at the miffed architect. Neuvillette lifts his hand to say something, but Itto quickly stands up and lifts you from the ground. “Ha! They’re mine now, losers!” 

“Wha— Itto!” You screech when Itto takes off with you in his arms.

How Itto runs away with you in his arms reminds you of a mother cat carrying her kitten, but in this case, it’s Itto carrying you. The men stand up, shouting at Itto and groaning as they watch the Oni sprint out of the dining room with you while laughing manically. 

Baizhu chuckles, rubbing his temples as he watches the other men leave their seats to chase after you and Itto while shouting profanities. “I’ll be getting the first aid kit, just in case something happens,” Baizhu says, getting up from his seat to go to the infirmary area of the abode. 

You should’ve known that Itto is a magnet for trouble, but while he’s running up the stairs with you in his arms, his feet slip, sending you two tumbling down the stairs. While Neuvillette’s tending to your injuries with Baizhu, Zhongli scolds the pouting Oni.

Neuvillette caresses your face in his hands, “Are you alright? You took a hard tumble down the stairs, and I’m worried about the possibility of you sustaining some injuries.”

“I mean, my arm does hurt, but—”

“Do you guys hear that?” Thoma asks.

Everyone in the room pauses, listening closely. There’s a soft pitter-patter sound coming from the roof. The sound isn’t loud, but it’s noticeable if you sit in a quiet room and listen closely. You continue to rub the arm you landed on, trying to decipher what’s making the pitter-patter noise.

“Is it raining?” Tighnari strokes his chin, heading towards the nearest window, while Aether runs toward the window. 

Scaramouche raises his eyebrows at Tighnari, crossing his arms over his chest. “Since when can it rain in the abode? Maybe you’re hearing things that aren’t correlated with the weather.”

Tighnari ignores Scaramouche’s comment and stands beside Aether in front of the window. Aether peeks from between the curtains before turning to everyone else in the room with wide eyes.

“It can rain in the abode?” Aether asks.

You furrow your eyebrows and get up from your spot, clutching your throbbing arm to your chest. Zhongli places a gentle hand on your shoulder, accompanying you to the window. 

Ayato hums, tapping his chin while watching the raindrops pelt the window. “I never knew that the abode can have such weather. It seems like the rain is getting heavy.”

“Now that I think about it, I believe that it has been a bit gloomier these past few weeks,” you murmur, staring at the dark gray skies from the comfort of the estate with the men who care about you.

The men look at Zhongli before looking over at Neuvillette, who ignores the others' burning holes in his head as he drinks his water elegantly. Zhongli lightly taps your shoulder to grab your attention. You look at Zhongli quizzically while he examines your injured arm with discontentment. 

A small smile appears on Zhongli’s face as he caresses your cheek with one hand. “Let’s get your injury checked. I’m sure Doctor Baizhu has yet to complete the examination.”

Lightning crackling across the sky and thunder filling the air startles everyone in the abode. The heavy rain seems to have gotten worse, and it doesn’t seem like it’ll get better any time soon. Aether clears his throat and gets between you and Zhongli with a polite yet awkward smile. “I’ll take [Y/N] to see Doctor Baizhu, Mister Zhongli.”

Before Zhongli can respond, Aether quickly whisks you away while avoiding the stares from Zhongli and Neuvillette. Baizhu and Aether rush you to another room while the men remain in the same spot, not moving a limb.

Dottore snorts, shaking his head, “Who knew these two men are childish.”

Neuvillette and Zhongli glare at Dottore. A tree branch knocks against the living room window as the rain pelts the roof and window. 

Note: Finally posted something after so long! 😭 The fanfic is most likely awful, but I kind of want to make a part two for it, but I'm not entirely sure if I should. Man, since this is posted, now I have to plan what else to post... aside from the HSR fanfics. I think I'll post a fanfic for HSR instead of Genshin this upcoming week, but I'm not entirely sure. I might change my mind, but who knows. Anywho! To all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

I didn't initially plan on have a taglist for this fic, but since someone requested to be tagged in this fic, I will tag them! Taglist for this fic: @rubyninja1

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[jupiterpilgrim]

The Pleasure Equation: When the Nerd Solves Everything, Including You

Nayeon x Male Reader

word count: 8.2k

a/n: Yo, my first published smut. I hope you like it. Feel free to tell me what you think.

—

You're lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling and wondering why, in the 21st century, universities still think pairing people for projects is a good idea. Plus, you're terrible at this subject. Advanced Calculus? They might as well call it "How to Ruin My Weekend." The only saving grace is that your partner, Nayeon, the biggest nerd in class, will handle most of it. For you, it seems like a golden ticket: she does the work, and you pretend you helped. It was the perfect plan. What could go wrong?

The doorbell rings. Of course, it’s her. You were expecting it—you could almost time Nayeon's nerdy punctuality. And, as always, she looks like the picture-perfect good girl—cardigan, glasses, skirt, that innocent, serious air of someone more interested in spreadsheets than in people. The kind of girl most guys wouldn't look at twice. But you, well, you had to look. It was obligatory since she was going to carry your weight in this project.

You open the door, and there she is, laptop under her arm, shy smile and everything you imagined. The nerd who's here to save your semester.

What you didn’t know—and God knew you were about to find out—is that Nayeon had planned a different type of study for this project.

She walks in with that confident stride that only people who are either extremely smart or who know the subject is your lifeline have. And honestly, you’re not ready for the energy she brings.

“Hi,” she says, glancing around your house, skipping any small talk.

“Hey, Nayeon. Nice to have you here.” You try to sound more enthusiastic than you really are. “Want anything? Water, juice, tea?” you offer, hoping to buy yourself a few more minutes of procrastination before facing the project.

“No, thanks.” She looks at you over her glasses, almost as if she’s analyzing your soul. “I think we should just get started. The sooner we finish, the better.”

“Yeah, better,” you think. And with that, off you go to your bedroom. Yes, the bedroom, because it’s the only place in the house that seems even remotely presentable. There are piles of books (that you haven’t read, just skimmed for the basics), notebooks with ridiculously short notes you took, some clothes scattered here and there... oh, and your unmade but perfectly comfortable bed, where you sit on the edge. It was a clinically tidy room compared to the living room or the kitchen.

Nayeon doesn't seem to care about anything. She sits at the desk chair and opens her laptop.

The project, of course, is about "Modeling Algebraic Functions for the Optimization of Industrial Processes." Or something equally mind-numbing that only Nayeon seems to understand. You’re more lost than someone trying to solve a Rubik's cube in the dark. And it’s all because of your dad, who, in his non-threatening way, persuaded you to follow the family career path. Damn Engineering (and tradition).

Nayeon, as always, is already deep into the work, fingers flying over the keyboard while her glasses slip to the tip of her nose, balancing dangerously between focused nerd and, well... ¿sexy? nerd?

Not that you’d admit that.

She glances at you, and for a second, you almost feel like she expects you to say something useful. Which, of course, would be a grave miscalculation. Literally.

“So, I thought you could start with the part about differential equations,” she says, making the suggestion with the ease of someone asking you to hold a cup, when what she’s really offering is a grand piano. “And then the graphs…”

You pretend to be genuinely interested. Which means nodding in a way that could be mistaken for understanding if someone looked quickly, but in reality, you're utterly lost.

“Oh, sure, differential equations…” you repeat, as if the words held any special meaning. They don’t.

Nayeon sighs and goes back to typing, clearly aware of the level of uselessness you're operating at. She’s probably already mentally dividing the entire project, calculating how many extra hours she'll need to cover for the fact that you're, essentially, dead weight.

“Maybe you could review the introduction,” she suggests, polite but with the patience of someone talking to a child who still doesn’t know the difference between shapes.

You scratch your head, pretending to read the introduction she’s already written. One, two lines. Everything looks very... professional. You attempt to seem helpful:

“You know, I think you’re... um... doing great with this. Maybe... maybe I should focus more on the creative part of the project, like... the presentation design?” you suggest, smiling, as if making a PowerPoint full of silly animations was an undervalued talent in academia.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Design?” Nayeon asks, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “In an Advanced Calculus project? You want to fill the presentation with glitter and stars, is that it?”

“Hey, glitter makes everything better,” you reply, defensive, but unable to suppress a smile. “Maybe throw in some memes to lighten the mood… People love memes... I guess.”

“I’m not sure if you're joking or if you've completely given up on life,” Nayeon mutters, with a short, dry laugh, returning to the keyboard.

You shift on the bed, trying to find a position that seems less like a desperate student and more like someone slightly focused on the project. The silence is broken only by the sound of her typing and your occasional murmur of fake approval: “Hmm, sure, that makes sense…”

It doesn’t.

Then, out of nowhere, Nayeon looks at you again, but this time with a different kind of curiosity. There’s something in her eyes, something that goes beyond pure calculation—and we’re not talking about the equations.

“You live alone, right?” The question comes casually, almost innocently. Almost.

“Uh, yeah, I do,” you answer, a bit confused by the sudden shift. “Why?”

“Just... curious,” she replies, but the smile she gives is far from innocent. “It must be nice living alone. I bet you can do whatever you want, right? No one around to hear...”

“Yeah, kind of,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “Like... I can have pizza for breakfast without being judged. And play video games late. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.”

Nayeon laughs, but in a way that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable, like she knows something you don’t.

“And... what do you mean by ‘do whatever you want’?” you ask, hesitant but unable to resist the curiosity.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, looking away for a second. “Just thinking... it must be interesting. Having that kind of freedom.”

She pauses and looks directly at you again, her fingers sliding slowly across the keyboard, as if the project was now the last thing on her mind.

“Tell me something... what’s your type?” The question lands like a stone thrown into a calm lake, sending ripples of confusion through you.

You almost choke.

“My... type?” you repeat, as if it’s a math problem with too many variables.

“Yeah, like... what do you find attractive in someone?” Nayeon continues, her voice far too casual for the situation. She leans forward slightly, her eyes locked on yours.

“Well, I dunno.” You shift uncomfortably. “I guess... someone fun, you know? Someone who can make me laugh.”

“Hmm. And me?” Nayeon tilts her head, her glasses now low enough to reveal her sharp eyes behind them. “Do I make you laugh?”

You freeze, because the right answer to this feels like a trap.

Sure, Nayeon’s made you laugh plenty of times, especially when she freaks out over losing half a point on a test. But that doesn’t seem like the kind of "laugh" she’s asking about.

“Uh, yeah, of course!” you respond, quickly. “I mean, in a good way. Not that I’m laughing *at* you, but... you know what I mean, right?”

She smiles, and you’re not sure if she’s satisfied with your answer or just amused by your nervousness.

“You know,” Nayeon continues, “I think I prefer guys who... know what they want. Guys with attitude.”

You nod, trying to process what’s happening.

“Oh, sure. Attitude is always good, right?” you reply, having no idea where this conversation is heading.

She looks at you in a way that feels almost predatory, and you realize that, somehow, whatever control you thought you had over this situation (even a little) now belongs entirely to her.

“Do you have it?” she asks. “Attitude?”

At that moment, you realize two things: first, Nayeon isn’t interested in solving differential equations today. And second, you probably should’ve agreed to do the graphs.

You feel the pressure of the question like a multiple-choice exam where all the answers seem wrong.

"Now?" you stammer, as if time itself is about to collapse. "Uh… I don’t know, I think we’re in the middle of a project, right? I wouldn’t want to interrupt…"

"Interrupt?" She lets out a short laugh. "I think work went out the window a long time ago, don’t you?"

With that, she stands up, closing the laptop, and starts walking slowly around the room, as if inspecting the space, or maybe just teasing you on purpose. Every step she takes seems more choreographed than anything you’ve ever seen on stage.

Suddenly, she stops, untying her hair and shaking it loose.

"You know," she continues, turning her gaze back to you, "I thought of a way to make things more interesting."

Your brain, of course, is already in full panic mode, but your mouth, as always, insists on trying to sound casual.

"Really? Interesting how?" you ask, hoping the answer isn’t something like "Russian roulette."

She crosses her arms. You realize that, at some point, you completely lost any chance of controlling your own fate.

"A game," Nayeon says, with a sly smile. "Let’s play a game. What do you say?"

"What kind of game?" you ask, already regretting letting curiosity win over survival instinct.

"Oh, don’t worry, nothing too crazy," she replies, shrugging as if the suggestion were perfectly innocent. "Something fun, to relax, since the project clearly isn’t going anywhere today."

She steps closer to you, with that conspiratorial air of someone about to suggest something really dangerous.

"What do you think?" she whispers, lowering her voice. "You up for playing with me?"

"Err... depends on the game, right?" you reply, trying to sound laid-back.

Her eyes gleam behind her glasses, and the smile on her lips is pure provocation.

"Let’s see… How about something simple?" she suggests, her eyes never leaving yours. "Questions and answers. To test what you've been learning in the course."

"Just that?" you ask, half skeptical, half curious.

She speaks with a lightness that contrasts the intensity of her proposal:

"Of course not. For every question you get right, I’ll take off a piece of clothing."

You blink. Blink again. And then a third time, just to make sure you heard correctly.

"What?" you blurt out, a laugh escaping before you can control it. "You’re kidding, right?"

Nayeon crosses her arms, that crafty smile still on her face. Apparently, she’s not kidding.

"I’m dead serious. And if you manage to make me take off everything, I’ll give you a prize."

"A prize?" You try to keep your composure, but all you can think about is that maybe studying Calculus isn’t so bad after all. "What kind of prize?"

Nayeon doesn’t respond with words. Instead, she lifts her skirt just enough to reveal a glimpse of her panties — white, of course, because even in this, she has to be precise and teasing.

You swallow hard, your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Suddenly, the temperature in the room rises by five degrees, and it has nothing to do with global warming.

"Hm... okay, let’s go," you respond, trying to sound casual, but in reality, your mind is a complete mess. Who knew the class nerd had this side to her?

"Great." Nayeon giggles before adjusting her glasses and kicking off her shoes to, let’s say, get more comfortable. "First question: What’s the basic principle of algebraic function modeling applied to industrial process optimization?"

You stare at her. Of course, it wasn’t going to be an easy game. Your brain tries, with herculean effort, to remember what the hell that means.

"Hm… I think… it’s using equations to simplify a complex process?" you guess.

She smiles.

"Well, close enough. You got the general concept," she says.

She starts with the most innocent pieces, of course. The cardigan that you barely noticed she was wearing, because let’s be honest, your focus was more on the project — or on how not to do it... Well, at least that’s what you thought. Now, the focus has definitely changed. Every button that opens feels like a small personal victory. And before you know it, the cardigan is on the floor. She looks at you with a sly smile.

"Shall we continue?"

"Damn right, I’m enjoying this!"

"How do you define an improper integral?"

You blink. Of course, she’d come up with one of those questions you never knew the answer to.

"An… improbable integral?"

She laughs, a clear, almost musical sound that fills the room. If Nayeon were the type of person who enjoyed academically torturing others, she was definitely on the right track.

"I’ll give you a hint," she leans forward, just enough for you to see part of the top underneath her perfectly white blouse. "It has something to do with limits."

Limits. Of course. Yours are being tested in a different way. You vaguely remember the professor mentioning something about this, between naps.

"Oh, right! It’s when the interval goes to infinity, right?" you venture, your heart already beating faster.

"Correct!" She claps her hands, feigning innocent excitement that definitely doesn’t match the way her hands move toward the buttons of her blouse. One button, two, three... and soon, Nayeon’s blouse is off, revealing a black camisole, tight enough to show that she had planned all of this meticulously.

You exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Now, you’re invested in the game.

"Next question: What are the three most common methods to solve a system of linear equations?"

Linear equations? Of course, you slept through that class. But then… things start to click.

"Elimination, substitution, and… matrices."

"You’re getting the hang of it, huh?" she says, her voice almost a purr.

Without hesitation, she leans back a little and, with a slow, sensual gesture, removes the black camisole, now revealing a delicate white bra, almost the same shade as her skin.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, but somehow, you’re starting to enjoy the game, and oddly enough, math too. Well, this is definitely a more rewarding way to learn something you don’t like.

"Now an easier one," she teases, as if giving you a break. "How do you calculate the area under a curve?"

You swallow hard, not because of the question, but because Nayeon is crossing her arms in a way that’s far from casual, emphasizing even more what’s... well, on display.

"Definite integrals," you answer quickly, perhaps with more enthusiasm than necessary.

She gives a small round of applause, but this time doesn’t make any immediate move to take off anything else.

"Very good! But... are you sure you want to continue?" she asks, tilting her head, as her fingers rest on the zipper of her skirt.

You’re not sure if you want to continue the game or skip straight to the “prize,” but whatever it is, you need this girl naked. But for that you need to concentrate, but how would you do it? It's certainly not easy. Not when she runs her fingers, provocatively slow, to the zipper of her skirt.

“Alright, just one more, then,” she says, with a false lightness that only adds to the tension in the air, “a simpler one, I promise. If you get it right, I’ll take off one more piece. If you get it wrong… the game’s over.”

Your mind is racing, a mix of nerves and pure curiosity. After all, how did you end up here, being quizzed by Nayeon, The Nerd™? And now, The Nerd™ was about to strip.

Weird world.

“Okay… ask the question,” you say, trying to seem calm. Just trying.

Nayeon raises an eyebrow, still toying with the zipper of her skirt, but not pulling it down at all, just… waiting. “What’s Stokes' theorem?” she asks.

You almost laugh. Not really, more like a nervous chuckle that escapes before you realize… crap, you actually don’t remember.

“Erm…” you begin, desperately searching for some vague memory of a class you definitely slept through.

Nayeon doesn’t miss the look of panic on your face.

“Ah, struggling?” she asks, her voice sweetly sadistic. “How about a hint?” She leans in, the skirt still untouched, but in a deliberate move, she adjusts her bra, already more revealing than it should be, giving you a clear view of her generous cleavage.

You clear your throat, dying a little inside but trying to maintain your composure.

“Uh, it has to do with surface integrals, right? Something about flows… and vectors…”

“Exactly! Flows and vectors,” she repeats, satisfied. And then, in an almost innocent gesture, as if she were merely taking off an uncomfortable shoe after a long day, she pulls the zipper of the skirt, which slides down her legs, hitting the floor like it didn’t even matter, revealing her bare legs and white panties. Her thighs are even more perfect than you imagined—toned, lightly defined. Your throat dries up as if you’ve just run a marathon, but the only thing racing is your heart.

Honestly, you’re never really prepared for every time she gets more and more exposed. She places a hand on her hip, looking at you with that expression that makes you wonder how you never realized this before—that yes, Nayeon, the “nerd” of the class, was a girl far more complex than any Stokes theorem.

“So, what now? Want to continue or… are you satisfied?” She pouts adorably, challenging you, and you know, at that moment, that she wants you to keep going. After all, she’s having way too much fun.

You take a deep breath, determined, even though your mind is light-years away from any coherent thought.

“Sure. Next question. I’m going to win my prize.”

“What a determined guy,” Nayeon chuckles softly, with that teasing air, as if you were on a quiz show and not in some sort of erotically torturous strip game for the brave. “Alright then… explain the principle of superposition.”

She knew you had no idea. You knew that she knew. But what did it matter? What mattered was that your eyes were glued to every movement she made. She tilted her head, playing with the strap of her bra.

You think for a moment. Superposition… electric fields… sure, you got this.

“It’s when, hmm…” your voice cracks, but you force yourself to sound confident. “It’s when the sum of the effects of multiple causes is equal to the sum of the individual causes. Each field acts like the others aren’t even there.”

She leans in, subtly, fiddling with the strap of her bra, her eyes never leaving yours.

“Exactly,” she says, letting the strap fall with a slow motion from one shoulder. And then, from the other. “Congratulations.”

The bra falls to the floor.

You try, honestly try, to keep your focus on what’s happening, but there’s a problem. Actually, two, and both of them are right in front of you, fully exposed. No matter how much your mind insists that you need to concentrate on the game… you simply can’t.

“J-just one more question, right?” You stammer, desperately trying to focus on your shoes, the wall, anything but… well, Nayeon, and the fact that she was now practically naked.

She leans forward slightly, arms “casually” crossed, and you’re convinced she did this just to make sure your brain imploded. One of her breasts lightly brushes against her arm, and your mind screams something between HELP and THANK YOU.

"Exactly,” she says, and there’s a hint of malice in her voice, that tone that indicates she knows by now you’re one step away from a complete meltdown. “One last question. If you get it right… you win your prize. If you get it wrong… you’ll do the entire project alone.”

Your head throbs, struggling to focus on anything besides her smooth skin and the hair falling loosely over her shoulders.

“Alone?” you repeat, dumbfounded. A simple word, but you can barely get it out.

She bites her lip, enjoying herself. And then, in the most seductive voice possible, she drops the bomb:

“Of course… if you mess up now in the final minutes, you’ll have to do it all on your own. But if you get it right, you’ll see what’s under this,” she pulls at the side of her white panties slightly, just enough to let your imagination spin. “And who knows what else…” Her voice is a caress wrapped in pure temptation.

Yeah, it’s worth the risk.

Focus, you tell yourself, as if that’s remotely possible. Here you are, in a state of complete mental confusion, and Nayeon is there, almost naked, suggesting there’s just one question left before… well, paradise. And hell, too, because clearly, you wouldn’t survive doing this fucked-up project alone.

“Alright, let’s go,” you force the words out. “What’s the last question?”

Nayeon smiles in a way that says, I got you. And of course, she did. She leans in again, this time closer, her panties still firmly in place, but for how long?

“Ready for this?” she murmurs, with the tone of a final temptation. “What law of electromagnetism describes the relationship between the circulation of a magnetic field along a closed path and the electric current passing through the surface enclosed by that path?”

You freeze. Your mind is almost there, trying to grab the answer from some corner not focused on the fact that Nayeon is practically naked in front of you.

“Uh…” you begin, Nayeon sways her hips as she waits. “It’s… it’s…” you struggle. Nothing. Your mind is completely blank, a screen of static.

Nayeon sighs, as if she’s genuinely disappointed. Of course she’s not. She’s having way too much fun for that.

“Need a hint?” she offers, with a smile as sweet as it is devastating.

You nod desperately. Anything, for God’s sake, anything to help!

She whispers softly, “This law introduced the concept of ‘displacement current.’”

You blink, and then, as if by some miracle, the answer comes to you. But before you can speak it aloud, Nayeon leans in again and your traitorous eyes glance at her exposed breasts.

You almost forget the answer entirely, but a slip or whatever that was makes you say, “Ampère-Maxwell’s Law,” your voice trembling, unsure if physics is about to save you or be the last nail in the coffin of your sanity.

Nayeon looks you up and down.

She approved.

Slowly, as if savoring the moment, in a exaggeratedly calculated movement, she pulls her panties down, revealing everything.

Her curves are so smooth they seem hand-carved by some Renaissance artist with a thing for naughty nerd girls. Her entire body is a work of art, every inch of her pure perfection, and as she moves closer, you feel like you’re about to lose control for good.

Nayeon sits beside you, her legs slightly apart so you can see her tight little pussy. She looks you up and down, the same look that used to seem like someone fully focused on her studies, now carrying much more obvious intentions.

"Do you like what you see?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.

You swallow hard, trying not to seem as out of control as you really are.

"Yeah... Very much..." you respond, your voice rougher than usual, and before you know it, Nayeon is leaning in closer, her body heat practically radiating onto you.

"What are you waiting for, then?" she whispers, her lips just inches from yours. The suggestion lingers in the air, and your body seems to move on its own. Your hand rises, hesitant, until it reaches her breasts, your fingers feeling the smoothness of her skin and the firmness that makes you forget about any equation or college project. You squeeze lightly, and Nayeon lets out a soft sigh that drives you even crazier.

She leans in more, her lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes are gleaming.

"I’ve always liked you, you know?" she confesses, lightly biting her lower lip as her hand slides down your chest. "I've always thought you were really hot… and smart, too. You just needed a little help focusing on what matters. You’ve got potential, you just need to get rid of the distractions."

You chuckle nervously, still trying to process what’s happening.

"I never imagined you were like this… You always seemed so… well-behaved." The words come out with difficulty, your mind still reeling between what you thought you knew about Nayeon and what you're discovering now.

She laughs softly, amused, her eyes half-closed as she replies.

"You can’t judge a book by its cover," she says, her voice almost a whispered secret, as if she’s letting you in on something few people are privileged to know.

She then pulls your hand to her waist, and you squeeze, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body under your fingers. Nayeon’s body fits against yours in a way that feels almost orchestrated. Her hands, agile and confident, slide down to your thigh, in a way that makes your breathing quicken even more.

And then you feel her touch on your groin. It’s a slow tease, and she looks into your eyes with a smile that’s almost victorious.

"Do you want me to suck you off?" she asks, her voice thick with desire.

Your heart is racing so fast you can barely think of a coherent response, but you nod, without hesitation.

"I do." The word escapes your lips, more of a groan than a response.

Nayeon smiles, that wicked smile you would never have associated with the girl who sat in the front row of the class.

"I’ve been dying to," she murmurs, the heat between you two rising with each second, promising much more than just an intellectual debate.

Nayeon kneels between your legs and prepares to take off her glasses. At that moment, it seems like the last facade of the “well-behaved nerd” is about to fall along with them. But you, in a sudden impulse of something even Freud would hesitate to analyze, reach out and say, almost automatically, “No, leave the glasses on. I like you like that.”

She stops, her fingers still hovering over the frames, and smiles in a way only someone about to change your fate could.

"Really?" She tilts her head, clearly liking the idea. Not just liking it—loving it. The kind of smile she gives you is one of someone who’s just gained a new strategic advantage in the game.

"Can you… do it… with the glasses on?" you ask, and honestly, now that the words are in the air, the question seems less weird than it should.

"Of course. If that’s what you want," Nayeon replies, the smile gaining an edge of provocation that makes you wonder if she hadn’t planned this all along.

She reaches for your pants and pulls them down along with your underwear. Nayeon touches your cock, and the sensation makes you realize how small her hands are. With incredibly soft fingers, she grips it firmly, as if evaluating something rare, a treasure she’s just found. Her eyes, still behind the lenses, look up at you.

"Wow..." she murmurs, impressed. "It’s so… big and thick.”

If you had any chance of keeping your composure, it vanished with that sentence.

"Your hand… is so soft," you manage to say, your brain desperately trying to keep up with what’s happening.

Nayeon smiles.

"Oh, if you liked that, just wait until I put it in my mouth."

And that’s exactly what she does. Nayeon spits into her palm, the quick, indecent sound echoing in the room, and starts stroking you, her touch now sliding with the ease of something well-lubricated, almost clinical—if it weren’t absolutely pornographic.

And then, with little warning, she swallows.

Just like that. As if she’d been trained at some secret school of forbidden pleasure, her mouth wraps around your cock, warm, wet, and with a desire bordering on voracious. She looks up at you from below, her glasses still firmly in place.

You writhe in pleasure. Nothing else matters. Not the project, not life’s worries. Just Nayeon, and the way she sucks, kisses, and takes you deep, with a dedication that would make anyone believe she’s indeed “studying” something.

"I’m going to use my breasts now," she says, stopping briefly, her voice slightly hoarse, as she adjusts her breasts, squeezing them around your cock.

Ah, Nayeon’s breasts. Warm, soft, and incredibly seductive, they create the perfect “pillow” as she starts giving you a titjob. And the glasses? Still there, perfectly framing her face, turning this whole thing into an improbable, yet wonderful fantasy.

The sensation of her breasts pressing against your cock is a next-level delight. Nayeon, with a mischievous look and a voice barely above a whisper, asks, "Are you enjoying this, babe?"

You can only groan in response, the sensation so intense that words refuse to form properly. Her breasts move up and down, creating a warm, sweaty pressure that’s almost indescribable. She adjusts the rhythm.

"This is..." you manage to say, your voice hoarse and breaking. "Fuck, this is amazing."

The pleasure builds, a rising heat that seems to have a life of its own as Nayeon keeps working her magic. Her breasts, pressing and rubbing with delicious intensity, create waves of pleasure that only get stronger.

As the rhythm quickens, Nayeon gives a satisfied smile. Her breasts continue to move up and down, the sensation around your cock hot and wet, and you feel the pressure and heat mounting.

You start to squirm, the sensations growing more and more intense. The pleasure is so overwhelming it feels like your body is on the verge of exploding. Nayeon adjusts the pressure and pace, making every touch and movement you feel even more intense.

“Am I making you feel good?” Nayeon asks.

You can only nod, the feeling of being on the brink of climax almost overwhelming. Your moans become more frequent, and you can feel yourself nearing the point of no return... something Nayeon hadn’t anticipated.

Then, just as the pleasure reaches an almost unbearable level, you cum. The first spurt surprises her, landing on her face. She stays there, wide-eyed and gasping, her glasses now smeared with your semen. She accepts what happened and keeps stroking you, and the second, weaker spurt drips down onto her breasts, slowly trickling. She finishes the job by rubbing your cock on her chest, spreading your cum all over her breasts until they’re thoroughly messy. When she stops, you exhale, feeling like you’re in paradise.

“Fuck… that was so damn good, Nayeon…”

She stays still for a moment, her expression a mix of surprise and indignation. The intensity of your orgasm seems to have caught her so off guard that even she needs a moment to process it.

“Why did you cum?!” Nayeon asks, removing her glasses, her voice filled with a mix of irritation and unfulfilled desire. “You haven’t even fucked me yet!”

Breathless and slightly embarrassed, you try to defuse the situation.

“Well, take it as a compliment,” you say, a sheepish smile forming on your face. “You’re just too hot for me to handle.”

Luckily for you, this makes Nayeon smile, the irritation melting into a flush. She relaxes, though still with a teasing edge.

“Tsk. But next time, don’t cum on my glasses,” she says, her voice softer now. “But if it felt good for you, I guess I can forgive it. Just know that I’ll make sure you get hard for me again,” she says with an authority that makes her even more irresistible.

Nayeon moves closer, slowly, like a predator about to capture its prey, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of challenge and mischief. You feel the air shift as she approaches, as though the entire room is holding its breath for what’s about to happen.

“Take off your clothes,” she commands, her voice low but filled with an authority that makes you obey without hesitation.

In an instant, you’re naked, sitting on the bed, vulnerable, your heart pounding faster. Nayeon watches you, a smile spreading across her lips, like she’s admiring a masterpiece she’s about to perfect. She sits beside you with a calculated calm, and before you know it, her lips are on yours—soft at first, then more intense, as if she’s learning every inch of your mouth.

Between kisses, her hand starts exploring your body, moving slowly, until it reaches exactly where you want it most. Her fingers wrap around your cock, and the touch is... electrifying. It’s not just any touch; it’s the kind that knows exactly what it’s doing. She strokes you lightly, almost teasingly, while her lips pull away just enough for her to whisper in your ear:

“Remember that time in class when the professor asked me to help you with an assignment?” She pauses, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. “All I could think about was how much I wanted you to fuck me until I came.”

The effect of her words is immediate. Your entire body reacts before your mind can even catch up. Your cock pulses hard in her hand, almost as if it’s following an unspoken command. She feels it and giggles softly, a sound just as provocative as every move of her fingers.

“Look at you…” she says, her voice full of amusement and a hint of mockery. “You’re getting hard for me again, aren’t you? What a naughty boy.”

Your heart races, and you can hardly respond. All you can do is gaze at her while your desire skyrockets. Her hand moves slowly and deliberately, teasing every part of you, while her eyes stay locked on yours, as if savoring every second.

“How badly do you want to fuck me?” Nayeon asks, her voice soft but filled with a promise you know she’ll fulfill.

“So much,” you reply, almost breathless, anticipation taking over every inch of your being.

She smirks—that dangerous smile that says, "Exactly what I wanted to hear." Her lips return to yours, but this time there’s more urgency, a hunger building with every passing moment. Her hand moves with more intention now, and your excitement grows at an unimaginable rate.

“I knew you were like this…” she murmurs between kisses, her lips nearly glued to yours. “Such a horny little thing, always wanting more.”

She tightens her grip slightly, making you squirm, the pleasure coursing through you with every squeeze, every word whispered like a secret shared only with you.

“You like this, don’t you?” she asks, already knowing the answer. Her eyes glint as her hand continues its strategic work. “You like me teasing you.”

“Yes,” you manage to say, your voice shaky with desire.

Nayeon pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her smile blending amusement with seduction.

“Good, because I love teasing you…” she says, then leans down, as if she’s about to do something even more daring. Her lips brush against your neck, lightly biting as her hand slides lower, teasing and gripping, leaving you on the edge of collapse.

“Think you can handle another round?” she asks, her voice now full of challenge.

“There’s only one way to find out,” you respond, trying to keep your composure but knowing you’re completely at her mercy.

“Let’s see then,” she whispers against your skin, and before you know it, she’s moving down, her lips traveling across your body, and you lean back onto the bed. She leaves a trail of kisses and bites along your chest and stomach, making her way lower.

She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire, and with one final mischievous smile, she leans back up just enough to brush her lips against yours without fully kissing.

“Are you ready to fuck me now?” she asks.

And without a doubt, you are.

Nayeon lies back on the bed, slowly pulling you on top of her until you feel the warmth of her body against yours. The way she molds perfectly beneath you feels like she was made for this. Your hands trace the contours of her breasts, fingers pressing gently against her skin as you slide into her slowly, savoring every second. Your lips meet hers in a slow, intense kiss, tongues moving in sync with the rhythm of your hips—thrusting in and out, deepening with each stroke.

She moans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through your whole body, making you speed up a little while still keeping control. Nayeon breaks the kiss, throwing her head back, eyes closed, and you take the chance to kiss her neck, tasting the salty sheen of sweat. "You like this, don't you?" you whisper in her ear, your voice low and husky as you keep thrusting, feeling how tightly she clenches around you.

"Fuck… yes," she breathes out, her nails now digging into your back, scratching you with a mix of pain and pleasure. "Fuck me harder."

You obey without thinking, picking up the pace, each thrust deeper and more deliberate. Her moans grow louder, almost turning into screams, and it only drives you to go harder. You kiss her again, this time with more urgency, sucking her lower lip between yours as your hips move in a nearly frantic rhythm. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mixed with her broken moans and your own heavy breathing.

"You're so fucking hot," you say between kisses, softly biting along her jawline as you lose yourself in the sensation. "So tight… fuck, Nayeon."

She opens her eyes, looking at you with a mix of challenge and pleasure, her face flushed and sweaty. "Come on, fuck me harder… don’t stop," she pleads, pulling you down for another kiss, this one desperate, as if she needs every touch of yours to survive. You oblige, thrusting harder, while her moans turn into muffled cries as your mouths stay connected.

But then, you decide to switch positions. Science, after all, is about experimentation. You position her at the edge of the bed, Nayeon's legs lifted and spread wide, her pussy on full display—pink and pulsing, inviting. The sight makes you lose control for a moment as you grab her thighs, pulling her closer to you. With one hand, you line up your cock, the tip already slick with excitement, before sliding it inside, feeling the warmth wrap around you completely. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with both your moans.

Nayeon looks up at you, a wild gleam in her eyes, completely different from the girl everyone thinks they know. "You're such a filthy pervert," she growls through gritted teeth, her voice low and dripping with lust. "Fucking your study partner like this, so dirty… Do you see what you've done to me? The little nerd everyone thinks is so innocent, and look where I am now, all spread out for you…"

The sound of her voice, the moans slipping out as you fuck her harder and deeper, only makes you lose more control. "Innocent?" you mutter, your breathing ragged. "You pretend to be the good little student, but with me, you love being a slut, don’t you?"

She lets out a wicked laugh, cut off by a louder moan as you thrust even deeper. "I fucking love it. I love how you make me forget everything… I love being your little slut. I’m all yours, and you can do whatever you want to me."

Your movements grow faster, each thrust pulling louder moans from her. You grip her thighs tight, pulling her into you with each thrust, your eyes fixed on the sight of your cock sliding in and out, completely soaked. "Look at you," you growl, your voice dripping with taunt. "So depraved… No one would guess that the nerdy girl from class is here, begging to be fucked like a whore."

Nayeon lets out a long, drawn-out moan, almost a scream, her body arching beneath you, fingers gripping the sheets tightly. "Yes! Fuck me harder, fuck! I want you to know this is what I love… I love being the little nerd only you can fuck like this. Faster, harder!"

You don't hesitate, your hips slamming against hers in a frenzied pace, the heat and pressure of every thrust consuming you both. Her legs tremble, and you keep pounding with force and precision. "Admit it, Nayeon," you say through gritted teeth, picking up the pace. "You love being my little slut…"

She opens her eyes, staring at you with an almost possessive intensity. "Fuck, yes! I’m your slut. Fuck me more, fuck my pussy like I’m only yours…" You lower yourself onto her, kissing her hard, pouring every bit of your heat into her through the kiss as you keep thrusting, and between desperate, erratic kisses, she gasps, "Take me from behind now. I want you deep inside me, you filthy pervert!”

You pull away from her, and Nayeon promptly positions herself on your messy bed, arching her back, ready. Your approach is almost reverent. You position yourself behind her as you lower your head slowly, your eyes tracing the sight she offers—her wet pussy, swollen with excitement, and just above, her tight little ass, teasing you. She’s so exposed, so vulnerable, yet there’s a confidence in her, like she’s fully aware of what’s coming. And that’s exactly what turns her on.

Before making a move, you let your warm breath brush against her skin, sending shivers through her body. Nayeon lets out a shaky sigh, and her back arches even more. “Don’t make me wait…” she murmurs, a mix of urgency and need in her voice.

With a sly grin, you lower your mouth, and your tongue finally touches the slick entrance of her pussy. The taste is addictive, just as you suspected. You start with soft, long licks, gliding along the length of her lips, savoring every drop of her juices. Nayeon responds immediately, letting out quiet moans, her breathing already quickening.

“You… know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” she asks, her voice broken by little gasps.

You chuckle lightly between licks but don’t answer. Your hands firmly grip Nayeon’s ass, keeping her in place as your tongue slides deeper, exploring her sensitive folds. Each time you graze the entrance of her pussy, it clenches, almost begging to be filled, but you refuse to give her everything at once. Instead, you decide to tease her even more.

Sliding your tongue upward, you slowly trace circles around her tight little asshole, making it wet with your saliva. The reaction is instant—Nayeon’s body trembles, and her moans intensify. “Oh my God… keep going… please…” she whispers, her voice a desperate plea.

You alternate between quick, gentle licks, sometimes focusing on her swollen, slick pussy, other times on her sensitive ass, driving her to the brink of losing control. Your tongue dances between the two spots, teasing and pleasing her at the same time. With every new touch, Nayeon’s moans grow louder, more urgent.

“You… you like this, don’t you, you pervert?” she asks with a muffled voice, her hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

“I love how you taste,” you murmur against her skin.

She lets out a breathy laugh, somewhere between pleasure and disbelief. “Of course you do, I’m… delicious.” And you can’t help but agree. Your tongue continues to explore, licking deep into her pussy and then sliding up to her ass, enjoying the way her body reacts to every touch. Your fingers dig into her ass cheeks harder, leaving red marks on her pale skin.

Nayeon’s moans mix with uncontrollable whispers, each word escaping between ragged breaths. “Please… you’re killing me,” she begs, her voice thick with pleasure, her eyes half-closed in pure lust. “Fuck me… just fuck me already!”

Her plea is desperate, loaded with an almost imperious urgency, and you, with a mischievous smile, position yourself behind her, watching as she pushes her ass higher, her slick pussy begging for more. “You sure you can take it?” you tease, your hands already gripping her hips, but before she can even respond, you pull her back, aligning yourself with precision, the head of your cock brushing against her lips.

“Just do it, fuck,” Nayeon shouts, her tone commanding but dripping with so much desire that you can’t resist. In one swift motion, you thrust into her, and the wet heat of her pussy envelops you completely. Pleasure shoots through you like an electric current, and she arches her back, pushing against you, as if begging you to go deeper, faster.

You start slowly, savoring each thrust, each inch sliding in and out of her, but soon the pace picks up, driven by the uncontrollable moans pouring out of Nayeon. “Faster… harder,” she moans, her voice faltering with each deeper thrust, and you don’t hesitate. Your hands sink into the soft flesh of her hips, holding her steady as you speed up, the thrusts becoming more intense, more brutal.

“Look at you, so prim and proper in class, but here…” you say between thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Here you’re just my little slut. The nerd who loves being fucked like a whore.”

Nayeon moans loudly, her voice breaking into wicked laughter. “Is that what you want, huh? To know the nerd loves being fucked like this, like a depraved little slut… Make me scream, fuck!”

With each slap to her ass, she moans louder, her pale skin turning red with every hit. “Hit me harder,” she begs, her eyes gleaming with pleasure, her voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. And you oblige, slapping her harder, leaving red marks as you bury yourself deeper inside her.

“You’re an unbelievable slut,” you growl, picking up the pace, each thrust drawing louder and more desperate moans from her. “You pretend to be so good, but look at you now… begging for more.”

“I’m your slut,” she screams, pushing her ass back against you even harder. “Do whatever you want with me… I love being fucked like this, fuck! Make me yours, make me cum.”

You keep going, your thrusts becoming frenzied, your hips moving with an uncontrollable speed and intensity. “Fuck, look at you,” you taunt, feeling your own pleasure building. “You love being treated like this, like a desperate little whore. Scream for me, Nayeon.”

“Yes, yes!” she screams, her voice thick with pleasure, almost hoarse. “Fuck me until I can’t take it anymore, babe!”

Her body trembling as her climax approaches. Suddenly, she arches her back, pushing her ass harder against you, and her voice cracks as she screams, “I’m... going... to cum!”

Her pussy clenches tightly around your cock, pulsing and shaking as she’s overtaken by the orgasm, her whole body shuddering in ecstasy while your relentless thrusts continue. But you don't stop. Her pleasure only drives you further, each thrust pulling everything out of her, Nayeon’s body writhing, each scream feeding your own growing desire.

“Yeah… Fuck me, make me yours,” she keeps begging, even in the middle of her own climax, completely surrendered to the sensation.

You can feel your own orgasm building, heat rising fast, pressure mounting. “I’m going to cum,” you warn, your voice rough and broken, unable to stop as the final thrusts send you both over the edge.

The feeling of her pulsating pussy around your cock pushes you to the brink, and with one last frustrated groan, you pull out. Nayeon gasps for a moment, recovering from her orgasm as she kneels down on the floor, almost like she already knows what to do – and, honestly, she does. Her eyes lock on you, her face slightly flushed, and her mouth already open, waiting eagerly like the diligent student she is.

You grip your cock with one hand, still throbbing, and bring it to her lips. With her mouth wide, Nayeon wraps her lips around you once more, sucking softly with a gentleness that almost belies the fevered desire etched across her face. You pull out of her mouth, stroking yourself quickly, feeling the pressure mounting further.

Nayeon waits, obedient, with her tongue stretched out, her eyes hungry and fixed on you, knowing exactly the effect that has on you. When the moment hits, the first spurt of cum lands on her warm tongue, and Nayeon doesn’t even blink. She takes it all in with pleasure, as you empty yourself into her mouth, your body shuddering, nearly out of control.

She keeps her mouth open the entire time, her tongue coated in your cum, and when you finally finish, she closes her lips, licking them as the taste spreads. With perfect manners, she shows you her full mouth, eyes full of playful mischief, and then, without breaking eye contact, she swallows it all in one gulp, her throat moving slowly.

“See?” she says with a satisfied smile, as if she’d just passed a test with flying colors. “I swallowed it all without spilling a drop.”

But, of course, Nayeon, ever the overachiever, wasn’t finished. Before you can catch your breath, she leans in again, taking your sensitive cock into her mouth, sucking with an intensity that makes you moan involuntarily. The jolt of pleasure is so sharp that you try to pull away, your body trembling, but she holds you firmly, her mouth working at a pace that borders on cruel.

“Fuck!... I can’t take any more!” you try to protest, your voice breaking, but Nayeon just hums in response, pulling you out only long enough to say, “Not yet,” before closing her lips around you again, sucking you until, finally, she decides she’s satisfied.

When she releases you, you’re left gasping, almost paralyzed from the intensity of it all. Nayeon smiles sweetly, victorious, wiping the corner of her mouth with her fingers before saying with calm satisfaction, “Mmm, Now that was delicious.”

—

As you desperately gulp water from your bottle, the silence that follows your impromptu "study session" lingers heavily in the air, a strange return to reality. Nayeon had stood up, her hair still slightly messy and a small smile playing on her lips, before heading to the bathroom. She walked with the confidence of someone who had just solved a particularly tricky math problem.

And now you're here, staring at the bathroom door, listening to the sound of water as she washes her face and cleans her glasses, removing any trace of... well, *you*. Then, because life loves to remind you that nothing is ever simple, your mind starts to wander. What, exactly, just happened? Oh, right. You were working on a project. A project that, incidentally, hasn’t moved an inch forward.

Nayeon steps out of the bathroom, picking up the discarded clothes from the floor, dressing herself piece by piece, taking her time, like you were a couple with decades of shared intimacy. She finishes by adjusting her glasses, almost like she’s putting a crown back on after a victorious battle. She sits back down in her chair, opens the laptop as if nothing had happened, and lets out a satisfied but determined sigh.

“Alright,” she says, as if she hadn’t just left you weak-kneed. “Let’s get back to the project.”

You stare at her, incredulous. As if it were possible to get back to the project after that.

And then you realize you’re still naked. You quickly slip on your boxers and pants.

“To be honest, I don’t think I can focus on my part right now,” you admit, your voice still a bit hoarse.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” She smiles that smile—a mix of mischief and... surprisingly efficient academic prowess. “As long as you keep fucking me, of course. I have to be rewarded somehow.”

You’re speechless for a moment, because, well... you don’t exactly have a counterargument. In fact, it seems like the best deal you’ve ever made in your life.

“Deal,” you say, trying to sound cool, as if you weren’t absolutely thrilled by the arrangement.

Inside, though, you’re jumping for joy.

She adjusts her glasses, watching you for a moment, and you notice that glint in her eyes—a mix of ego, intelligence, and... something else that makes your heart race. Or maybe it’s just the recent sex.

Hard to say.

“But,” she cuts through your thoughts with a serious tone, “no one can know about this. We have to meet in secret. No telling anyone.”

“I swear I won’t tell.”

You wonder how you ended up in this situation, but the answer seems obvious. Who in their right mind would turn down a request like that?

She smiles, satisfied, and turns her attention back to the laptop, as if everything were perfectly resolved.

“Besides,” Nayeon adds, without looking up, “if you need help with any other subject, you can count on me. After all, I think we work well together, don’t we?”

You just nod, but there’s something about her—something between the proud nerd and the bold confidence—that drives you wild. Wild with desire, of course, but also something deeper. And as you watch her, so focused, adjusting her glasses like she’s planning the next phase of a secret mission, you realize that you’re falling for the class nerd.

Yes, she’s hot. Yes, she has a way of disarming you at every turn.

But it’s more than that. It’s as if every time she looks at you with that “know-it-all” air or talks about a complicated academic concept, your mind equates it with something incredibly sexy. And suddenly, your love life has turned into an equation you can’t—and don’t want to—solve.

And, of course, the fact that she’s amazing in bed doesn’t hurt, either.

“Should we meet tomorrow?” you ask casually.

Nayeon doesn’t even look up, just gives a small “mm-hmm” of confirmation, her fingers still typing away.

“Your place again. Same time. Clean up your room... And answer the door in your boxers.”

She glances at you slightly, smiling, and you know exactly what that smile means. And, well, you’re not in any position to complain. In fact, if studying had always been like this, maybe you'd have been the best student in class.

—

As you walk Nayeon to the door, you can’t help but think that maybe you’ve uncovered the true secret to academic success. And who would have thought it was a sexy nerd with glasses who secretly turned out to be a naughty girl who liked sneaking off for sex?

As she leaves, you can’t help but smile when your eyes meet one last time. Not just because of the deal you’ve just made, but because, for the first time in a long while, you’re genuinely excited to "study" with someone. Suddenly, the academic world seems a lot more interesting.

You close the door, but something lingers in the air. Maybe it’s the smell of your sweat—you still haven’t showered, after all. Maybe it’s the trace of Nayeon’s perfume. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of one of the most unexpectedly erotic adventures of your life.

-----------

A/n: Please forgive any typos or grammatical errors, English is not my first language. Thanks for reading.

[elexaria]

dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”

therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.

“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.

god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?

and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.

“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.

it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.

there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.

that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.

“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.