#like on the ice you can see everything he's feel every time he hugs his teammates he HUGS them whne theyre losing he's miserable but he's | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pucksandpower · 1 month ago

Text

Royal Pardon

Charles Leclerc x Arthur’s best friend!Reader

Summary: Charles isn’t a violent man at heart, but when he saves you from being harassed while celebrating his Monaco win, he quickly realizes that there’s not a single line he wouldn’t cross if it means keeping you safe

Warnings: attempted sexual assault, violence, and injury

Note: a break from your regularly scheduled October programming because Charles just won the United States GP and that calls for a celebration

The music pulses through the club, a steady, hypnotic beat that thrums in Charles’ chest. He’s never felt like this — untouchable, invincible — as if tonight could stretch on forever, an endless loop of victory and laughter.

He’s just won Monaco.

Monaco. His Monaco.

The thought alone makes him smile, a small, private thing that he hides behind the rim of his champagne flute.

Around him, the crowd swirls in a blur of lights and shadows, everyone shouting their congratulations over the music, pulling him into hugs and clapping him on the back. Arthur is here somewhere, of course, dragging you along because where else would you be? The two of you are like shadows, inseparable since childhood.

Charles can still see you, just barely, out of the corner of his eye, chatting with a couple of Arthur’s friends near the bar. You’re laughing, a sound that somehow cuts through the noise and settles in the back of his mind. It’s a good sound, one that feels familiar, like home.

“Charles, mate!” A voice shouts, pulling him back. Max is there, leaning in with a grin that’s all teeth, like he’s just as buzzed on adrenaline as Charles is. “I swear, you’re going to be insufferable after this. Monaco, finally!”

Charles laughs, shaking his head, though the truth is he probably will be insufferable. But can anyone blame him? He’s worked so damn hard for this, pushing through every setback, every disappointment. And now, here he is, celebrating the win of his career in the only place that really matters.

He’s about to respond when someone else pulls him into a hug, a flurry of excitement and congratulations that Charles barely processes. He doesn’t mind, though. Tonight, it feels like nothing can touch him, like nothing could ever bring him down from this high.

But then, something shifts. It’s subtle at first, just an itch at the back of his mind, a sense that something isn’t right. He glances over to where you and Arthur were standing, but Arthur is gone, nowhere to be seen. And you … you’re not laughing anymore.

Charles’ stomach twists. You’re cornered against the bar now, a man leaning in too close, too aggressive. Charles can’t see your face clearly through the throng of people, but the way you’re holding yourself, tense and small, tells him everything he needs to know.

His blood turns to ice, freezing the euphoria in his veins. He can’t hear what the man is saying, but it doesn’t matter. The way the man’s hand snakes around your waist, the way you try to push him off with trembling hands — Charles’ vision goes red.

He’s moving before he can think, pushing through the crowd with a single-minded focus. The people congratulating him moments ago scatter as he brushes past them, their laughter and cheers fading into the background noise.

“Hey!” Charles’ voice cuts through the music, sharp and commanding. The man doesn’t even turn at first, but you do, your eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. Charles feels something break inside him at the sight, but he channels it into a fury that propels him forward.

When the man finally notices Charles, it’s too late. Charles is on him, grabbing the man’s shoulder and yanking him away from you with a force that sends the man stumbling backward. “Get the fuck away from her,” Charles snarls, every syllable dripping with venom.

The man barely has time to react before Charles slams him against the wall, the impact rattling the bottles on the shelves behind the bar. Charles’ forearm presses against the man’s throat, cutting off whatever protest he might have had.

“Charles, stop!” You gasp, your voice choked with a mix of fear and something else, something that twists the knife already lodged in Charles’ chest. He doesn’t stop, though. Can’t stop. The image of the man’s hands on you is burned into his mind, and all he can think about is making him pay, making him hurt.

The man struggles, clawing at Charles’ arm, but it’s useless. Charles is stronger, fueled by a rage that’s been simmering just beneath the surface for too long. The man’s face turns red, then purple, and still, Charles doesn’t let up. His grip tightens, and he leans in closer, his voice a low, dangerous whisper.

“If you ever so much as look at her again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and deadly serious. The man’s eyes widen, a flash of genuine fear crossing his face, but Charles doesn’t care. He wants him to be scared. Wants him to know that there’s no escaping this, no escaping the consequences of what he’s done.

“Charles, please!” Your voice breaks through the haze of anger, and it’s only then that Charles realizes how close you’ve gotten. You’re right there, your hand on his arm, tugging gently, desperately trying to pull him away.

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and sees the tears streaming down your face, the fear etched into your features. It’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head, shocking him back to reality. The club, the music, the people — all of it comes rushing back in a disorienting wave.

Charles blinks, his grip on the man loosening just enough for the man to gasp for air. He’s still furious, the anger simmering beneath the surface, but he’s no longer blind with it. He takes a breath, then another, trying to regain some semblance of control.

“You’re lucky she’s here,” Charles says quietly, his voice barely more than a growl. He shoves the man away from him, watching with cold satisfaction as he stumbles and nearly falls to the floor.

The man doesn’t stick around. He scrambles to his feet and disappears into the crowd, no doubt eager to get as far away from Charles as possible. Good. Charles hopes he never sees the man again, because he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop himself if he does.

For a moment, Charles just stands there, his chest heaving with the effort of reining in his emotions. The crowd has started to notice the commotion, a few curious onlookers craning their necks to see what’s going on. But none of that matters. None of them matter.

All that matters is you.

Charles turns to you, his expression softening as he takes in your tear-streaked face. “Are you okay?” His voice is gentler now, full of concern that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You nod, but it’s a shaky, uncertain thing. “I-I’m fine,” you manage, though it’s clear you’re anything but. You look like you’re about to collapse, your legs barely holding you up.

Without thinking, Charles steps closer and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. You don’t resist, you just sink into him, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if he’s the only thing keeping you upright. And maybe he is.

“It’s okay,” Charles murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “You’re safe now. I’m here.” He holds you tighter, as if he can shield you from the world, from everything that just happened. And for a moment, it feels like he can. Like nothing bad can touch you as long as you’re in his arms.

You don’t say anything, just press your face into his chest, your breath hitching with the remnants of your tears. Charles presses his lips to the top of your head, a gesture that feels both instinctive and impossibly intimate. He’s never held you like this before, never been this close, but it feels right.

The music still pounds in the background, the lights still flash in a dizzying array of colors, but it’s all distant now, muted. The only thing that matters is you, and making sure you’re okay.

Charles pulls back just enough to look down at you, his hands resting on your shoulders. “Where’s Arthur?” He asks, his voice still soft but edged with a protective concern.

“I-I don’t know,” you admit, your voice small. “He was here a minute ago, and then …” Your words trail off, and Charles doesn’t need you to finish the sentence to know what happened next.

He clenches his jaw, trying to keep his anger in check. Arthur should have been here, should have been looking out for you, but he isn’t. Charles isn’t sure where his brother is right now, but he’ll deal with that later. For now, he needs to focus on you.

“It’s okay,” he says again, though the words feel inadequate. “You’re with me now. No one’s going to hurt you.”

You nod again, but this time it’s a little steadier, a little more certain. “Thank you,” you whisper, the words barely audible over the music.

Charles shakes his head. “You don’t need to thank me,” he says, his voice rougher than he intends. “I’ll always protect you. Always.”

The weight of those words hangs between you, a promise that feels more real than anything else in this moment. Charles knows, without a doubt, that he means it. He’ll protect you, no matter what. Even if it means facing down every threat, every danger, with the same ferocity he showed tonight.

He takes a deep breath, trying to let go of the lingering anger. The night isn’t over yet, but he’s not sure how much longer he can stand to be here, in this place that suddenly feels too crowded, too loud, too full of people who didn’t notice, didn’t care. Charles’ grip tightens on your shoulders as he scans the room, trying to spot Arthur in the sea of faces. But it’s a lost cause — the club is packed, and he knows Arthur could be anywhere.

“Come on,” Charles says, his voice a bit steadier now. “Let’s get out of here.”

You don’t argue, just nod and let him guide you through the crowd. The bodies pressing in around you both feel suffocating, the music that once electrified the night now grating on Charles’ nerves. He keeps a firm hold on your hand, as if letting go might mean losing you to the chaos.

As you near the exit, the cool night air becomes a welcome relief, a sharp contrast to the oppressive heat inside. The streets of Monaco are quieter now, the party shifting indoors as the night grows late. Charles doesn’t stop moving until you’re both far enough from the club that the noise fades into a dull hum, barely audible over the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.

He finally releases your hand, only to immediately wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You’re shivering, whether from the cold or the shock, Charles isn’t sure. Either way, he holds you tighter, wishing he could do more, say more.

But the words don’t come easily. They never have. So instead, he just walks with you, slowly, allowing the night air to calm the both of you. You lean into him, and he can feel the tension gradually leaving your body, though you still seem a little too fragile, too breakable.

Charles isn’t sure how long you walk like that, side by side in the near silence, before you finally speak.

“Charles, I …” Your voice is hesitant, unsure. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”

He stops walking, turning to face you, his expression serious. “You don’t have to think about that,” he says, his voice firm. “I was there. And I always will be.”

You look up at him, your eyes searching his face for something — reassurance, perhaps, or maybe just understanding. “But what if next time-”

“There won’t be a next time.” Charles cuts you off, his voice harder than he intends. He takes a breath, softening his tone. “I won’t let there be a next time.”

He can see the worry still etched on your face, the remnants of fear that haven’t quite faded. He wishes he could take it all away, erase the memory of that man and the way he made you feel. But he knows he can’t. All he can do is be there, to protect you, to make sure you know that you’re not alone.

“You’re safe,” he repeats, quieter now, but with no less conviction. “As long as I’m here, you’re safe.”

You hold his gaze for a long moment, and he wonders what you’re thinking, what’s going on behind those eyes that have always been so easy for him to read. Eventually, you nod, and some of the tension in your posture seems to melt away.

“Okay,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

Charles nods too, though a part of him still feels on edge, like the danger hasn’t completely passed. But he pushes that feeling down, focusing instead on you, on the fact that you’re here with him, and that’s all that matters right now.

“Let’s go,” he says again, but this time, his voice is softer, more gentle. He takes your hand again, lacing his fingers with yours, and starts walking, leading you away from the club, from the noise and the memories that he hopes you’ll never have to revisit.

As you walk, the tension between you both begins to ease. The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of the sea, and for the first time in what feels like hours, Charles allows himself to breathe.

He glances over at you, your profile illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. You look calmer now, more like yourself, though there’s still a shadow of what happened lingering in your eyes. Charles’ heart aches at the sight, at the knowledge that he couldn’t protect you from that, even if he was there to stop it from getting worse.

But he doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he just keeps walking, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over your knuckles, a silent reassurance that he’s here, and he’s not going anywhere.

Eventually, you reach the familiar streets that lead back to your apartment. The night is quiet now, the revelry of earlier giving way to the peaceful stillness of a city that’s finally starting to sleep.

When you reach your building, you both stop, lingering on the sidewalk as if neither of you wants the night to end just yet. Charles knows he should say something, anything, but the words are stuck in his throat, too heavy and too complicated to untangle.

You’re the one who breaks the silence, your voice soft but clear. “Thank you. For everything.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t need to thank me,” he says, echoing his earlier words. “I meant what I said — I’ll always protect you.”

There’s a pause, a beat of silence that stretches on just long enough to make Charles wonder if you’re going to say something more. But you don’t. Instead, you step closer and, without warning, wrap your arms around him in a tight hug.

Charles is momentarily stunned, his breath catching in his throat as he processes the warmth of your embrace, the way you cling to him like he’s your anchor in a storm. He hesitates for only a second before his arms come up around you, holding you just as tightly, if not more.

The hug lasts longer than it probably should, but neither of you seems to want to let go. When you finally do, you pull back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his with a softness that makes his chest tighten.

“Goodnight, Charlie,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Goodnight,” he replies, his voice equally soft, as if speaking any louder would shatter the fragile moment between you.

You give him one last, lingering look before turning and heading into your building, the door closing softly behind you. Charles stands there for a moment, staring at the door, as if willing it to open again, as if hoping you might come back out and say something more.

But you don’t, and eventually, Charles turns and starts walking back the way you came, his thoughts a tangled mess of emotions he’s not sure how to deal with.

The night is still, the only sound the distant crash of the waves against the rocks. Charles lets the quiet seep into him, trying to find some semblance of calm, but it’s difficult. The image of you, scared and vulnerable, keeps flashing through his mind, a constant reminder of how close you came to being hurt.

He knows he should feel relief — that you’re safe, that the night ended without further incident. But instead, all he feels is a gnawing sense of guilt, of not having been there sooner, of not being able to protect you from everything.

Charles clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he walks. He doesn’t want to think about what could have happened if he hadn’t been there, doesn’t want to imagine the fear and pain you might have endured.

But he can’t stop the thoughts from coming, can’t shake the anger that simmers just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.

As he rounds the corner to his own street, Charles makes a silent vow to himself. He’ll be more vigilant, more careful. He won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. He’ll be there, always, to protect you, no matter what.

And if anyone tries to come between you and your safety again, well … Charles isn’t sure he’ll be able to hold back next time.

He reaches his apartment, but he doesn’t go inside right away. Instead, he stands outside, staring up at the stars barely visible above the city lights, his mind still racing with thoughts of you.

Eventually, he takes a deep breath and turns to unlock his door, stepping inside and letting the door close behind him with a quiet click. The apartment is dark and silent, but it doesn’t feel like home tonight. It feels empty, hollow, as if something is missing.

And Charles knows exactly what that something is.

As he heads to bed, his thoughts are still on you — on the way you looked at him tonight, on the way you clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. And somewhere, deep down, Charles knows that you’re more than just Arthur’s best friend to him.

But he’s not ready to confront that just yet. Not tonight.

So he pushes the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the promise he made to himself: to always be there for you, to protect you, no matter what.

It’s a promise he intends to keep.

***

The morning sun stretches over Monaco, its golden rays catching on the waves that lap against the harbor. The city is just beginning to stir, and for a moment, everything feels like it should: calm, peaceful, normal. But as Charles hits his stride on his morning run, his mind is anything but calm.

The events of last night replay in his head on a loop, the image of you — shaken, scared, fighting back tears — burned into his memory. Every step he takes feels heavier, weighted down by the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

He’s tried to push it down, to focus on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the sound of his shoes hitting the pavement, but it’s no use. The rage is still there, as fresh and raw as it was the moment he saw you in that club.

Charles turns a corner, heading down toward the harbor where the yachts bob gently in the water. The morning air is crisp, a stark contrast to the heat that still lingers in his chest. He needs to clear his head, to shake off the lingering sense of helplessness that clings to him like a shadow.

But then he sees him.

The man is walking casually along the harbor, hands in his pockets, his face a picture of smug indifference. He looks like any other tourist enjoying a morning stroll, not like someone who was grabbing you, hurting you, just hours ago.

Charles stops dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, he thinks he’s imagining it, that his mind is playing tricks on him. But no, it’s him. The same face, the same sneer that Charles wanted to wipe off with his fist last night.

Something snaps inside Charles. The anger he’s been trying to control, trying to bury, erupts like a dam breaking, flooding his veins with adrenaline. His vision narrows, locking onto the man who dared to touch you, who thought he could get away with it.

Without thinking, Charles changes direction, his strides long and purposeful as he closes the distance between them. The man doesn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in whatever thoughts a man like him could have. But then, as Charles gets closer, something makes the man glance over his shoulder.

His reaction is immediate. The smug look falters, replaced by a flicker of recognition, then quickly by a lazy grin that only fuels Charles’ rage.

“Well, well,” the man drawls, stopping to face Charles, clearly not sensing the danger. “If it isn’t the big hero himself. What’s the matter, Leclerc? Didn’t get enough attention last night?”

Charles doesn’t answer, his jaw clenched so tightly he can feel his teeth grind together. He’s close enough now to smell the lingering stench of alcohol on the man’s breath, the same breath that spewed vile words at you.

The man chuckles, a sound that grates on Charles’ nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “You know, she had it coming,” he says, his tone almost conversational. “The way she was dressed, the way she looked at me — what did she expect?”

That’s all it takes. The words cut through Charles like a knife, sharp and searing, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, shoving him back against the railing of the harbor.

“What did you say?” Charles’ voice is low, dangerous, barely more than a growl. His knuckles are white where they grip the man’s shirt, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring ready to snap.

The man’s grin only widens, unfazed by the fury in Charles’ eyes. “You heard me,” he sneers. “And you know what? There’s nothing you can do about it. We’re in public, Leclerc. You’re a famous guy — can’t have your precious image tarnished, can you?”

Charles’ lips curl into a smile, but it’s not the kind that reaches his eyes. It’s cold, calculated, the kind of smile that sends a chill down the spine. “You think I care about that?” He asks, his voice dangerously calm.

The man’s bravado falters just a bit, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but he doesn’t back down. “Yeah, I do. You’re not gonna do anything. Not here, not in front of all these people.”

Charles laughs, but there’s no humor in it, just a bitter edge that makes the man shift uncomfortably. “You really don’t get it, do you?” Charles says, his voice softening into something almost pitying. “This is Monaco. And I’m Charles Leclerc.”

The man’s face pales slightly, but he still tries to hold his ground. “So what? You think being a driver gives you a free pass to do whatever you want?”

Charles’ smile widens, though there’s nothing friendly about it. “Exactly.”

Before the man can react, Charles yanks him away from the railing, dragging him along the harbor. The man stumbles, trying to pull away, but Charles’ grip is ironclad, unyielding. The few people who are out this early watch with interest, some even clapping or calling out congratulations as they recognize Charles.

“Hey, what the hell?” The man protests, his voice rising in panic as he struggles against Charles’ hold. “Let go of me!”

Charles doesn’t respond, his eyes focused straight ahead as he forces the man to walk, his grip tightening whenever he feels him start to resist. The man’s attempts to free himself are pathetic, laughable even, compared to the strength Charles has built up over years of training, of pushing his body to the limits.

As they pass by a group of people, one of them cheers, “That’s the way, Charles! Show him who’s boss!”

The man tries to appeal to the onlookers, his voice frantic. “Someone stop him! He’s crazy!”

But no one moves to help. They just watch, some amused, others indifferent, as Charles continues to drag the man through the streets of Monaco like he’s nothing more than a piece of trash that needs to be disposed of.

“Where are you taking me?” The man demands, his voice trembling now as fear starts to seep in. “You can’t do this! I’ll-I’ll call the police!”

Charles’ laugh is cold and devoid of any warmth. “Go ahead,” he says, not slowing down for a second. “Tell them Charles Leclerc is dealing with a problem. See how far that gets you.”

The man’s protests grow weaker, his struggles more desperate, but it’s clear he knows there’s no escaping this. Charles is too strong, too determined, and the reality of his situation is starting to sink in.

The two of them reach a more secluded part of the harbor, where the buildings are fewer and the noise of the city fades into the background. There’s no one around to witness what’s about to happen, no one to hear the man’s cries for help.

Charles comes to a stop in a narrow alleyway, shoving the man against the wall with enough force to knock the breath out of him. He leans in close, his face inches from the man’s, his voice a low, dangerous whisper.

“You made a mistake last night,” Charles says, his tone icy. “You thought you could get away with it because you were in a crowded club, because she was alone. You thought no one would stop you.”

The man’s eyes are wide with fear now, all traces of his earlier arrogance gone. “I-I didn’t mean-”

“But you did,” Charles cuts him off, his voice like steel. “You meant every word, every touch, every threat. And now, you’re going to pay for it.”

The man tries to push Charles away, his movements frantic, but Charles is relentless. He grabs the man by the throat, pinning him against the wall, his grip just tight enough to make him understand how serious this is.

“You think I can’t do anything to you because we’re in public?” Charles hisses, his breath hot against the man’s ear. “You’re wrong. In Monaco, I can do whatever I want. And no one will stop me.”

The man’s hands claw at Charles’ arm, trying to pry his fingers away from his throat, but it’s useless. Charles is too strong, too focused, his anger giving him a surge of power that the man can’t hope to match.

Charles leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You hurt someone I care about. Someone I’ve known my whole life. And for that, I’m going to make sure you never forget what happens when you cross me.”

The man’s breath comes in short, panicked gasps as he realizes the gravity of his situation. He tries to speak, to beg for mercy, but Charles isn’t interested in hearing his excuses.

“Please …” the man finally manages to choke out, his voice barely a whisper. “I-I’m sorry …”

Charles’ eyes narrow, his grip tightening for a moment before he abruptly lets go, letting the man collapse to the ground in a heap. The man gasps for air, his hands trembling as he scrambles to his feet, his eyes wide with fear.

But Charles isn’t done. He grabs the man by the collar, dragging him deeper into the alley, where the shadows swallow them both. The man’s struggles are weak now, more out of instinct than any real hope of escape.

“People like you,” Charles says, his voice low and menacing, “think you can do whatever you want. But here’s the truth: you’re nothing. Just another coward who preys on the vulnerable. And cowards like you don’t get to walk away.”

The alley is cold and dark, the early morning light barely reaching the grimy corners where Charles drags the man like a lifeless doll. The sounds of Monaco are distant now, just a low hum that fades into the background. The only noise that matters is the ragged breathing of the man at Charles’ mercy, and the echo of their footsteps on the uneven pavement.

Charles stops abruptly, his grip still tight on the man’s collar. He looks around, taking in the silence, the isolation. This place, this forgotten corner of the city, is perfect. No one will find them here. No one will hear what happens next.

He shoves the man against the wall again, harder this time, the force of it knocking the breath out of him. The man lets out a choked gasp, his eyes wide with fear, the bravado from earlier completely gone.

“Please,” he stammers, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean-”

Charles cuts him off with a sharp punch to the gut, and the man doubles over, wheezing. “Don’t bother,” Charles says coldly. “You’re not sorry. You’re just scared. There’s a difference.”

The man tries to straighten up, but Charles doesn’t give him the chance. He lands another punch, this time to the man’s jaw, the crack of bone echoing in the alley. The man’s head snaps to the side, blood already beginning to trickle from his split lip.

“You like hurting people, don’t you?” Charles asks, his voice calm, almost conversational as he paces in front of the man. “That’s what you were doing last night, right? You saw her and you thought you could do whatever you wanted.”

The man groans, trying to push himself up from the ground where he’s fallen, but Charles is on him in an instant, his knee pressing into the man’s chest, pinning him down.

“You thought she was alone,” Charles continues, his voice still eerily calm as he looks down at the man struggling beneath him. “You thought no one would stop you.”

He leans in closer, his knee digging into the man’s ribs, making it harder for him to breathe. “But she wasn’t alone. And now, you’re going to pay for what you did.”

The man tries to shake his head, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts. “I’m sorry,” he gasps out, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know-”

Another punch, this one to the side of the man’s face, silences him. Charles doesn’t care about his excuses, his lies. All he cares about is making sure this man understands the pain, the fear that you felt last night.

He grabs the man by the hair, forcing his head up so their eyes meet. The man’s face is already swelling, bruises blossoming under his skin like dark flowers. “You think this is bad?” Charles asks, his voice low, dangerous. “This is nothing compared to what you deserve.”

The man whimpers, his hands weakly trying to push Charles away, but it’s no use. Charles is relentless, his grip like iron as he drags the man up and slams him back against the wall.

“You like to take what you want, don’t you?” Charles says, his breath hot against the man’s ear. “Well, let’s see how you like it when someone takes something from you.”

Without waiting for a response, Charles delivers a brutal kick to the man’s knee, and the sickening sound of bone cracking echoes in the alley. The man screams, a high, desperate sound that only fuels Charles’ anger.

He watches dispassionately as the man crumples to the ground, clutching his leg, his face contorted in agony. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Charles asks, his voice devoid of any sympathy. “Now imagine how she felt. Imagine how scared she was, how helpless.”

The man tries to crawl away, his movements sluggish, hindered by the pain, but Charles isn’t done. He grabs the man by the ankle, dragging him back, his face set in grim determination.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Charles says, his voice flat, emotionless. “Not until I’m finished.”

He pulls the man up, slamming him into the wall again, his grip never loosening. The man’s head lolls to the side, blood dripping from his nose, his mouth, but Charles doesn’t care. He won’t stop until the man feels every bit of the fear and pain he inflicted on you.

“You think you can just walk away from this?” Charles asks, his voice soft, almost a whisper, but there’s a dangerous edge to it that makes the man’s eyes widen in fear. “You think you can just go back to your life, like nothing happened?”

The man shakes his head weakly, but Charles doesn’t believe him. He knows men like this, cowards who prey on the vulnerable, who think they’re invincible because they’ve never had to face the consequences of their actions.

“Wrong,” Charles says, his voice hard, unyielding. “You’re not walking away from this. Not ever.”

He lands another punch, this one to the man’s ribs, and the man gasps, the air knocked out of him. Charles steps back for a moment, watching as the man collapses to the ground, coughing, wheezing, barely conscious.

“Look at you,” Charles says, his voice filled with contempt as he circles the man like a predator. “Pathetic. All that confidence, all that arrogance — gone. Now you’re just a scared little boy, begging for mercy.”

The man’s eyes flutter open, bloodshot and filled with pain. He tries to speak, but all that comes out is a low, pitiful moan. Charles crouches down beside him, his eyes cold, calculating.

“Did you really think you could get away with it?” Charles asks, his voice soft, almost gentle, but there’s a cruel undertone that makes the man flinch. “Did you think no one would care? That no one would come for you?”

The man doesn’t answer, his body trembling, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Charles watches him for a moment, his anger still simmering, but there’s a part of him — a small part — that feels a twisted sense of satisfaction. This man, this coward, is finally paying for what he did.

But it’s not enough. Not yet.

Charles reaches down, grabbing the man by the throat, his fingers digging into the bruised flesh. The man’s eyes go wide, panic setting in as he struggles to breathe, his hands weakly clawing at Charles’ arm.

“You’re not going to forget this,” Charles says, his voice low, dangerous. “Every time you look in the mirror, every time you see those scars, you’re going to remember what happens when you cross me. When you hurt someone I care about.”

The man gurgles, his eyes rolling back in his head, his body going limp in Charles’ grasp. For a moment, Charles considers finishing it, squeezing the life out of the man until there’s nothing left. But then he releases his grip, letting the man collapse to the ground, gasping for air.

The man barely has the strength to lift his head, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and desperation. “You … you can’t … do this,” he wheezes, his voice weak, barely audible. “I’ll … have you arrested … for attempted murder …”

Charles stares down at him, a cold, humorless smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down the man’s spine. “Go ahead,” he says, his voice dripping with contempt. “Try it. See how far you get.”

The man’s eyes flutter closed, his body trembling uncontrollably as the reality of his situation sets in. He’s helpless, broken, barely clinging to consciousness. And Charles knows that the man’s threats are empty, born out of desperation, a final attempt to grasp at some semblance of control.

“You’re nothing,” Charles says, his voice cold, final. “No one is going to believe you. Not after what you did. Not after what I’ve done to you.”

The man’s breath comes in short, shallow gasps, his body shuddering with pain and exhaustion. Charles watches him for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he finally stands up, looking down at the broken, bloodied man at his feet.

“Consider this a warning,” Charles says, his voice low, menacing. “Stay away from her. Stay away from Monaco. If I ever see you again, I won’t stop next time. I won’t show mercy.”

The man doesn’t respond, barely clinging to consciousness, his body slumped against the wall like a discarded puppet. Charles takes one last look at him, his eyes cold, before he turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing in the silent alley.

As he steps out into the morning light, the anger that had consumed him begins to fade, replaced by a cold, detached calm. He knows what he’s done, knows that he’s crossed a line that most people wouldn’t dare to. But he doesn’t care. He did what he had to do, what you needed him to do.

And he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

***

The atmosphere in the police station is tense, a quiet hum of activity threading through the open space. Officers move about, their conversations muted, eyes occasionally flicking toward the door where Charles Leclerc is expected to enter any moment. There’s a palpable discomfort in the air, a mix of respect and unease. No one wants to be the one to arrest Charles Leclerc. And yet, protocol demands his presence.

When Charles finally walks in, the room seems to still. Heads turn, eyes widen slightly. He’s dressed casually — sweatpants, a loose-fitting t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. Despite the nonchalance of his appearance, there’s an unmistakable tension in his shoulders, a hardness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

The desk sergeant, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a lined face, stands up hastily. “Monsieur Leclerc,” he begins, his tone overly formal, almost reverent. “Thank you for coming in on such short notice. We’re, uh … we’re very sorry about this.”

Charles offers a curt nod, his expression unreadable. “What’s this about?” He asks, even though he already knows.

The sergeant hesitates, glancing around nervously. “We, uh, received a complaint this morning,” he explains, his voice wavering slightly. “From a … an individual who claims that you assaulted him.”

Charles’ lips twitch into something resembling a smile, though there’s no warmth in it. “He’s not wrong,” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. “I did.”

The sergeant’s eyes widen slightly, and there’s a nervous shifting among the other officers in the room. This isn’t how these things usually go. “Monsieur Leclerc,” the sergeant begins again, more carefully this time, “we understand that this man may have … done something to provoke you. But we have to follow protocol. We need to ask you some questions.”

Charles crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly as he regards the sergeant with a cold, detached stare. “Protocol,” he repeats, his voice dripping with disdain. “Fine. Ask your questions.”

The sergeant shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “Did you, uh, did you physically assault the complainant?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

There’s a collective intake of breath from the officers around them, as if they can’t quite believe what they’re hearing. The sergeant blinks, clearly taken aback by Charles’ bluntness. “And … do you regret it?”

Charles laughs then, a dark, humorless sound that sends a shiver down the spines of everyone in the room. “Regret?” He echoes, shaking his head. “No, I don’t regret it. In fact, I’d do it again.”

The sergeant’s face pales, and he looks around as if searching for some way out of this conversation. “Monsieur Leclerc,” he begins again, his voice trembling slightly, “I don’t think you understand the situation. You’ve just admitted to a serious crime. We … we can’t just let you go.”

Charles’ expression hardens, his jaw clenching. “Yes, you can,” he says, his voice cold, unyielding. “And you will.”

The sergeant opens his mouth to protest, but before he can get a word out, the door to the station bursts open, and the man from the alley stumbles in. His face is still bruised, his movements stiff and pained. But there’s a look of triumph in his eyes as he spots Charles standing there.

“There he is!” The man shouts, pointing a shaky finger at Charles. “That’s him! That’s the bastard who tried to kill me!”

Charles turns slowly to face the man, his expression unreadable. There’s a moment of silence, the air thick with tension. The man, emboldened by the presence of the police, takes a step closer, his voice rising with every word. “You think you can just walk away from this, Leclerc? You think you’re untouchable? I’m going to see you rot in prison for what you did!”

Charles doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. The man falters slightly, confused by the lack of reaction. Charles taps the screen a few times, then puts it on speaker.

“What are you doing?” The man sneers, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Calling your lawyer? That’s not going to save you.”

Charles doesn’t bother to reply. The phone rings once, twice, before a familiar voice answers on the other end.

“Charles,” comes the smooth, authoritative voice of Prince Albert of Monaco. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Charles doesn’t take his eyes off the man as he responds. “Your Highness, I’m at the police station. There’s a man here trying to press charges against me for something I did last night.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line, and then Prince Albert’s voice, calm and steady, fills the room through the speakerphone. “I see. And what exactly did you do, Charles?”

Charles’ eyes narrow as he stares down the man, who is now looking increasingly nervous. “I made sure he understands that there are consequences for hurting people I care about,” Charles says, his voice low, menacing. “I made sure he knows that no one lays a hand on her without answering to me.”

The silence in the station is deafening. Every officer in the room is holding their breath, waiting to see what happens next. The man’s face drains of color as he realizes what’s happening, who Charles is talking to.

Prince Albert’s voice is measured, careful. “And you believe this was necessary?”

“Yes,” Charles replies without hesitation. “It was necessary.”

There’s another pause, and then Prince Albert speaks again, his tone decisive. “Then I trust your judgment. You did what you had to do. Consider this a royal pardon. I’ll have an official document delivered to the station within the hour.”

The man’s mouth falls open in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You … you can’t do this!” He sputters, his voice rising in desperation. “He assaulted me! He nearly killed me!”

Charles finally lowers the phone, ending the call. He slips it back into his pocket, his expression as cold and unyielding as ever. “You heard him,” Charles says quietly, his eyes locked on the man’s. “You’re done here.”

The man looks around wildly, as if searching for someone to back him up, but all he finds are the wary, sympathetic gazes of the officers. No one is going to help him. No one is going to defy Prince Albert.

The desk sergeant clears his throat, stepping forward. “Monsieur Leclerc,” he says, his voice carefully controlled, “it appears that you’re free to go.”

Charles doesn’t smile. He simply nods, his gaze never leaving the man who stands trembling before him. “Good,” he says softly. “Because I have more important things to do than waste my time here.”

The man opens his mouth to protest again, but the words die on his lips as Charles steps forward, his presence overwhelming, almost suffocating. “You should leave Monaco,” Charles says, his voice low and dangerous. “Before I change my mind about letting you live.”

The man stumbles back, his bravado crumbling as fear takes hold. He casts one last desperate glance at the officers, but they all turn away, unwilling to meet his eyes. He’s alone in this, and he knows it.

With a final, defeated whimper, the man turns and flees from the station, his steps hurried, unsteady. Charles watches him go, his expression unreadable, his heart pounding with a mixture of adrenaline and satisfaction.

The desk sergeant shifts awkwardly, unsure of what to say. “Uh, I … we’re sorry for the inconvenience,” he stammers. “It’s just … we had to follow procedure …”

Charles waves a hand dismissively, already heading for the door. “It’s fine,” he says, though there’s a hardness in his voice that suggests otherwise. “Just make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

The sergeant nods quickly, grateful for the reprieve. “Of course, Monsieur Leclerc. It won’t happen again.”

Charles doesn’t respond. He steps out into the sunlight, the tension slowly draining from his body as the warmth of the day washes over him. The streets of Monaco are as busy as ever, people going about their lives, oblivious to what just transpired inside the police station.

He takes a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs, grounding himself. The day is far from over, and there are still things he needs to do, but for now, the threat has been neutralized. The man who hurt you is gone, and Charles made sure he’ll never come back.

As he walks away from the station, Charles can’t help but think of you, your face, your voice, the way you smiled at him when you were just a little girl. He knows he’s crossed a line today, done things that most people wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t condone. But he doesn’t care. He did it for you.

And he’d do it all over again if he had to.

***

Charles stands outside your apartment, a paper bag of takeout in one hand, his other raised to knock on the door. He hesitates for a moment, nerves he didn’t expect twisting in his stomach. It’s strange, feeling nervous about seeing you. He’s known you for years — watched you grow up, shared countless family dinners with you, laughed at your jokes, teased you about your school crushes.

But this … this feels different. Everything feels different now.

He finally knocks, a light tap that he knows you’ll hear. A few seconds pass, and then the door swings open, revealing you standing there in a casual outfit, your hair pulled back, a soft smile on your face.

“Charles,” you greet him, your voice warm, familiar. “Come in.”

He steps inside, glancing around the cozy space. It’s a small apartment, but it’s yours, filled with little touches that scream your personality — bookshelves overflowing with novels, a blanket draped over the back of the couch, a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table. It’s homey, comfortable, and it smells like the vanilla candle you always seem to have burning.

“I brought lunch,” Charles says, holding up the bag. “Figured you might be hungry.”

You smile, your eyes brightening at the sight of the food. “You know me too well. What did you get?”

“Your favorite,” he replies, setting the bag down on the table and beginning to unpack it. “Pasta from that little place near the harbor.”

“Perfect,” you say, moving to grab plates from the cupboard. “You always know how to spoil me.”

Charles chuckles, though his mind is far from the light-hearted conversation. There’s something heavy sitting on his chest, something he knows he needs to tell you, but the words stick in his throat. Instead, he focuses on the food, dishing out generous portions onto each plate.

You both sit down at the small dining table, and for a few minutes, there’s nothing but the sound of forks scraping against plates and the occasional hum of satisfaction as you enjoy the meal. It’s comfortable, easy — just like it’s always been between you.

But then, as if sensing his unease, you break the silence. “So, I heard the craziest thing this morning,” you say, your tone light, almost teasing. “One of my friends told me that you were almost arrested yesterday. Can you believe that?”

Charles’ fork pauses midway to his mouth, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn’t expected you to bring it up so casually, hadn’t prepared himself for this moment. He forces a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh? What did she say?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “She said she heard you were involved in some kind of fight and that the police were called. I told her she was crazy. I mean, you wouldn’t hurt a fly, right?”

There’s a playful glint in your eyes, but Charles can’t bring himself to join in. Instead, he sets his fork down, the sound of metal against porcelain unnaturally loud in the quiet room. He looks at you, his expression serious, all traces of his earlier smile gone.

“Actually,” he begins, his voice low, steady, “it’s true.”

Your smile falters, confusion flickering across your face. “What do you mean?”

Charles leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he meets your gaze head-on. “I was at the police station yesterday,” he says, the words heavy, deliberate. “They called me in because that guy — the one who … hurt you — he tried to press charges against me.”

You stare at him, the shock evident in your wide eyes. “Wait, you’re serious? This isn’t some joke?”

“I’m serious,” Charles replies, his voice calm, almost too calm. “I’m not proud of what I did, but I’m not ashamed of it either. He deserved what he got.”

For a moment, you just sit there, trying to process what he’s telling you. You set your fork down, your appetite suddenly gone. “But … Charles, what did you do?”

Charles takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I made sure he understood that there are consequences for his actions. That he can’t just walk away after what he did to you.”

Your hands tremble slightly as you reach for your glass of water, taking a sip to steady yourself. “You … you didn’t …”

“I didn’t kill him,” Charles says quickly, sensing your fear. “But I hurt him. Badly. And I don’t regret it.”

You’re silent for a long moment, your mind racing. The Charles you know — the Charles you grew up with, the one who used to give you piggyback rides when you were too tired to walk — wouldn’t do something like this. But then again, this isn’t just anyone we’re talking about. This is you. And for Charles, you’re different. You’ve always been different.

“I did it to protect you,” Charles continues, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I couldn’t just stand by and let him get away with what he did. I couldn’t …”

He trails off, his gaze dropping to the table, his shoulders slumping slightly. It’s as if all the fight has drained out of him, leaving behind only the raw, honest truth of his actions.

You swallow hard, trying to make sense of everything. “But … you could have been arrested. You could have gone to jail.”

Charles laughs, a bitter sound that holds no real amusement. “Not in Monaco,” he says, shaking his head. “Not for this.”

You furrow your brow, confusion evident in your expression. “What do you mean?”

Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I talked to Prince Albert. He gave me a royal pardon. The guy had no chance.”

You blink, stunned by the casual way he says it, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “A royal pardon? Charles, that’s … that’s not normal.”

“No, it’s not,” Charles agrees, his tone somber. “But I don’t care. I’d do it all over again if it meant keeping you safe.”

The weight of his words hangs between you, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. You’ve always known Charles was protective of you, but this … this is something else entirely. He’s crossed a line, and there’s no going back.

For a moment, you’re both silent, the tension in the room thick, suffocating. Charles watches you, his heart pounding in his chest, waiting for you to say something, anything. He’s prepared for you to be angry, to be horrified by what he’s done. But he wasn’t prepared for the look of sadness that crosses your face, the way your shoulders slump as if the weight of the world has suddenly fallen on you.

“I don’t know what to say,” you finally whisper, your voice shaky. “I never wanted you to do something like this for me.”

Charles leans forward, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. His touch is warm, steady, and for a moment, it grounds you, pulls you back from the edge of the panic that’s been rising in your chest.

“I know,” he says softly. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. But it’s what I needed to do. I couldn’t just stand by and let him hurt you.”

You squeeze his hand, your grip tightening as if you’re afraid to let go. “But what if you had been arrested? What if you couldn’t get out of it? I couldn’t bear the thought of you being locked up because of me.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Charles replies, his voice firm, resolute. “I told you, I’d do anything to protect you. And I mean it.”

You look up at him then, your eyes searching his, trying to find some sign that this is all just a bad dream, that you’ll wake up and everything will be back to normal. But all you see is the truth — the raw, unfiltered truth of what Charles has done, and why he did it.

“I don’t know if I should be angry or grateful,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “You’ve always been there for me. But this … this is something else.”

Charles smiles then, a small, sad smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You don’t have to be anything,” he says softly. “Just know that I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

For a moment, you just sit there, holding his hand, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. There’s so much you want to say, so much you want to ask, but you can’t seem to find the right words. Instead, you focus on the warmth of his hand in yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his eyes never leave yours.

And then, before you can second-guess yourself, you lean across the table and press your lips to his. The kiss is soft, tentative at first, but it quickly deepens, the tension that’s been building between you finally finding release.

Charles’ hand comes up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer. The kiss is everything you didn’t know you needed — desperate, passionate, full of all the emotions that have been bubbling beneath the surface.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you try to catch your breath. Charles’ eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide, and there’s a look in them that you’ve never seen before — something raw and vulnerable, something that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

For a moment, neither of you says anything, the silence heavy with the weight of what just happened. Charles’ hand is still in your hair, his thumb gently stroking the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and steady, as if he’s trying to anchor himself in this moment, to hold onto it for as long as he can.

Eventually, you pull back just enough to look into his eyes, your own heart pounding so loudly in your ears that you’re sure he can hear it too. “Charles …” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words catch in your throat. You’re not sure what you want to say, what you’re supposed to say. Everything feels too big, too overwhelming.

Charles doesn’t say anything, just watches you with that same intense gaze, his eyes searching yours for something — reassurance, maybe, or understanding. Slowly, he lowers his hand from your hair, his fingers trailing down the side of your face before he lets it fall to his lap. The loss of his touch leaves you feeling cold, and you almost want to reach out and pull him back to you, to kiss him again and forget everything else. But you don’t.

Instead, you take a shaky breath and try to gather your thoughts, your mind racing. “What … what does this mean?” You finally manage to ask, your voice trembling.

He looks down at his hands, his brows furrowing in thought. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “All I know is that I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve known you my whole life, but … this is different.”

You bite your lip, trying to make sense of it all. “I’ve always cared about you. You know that. But I never thought …” You trail off, unable to finish the sentence, but the implication hangs in the air between you.

Charles finally looks up at you again, his expression softening. “Neither did I,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “But now that it’s happened … I don’t think I can go back. I don’t want to.”

You’re silent for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you. There’s a part of you that wants to be cautious, to protect yourself from whatever this is, but there’s another part — one that’s stronger — that wants to take the leap, to see where this could go.

“I don’t want to either,” you whisper, the admission almost too much to say out loud. But it’s the truth, and once it’s out there, you feel a sense of relief, as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Charles’ eyes soften even more, his smile widening slightly. He reaches out, taking your hand in his once more, his grip warm and steady. “Then let’s see where this goes,” he says, his voice low and full of promise.

You nod, unable to keep the smile off your face. “Okay.”

For a moment, you both just sit there, hands intertwined, the food on the table long forgotten as the reality of what just happened begins to sink in. There’s still so much you need to talk about, so many questions that need answers, but for now, this is enough. The kiss, the confession, the promise of something more — it’s all more than you ever expected.

Charles gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes never leaving yours. “Whatever happens next, I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

You smile, your heart swelling with affection. “I know,” you say softly. “And I’m here for you too.”

He nods, his expression earnest. “Good.”

The silence between you is comfortable now, the tension from earlier finally dissipating. You feel a sense of peace settle over you, a feeling that everything will be okay, no matter what comes next.

Finally, Charles glances at the table, his smile turning sheepish. “We should probably finish our lunch,” he says, his tone light.

You laugh, the sound easing the last of your lingering nerves. “Yeah, we probably should.”

You both pick up your forks, and the conversation shifts back to lighter topics, the ease between you returning as if nothing has changed. But you both know that something has. There’s a new understanding between you, a new connection that wasn’t there before. And as you finish your meal, stealing glances at each other across the table, you can’t help but feel excited about what the future might hold.

***

Monaco at night is a different kind of magic. The streets are quieter, the buzz of the day replaced by the hum of luxury cars and the distant sound of waves crashing against the harbor. The city glows with a soft, golden light, the kind that makes everything look a little more romantic, a little more surreal. And tonight, with you tucked into Charles’ side as you walk home from dinner, it feels like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you.

You’ve been together for a few years now, and yet there’s still a thrill in the way he holds you close, his arm draped around your shoulders as if he’s claiming you all over again. There’s something comforting in the familiarity of it, the way your bodies just fit together, like two puzzle pieces that were always meant to be.

The conversation between you is light, filled with teasing banter about the dessert you shared at the restaurant — how he insists you ate most of it, and you argue that he’s the one with the sweet tooth. It’s the kind of easy back-and-forth that comes with knowing someone inside out, with having weathered storms together and come out stronger on the other side.

But as you turn down a quieter street, the atmosphere shifts. It’s subtle at first — a flicker of movement in the corner of Charles’ eye, the sense that you’re being watched. And then, out of nowhere, a voice cuts through the night, crude and jarring in its tone.

“Hey, baby, how about a smile?”

You freeze, your muscles tensing instinctively. The voice belongs to a man leaning against a lamppost, his eyes raking over you with a leer that makes your skin crawl. You feel Charles stiffen beside you, his arm tightening around your shoulders protectively. But before you can react, the man pushes off from the lamppost and approaches, his hand reaching out to touch you.

It all happens in a blur. The man’s fingers graze your arm, and you flinch back, your heart racing. But before you can fully process the disgust that courses through you, Charles is already moving.

The look in his eyes is one you recognize — a dark, dangerous glint that you’ve only seen a handful of times, but each one burned into your memory. It’s the same look he had that night at the club, the night he became more than just your protector, the night everything between you changed.

He’s about to lunge, his body coiled like a spring, ready to unleash all the anger simmering beneath the surface. But you place a hand on his chest, stopping him just in time.

“Charles,” you say softly, but there’s a knowing edge to your voice, a familiarity with the situation. “Should I call Prince Albert? Let him know you might need another pardon?”

Charles pauses, his gaze flickering to yours, and for a moment, the tension eases. The corners of his mouth twitch upward, a dark, almost feral smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice low and laced with a dangerous amusement. “This must be the fourth one this year.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound lightening the mood, if only for a second. “Actually,” you correct him, your eyes sparkling with mischief, “it’s the fifth.”

His smile widens at that, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. But the humor doesn’t last long. The reality of the situation pulls him back, and his expression hardens once more as he turns his attention to the man who dared to touch you.

“Stay here,” Charles says, his tone leaving no room for argument. It’s the voice of a man who’s about to do something he won’t regret — something he’s done before.

You nod, trusting him, knowing that whatever happens next, it’s out of your hands. And as Charles steps away from you, you can’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction, a sense of justice in knowing that this man is about to face the consequences of his actions.

The man, oblivious to the danger he’s in, sneers at Charles, clearly unbothered by the presence of another man. “What are you gonna do, pretty boy?” He taunts, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You think you can scare me?”

Charles doesn’t respond immediately. He takes his time, closing the distance between them with a measured, almost predatory grace. And when he finally speaks, his voice is as cold as ice.

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with,” Charles says quietly, the words laced with a threat that hangs heavy in the air.

The man laughs, the sound grating and unpleasant. “Oh, I know exactly who you are,” he sneers. “You’re that driver, right? Leclerc? Big deal. Doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want.”

Charles tilts his head slightly, as if considering the man’s words, and then, to your surprise, he laughs — a dark, cruel sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You think being in public will protect you?” Charles asks, his voice dripping with mockery. “You think because there are people around, I won’t make you regret ever laying a hand on her?”

The man falters, some of his bravado slipping as he realizes that Charles isn’t backing down. He glances around, perhaps expecting someone to come to his aid, but the street is empty, save for a few onlookers who are too far away to hear the exchange.

Charles doesn’t give him time to think. With a speed that takes the man by surprise, he grabs him by the collar, yanking him forward with a strength that belies his lean frame. The man stumbles, his cocky demeanor evaporating as he realizes he’s in over his head.

“You should have walked away,” Charles murmurs, his voice dangerously calm. “But now … now you’re going to pay.”

The man struggles, trying to push Charles away, but it’s futile. Charles is a professional athlete, his body honed for strength and endurance, and the man is no match for him. Within seconds, Charles has him pinned against the wall of a nearby building, his forearm pressed against the man’s throat.

“Get off me, you psycho!” The man chokes out, his voice panicked as he claws at Charles’ arm.

But Charles doesn’t budge. He leans in closer, his face inches from the man’s, his eyes filled with a cold, calculated fury. “You’re going to regret ever touching her,” he says quietly, his words laced with venom.

And then, without warning, he drags the man away from the wall, pulling him down the street with a force that makes it clear this isn’t just a warning — it’s a promise. The man tries to resist, tries to fight back, but it’s no use. Charles is stronger, faster, and more determined, his grip unyielding as he hauls the man toward a darker, more secluded part of the street.

You watch from a distance, your heart pounding in your chest. Part of you wants to stop him, to tell him it’s not worth it, but another part of you— the part that remembers the fear and helplessness you felt when that man touched you — wants Charles to follow through, to make sure this man never does this to anyone else again.

As they disappear around a corner, you take a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside you. You trust Charles, you know he’ll be careful, but you can’t help the worry that creeps in, the fear of what might happen next.

Minutes pass, each one feeling like an eternity, and then finally, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up, your breath catching in your throat as you see Charles emerging from the shadows, alone.

His expression is unreadable, his eyes dark and stormy as he walks back to you. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence heavy with unspoken words.

Then, without a word, Charles pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if he’s afraid to let go. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your hair. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You shake your head, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “You don’t have to apologize,” you say softly, your hand cupping his cheek. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He smiles then, a small, tired smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m okay,” he says, though you can hear the weariness in his voice. “But he won’t be bothering you — or anyone else — again.”

You nod, knowing there’s more to the story than he’s telling you, but you don’t press him. Not now, not when he’s holding you so tightly, as if he’s afraid to let you go.

“Let’s go home,” you say gently, taking his hand in yours.

Charles nods, his grip on your hand firm as he leads you back down the street, away from the darkness and into the light. And as you walk together, side by side, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief, a sense of safety in knowing that no matter what happens, Charles will always be there to protect you.

2K notes · View notes

sluttywoozi · 2 months ago

Text

(Boy)Friend Material | Part II | csc x f!reader

Part I

Seungcheol really thought that, having met you on a dating app, you'd be more into, well, dating him. He supposes he should have made sure you knew that's what he thought you were doing.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~9.2k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: romance, smut

Warnings: elevator makeouts, minor safe sex discussion, lil tiny mention of birth control making reader depressed, restraining, oral f. rec., vaginal fingering, squirting, sex with a condom, crying during sex

Reader Notes: referred to with she/her pronouns, has two cats, has breasts and a vagina, gets carried by cheol, wap

Seungcheol is still fucking floored that he’s been dating you without your knowledge for four months.

All this time, he’s feared that you weren’t as into him as he was into you. What else was he supposed to think when he was constantly the one reaching out? He was the one making the dates, and inviting you to hangouts with his friends, and asking if he could come over and spend time with you.

He tried not to mind that it was always him hugging you, him wanting to hold your hand, him touching you in all the little ways people in relationships do. He told himself that he just hadn’t discovered your love language yet, and that once he did, things would change.

Honestly, if you were anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have stuck it out so long. He was willing and able to because you’re you, and he likes you so damn much.

You got his attention effortlessly with your opener, and the way you committed to the bit instead of backing down or changing the subject kept him interested. Then when he met you, you were somehow even funnier and prettier in person, and he was fucking enchanted. As soon as you parted ways, he was trying to figure out how he could see you again, dreaming up different scenarios and cycling through ideas until finally, he just asked. You said yes, so he kept asking.

And now here he sits on your couch (where he can be found most Sundays), playing with your cats and listening to your musings as you pack your weekend bag. He doubts you think he can hear you or you probably wouldn’t be asking yourself, “Comfy or sexy?” out loud. He’s not sure which you pick but he’s kind of hoping for comfy because that’s always been sexy to him, the surety that you’re comfortable around him and cozy as can be.

It’s been a while since his last relationship and he’s not a serial dater like some of his friends, so he was a bit out of practice when he met you. Still, he counted himself lucky that you grew to be so comfortable around him after only a few weeks, though now he knows it’s because you thought he was just your friend.

He regrets that it took him thinking you wanted to break up to finally be honest about feeling like the relationship was one sided, because everything could have been resolved so long ago.

All the times he’s thought about kissing you, he could have. Every morning that he’s surprised you with your favorite iced latte, every flower garden that he’s ever brought you to, every movie night that he’s looked over at you and watched the colors dance across your face in the darkness. He could have been kissing you for months, and you could have been kissing him back.

He mourns the lost time, but part of him can’t be upset this miscommunication happened because it’s made him move with purpose. He’s constantly thinking of you, always trying to be what you need, and he honestly isn’t sure he would know you this well if he didn’t feel like he had to prove himself worthy.

It’s not like he’s going to stop trying to prove himself now, but it helps to be reassured that your withholding nature wasn’t because he likes you more than you like him, it was because you didn’t know he likes you at all.

He feels so juvenile talking in terms of like, but he’s a little scared to introduce love to the equation. He could so easily define his feelings for you in that way, but it’s been four months of dating you without you dating him back, and he’s reluctant to take that leap without being sure you’ll take it with him.

After he bore his soul to you, though, you said all of those things, told him that you don’t ever want to let him go, which sounds a whole lot like a love confession just minus the actual word…

Bluebell paws at his hand, asking for attention, and he grants it, trying to shake off worries that don’t hold weight anymore. Poppy sprawls against his thigh, purring so loud he can feel the vibrations.

This has been enough, he tells himself. Count yourself lucky that it’ll get even better now that she can knowingly participate in the relationship.

“Ready,” you say in a sing-song voice as you struggle through the door to your bedroom, your shoulder laden down with a duffle and your hand holding your giant water bottle…cup…thing. You’re wearing your favorite lounge set, one he’s seen countless times, but the way the soft fabric clings to the curves of your body still makes his heart pound.

He rises quickly to greet you, sending Poppy skittering off the couch. She darts over to you, yowling as if he committed a mortal sin, and you pout indulgently at her, asking, “Did the big man scare you? Poor baby.”

He doesn’t mind the teasing, especially when you call him big in the process.

Before he gets too wrapped up in staring at you, he strides over, carefully taking hold of the strap on your shoulder and lifting until you slide your arm through so he can shoulder the duffle instead.

“Wanna get a refill before we go? I know you like your water more than mine,” he offers, continuing to say (because you’re so fucking cute when you’re adamant about something), “Even though it tastes the same.”

“It does not taste the same! My water is better and more refreshing!” You claim instantly, walking across the living room to your kitchenette.

“Maybe that’s because I’ve changed your water filter twice since I met you even though it only needs to be changed twice a year.”

“Maybe so, but you’ll change it a third time for our six month anniversary and you’ll do it with a smile on your face,” you playfully command him as you fill your monstrous water container.

Six month anniversary. So you really do want to keep him around.

“Yeah, baby, I will,” he sighs, hoping you can’t tell that your little light-hearted threat has him feeling like he could drown, he’s so awash in adoration for you.

“You’ve never called me baby before,” you gasp gleefully, spinning to face him with bright eyes and a wide smile.

“I didn’t know if you’d like it,” he shrugs, a bit sheepish that it’s taken him this long to test it out.

“I love it, baby is my name now,” you tell him, screwing the top back onto your water and sounding so serious, it’s almost comical.

You grasp your cup, holding your free hand out to him for what might be the first time. His heart skips a beat as he takes it, intertwining his fingers with yours and following you to your door.

“Bye Bell, bye Poppy, I love you,” you call out, looking over your shoulder to find your cats already asleep in their favorite spots on your mushroom and flower cat tree. He whispers his own goodbye and closes the door gently, pressing the button and turning the lock until it clicks.

Immediately, you’re tugging him down the hall and towards the elevator, a chuckle escaping him at the sound of your bubbly laughter and quick footsteps.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” you press the button and chant at the machine, bouncing in place beside him.

“Excited?” He teases, amused by your lack of patience.

Your head turns at the speed of light as you look at him with wide eyes and ask, “Aren’t you?”

He would be sarcastic but it sounds like your heart is primed to break, and he can’t risk hurting you just for a joke.

“More than I can say,” he answers honestly, expecting your smile but not the way you hustle him into the elevator and back him up against the wall, wrapping your arm around his neck and looking away only to press the ground floor button.

“You gonna kiss me or not?” He murmurs, his eyes already on your lips as you get close enough for him to feel your chest against his.

You answer without words, your perfect lips soft and unyielding, his hand dropping to your hip to tug you into his body as your fingernails scratch at the short hair on the nape of his neck. The feeling sends a shiver down his spine and drags a sigh out of his mouth, one that you swallow with a needy gasp.

He lowers your duffle to the floor, stepping forward until he’s got you against the wall and sliding his thigh between your legs to see what other sounds he can summon from you as his passion starts to overflow. His lips move against yours insistently, a fire lighting up in his veins when you wilt into him and let him take control, the transfer of power mouthwateringly sweet.

And then you pull away. You pull away and he tries to chase you but you stop him with a hand on his chest, and he won’t push you, he would never push you.

“Everything okay?” He pants, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts and images of you that fill it.

“Yeah, it’s just- we’re here,” you whisper, blinking at him and glancing over at the elevator doors.

The open elevator doors.

The lobby is empty, but if Seungcheol is being truthful, he thinks he wouldn’t really care if people did see.

You’re his girlfriend, and he’s your boyfriend. What’s so wrong with it?

Then again, part of him does want to keep you all to himself, kissing in elevators included. Which is why he’s quick to step away from you and take your hand again, grabbing the duffle before pulling you through the lobby and to his car.

He’s not in such a rush that he won’t still open your door for you, waiting as you get in and gently shutting the door before tucking your bag in the backseat and jogging around to the driver’s side. He closes his door quietly even in his haste, not wanting to startle you or make you think he’s upset in any way.

His hand finds your thigh again after starting the car up and getting on the road, the silence that fills the space anticipatory instead of stifling like it was just an hour ago. He finds himself clenching his jaw and bouncing his left knee, counting down the traffic lights that sit between your place and his until finally, there’s only one left.

It’s red when he rolls to a stop, and his heart is thumping so hard in his chest that he swears if he looked down, he’d be able to see it beating. He glances over at you and finds you already staring at him, which has happened more than a few times in the months that he’s known you. This time is different, though, because you don’t pretend you weren’t looking, or start rambling nervously, or even look away.

You just meet his gaze and let him see everything. Your nerves, your desire, your impatience, he sees it all, and feels it all himself. For perhaps the first time since he met you, he knows for certain that you and him are on the exact same wavelength.

He’s so entranced that he doesn’t notice the light turn green until the car behind him honks, and that disturbance is still barely enough to make him tear his gaze from yours. His eyes reluctantly return to the road as he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze and presses the gas pedal, closing the distance between the light and his parking garage as quickly as the speed limit allows.

A long minute passes and he’s pulling into his designated parking spot, his seatbelt unbuckled and his door open before the car is even off. Sometimes, you’re distracted and he gets to open your door for you, but this isn’t one of those times. You’re out just as fast as him, meeting him at the trunk and taking his hand.

Together, you speed walk to the door that opens into his hallway. You pass through first and then he does, your pace getting faster the closer you get to his place until finally, finally, he’s unlocking the door and beckoning you inside. He pauses to slip his sneakers off at the rack and you follow suit, the sight of your shoes next to his lighting up the part of his brain that craves domesticity with you.

You don’t come over as often as he goes to your place so when you slow, he takes the lead, his hand still holding yours tightly and his heart still racing.

He doesn’t quite mean to press you up against the wall but he takes a step forward as you take a step back and then it’s just too easy to lean in and taste you again, your lips supple and your sigh sweet.

The kiss starts off slow, tame, but it’s not long before he’s inching closer and sucking at your bottom lip, his tongue gliding along yours when you open your mouth and let him in. You’re so warm and soft against him, your breasts flush with his chest and his dick starting to throb against your stomach, the combination of sensations making his head spin.

It seems he can’t get enough of you now after what feels like millions of missed opportunities, millions of times he’s wanted his lips on yours and his hands on your body. He’s lost in you before he knows it, near mindless with desperation and devotion, his hunger for you so overwhelming that he fears no amount of you will ever be enough.

It’s never been like this before, nobody else has ever made him feel as if he would suffocate without their air or perish without their touch, but here he is, kissing you like you’re breathing pure oxygen and gripping your hips like he’ll fade into nothingness if he lets go.

He knew you were special to him but he didn’t know he would need you like this, and the realization is enough to make him pull back, saying through sharp breaths, “Maybe we should slow down, I don’t want you to feel like we have to rush.”

You gaze at him, almost through him, and say, with great care, “Seungcheol, I’ve wanted your dick inside me since we met. If you want to slow down, we can, but if I had it my way, we’d be moving even faster.”

And fuck if that isn’t enough to spur him into action, to make his cock twitch in his jeans and his hands fly to your waist, a rough, “Jump,” escaping his swollen lips.

You gasp but wrap your legs around him when he starts to lift you, his grip shifting to your thighs as you vine your arms around his neck, seemingly holding on for dear life. He’d die before dropping you so you have nothing to worry about, but he’s too focused on getting you to his bed to inform you of that fact. He also maybe likes feeling you cling to him like this too much to give you any reason to stop.

“We need a condom, right?” He checks as he walks, fairly certain the answer will be yes.

Jeonghan bought him a box when he first started seeing you, the exact size he needs and brand he likes, and handed them over with a wink and a wiggle of his eyebrows. Seungcheol rolled his eyes at the time, but he’s thankful for him now because he never would have bought them himself, too fearful of jinxing the situation.

“Yeah, I stopped my birth control, it was making me hella depressed. Is that- I mean, are you okay with using one?” You ask, though you absolutely don’t need to.

“Baby, all I care about is making you feel safe. I’ll wear a condom, I’ll pull out, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“You’re the best boyfriend,” you sigh, hugging him tightly and pressing a kiss to his cheek as he crosses through the doorway to his bedroom.

He left it relatively clean, thankfully, and there’s nothing embarrassing out, unless he counts the picture of him and you that he got framed last month to keep on his nightstand. You see it when he carefully deposits you onto your back on the mattress, your face twisting up like you might cry.

He’s alarmed until you say, “I have that photo framed on my nightstand.”

The fact that you have one is enough to make him smile but the fact that you picked the same picture is enough to make him fucking beam, his lips stretched too wide to kiss you even though he really wants to.

He tries anyway, his smile fading as he braces a hand next to your head and presses his mouth to yours, climbing up on the bed when you grip his shirt and start to pull him. He’s imagined this so many times, pictured you under him and on top of him and in front of him (face down, ass up as he slides inside of you).

He’s made himself cum to the thought of you in this bed, and now that he has you here, he almost doesn’t know where to start. You seem to have your own ideas and desires though, and he’d give anything to find out what they are.

So, like Seungcheol always has, he just asks.

“You said you’ve wanted me since we met… What have you thought about?” His voice is ragged when he speaks, deep, but he thinks you like it, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip before your breath leaves you in a sigh.

“Lots of things,” you whisper, your hands skimming down his chest until they find the hem of his shirt and start to push it up. He sits back on his knees between your legs and hauls it off, fighting a smirk at the way your eyes grow hazy.

You hesitate to put your hands on him, so he takes one of them in his own and presses your palm to his stomach, his muscles jumping at your warm, gentle touch.

“Like what?”

“Like… how big you probably are. If you’d be soft and sweet or if you’d be a little rough, a little mean.”

Following your words, he drags your hand down and lets you feel him, his dick hard and pressing into the zipper of his jeans. You can’t cover all of it, but you close your fingers around the shaft as best you can and rub firmly, one, two, three times.

“Fuck,” he sighs as you squeeze, the pressure making his eyelids flutter as pleasure sparks within him. “Which do you want more? Soft and sweet or rough and mean? I can be whatever you want.”

“You’re already all I want you to be, Cheol, so just be you.”

God, you’re going to be the end of him. Death by swollen heart.

“A bit of both it is then,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, shifting his grip to your wrist before pushing your hand up to rest beside your head. He does the same with your other hand, leaving you unable to move your upper body.

He’s about to break away to check in, but you melt into the bed and wrap your legs around his waist, tugging his hips into yours with a soft moan.

The sound sends a lick of heat down his spine, his dick pulsing in time with his heart and so hard, it almost hurts. He breathes a shuddering sigh into your mouth and grinds into you, wishing his jeans could magically disappear so he wouldn’t have to stop kissing you to take them off.

The denim is getting to be too restrictive though, especially when he’s dying to feel you with no barriers at all. So he tries to pull back, but you whimper into his mouth and hug him closer with your legs, and the only way he can respond to that is by kissing you harder and letting his body press into yours.

He’s gone for you for a few more minutes, his jeans all but forgotten as you roll your hips against his and sink your teeth into his bottom lip. The slight sting makes him gasp and dig his cock into you in retaliation, his hands tightening around your wrists when you just push back and bite his lip again.

It feels almost impossible to pull away from you now but he can’t take it anymore, the clothes need to come off, yours in particular. He’s imagined this too often and wanted you for too long to make this a quick, messy, fully-clothed fuck. You deserve better, you deserve everything, and he’s going to do his absolute best to give it to you.

So he breaks the connection, ignoring the whine that escapes you to pant out, “I’ll kiss you again when we’re naked, promise.”

“Yes, oh my god, take your pants off,” you reply in a rush, your eyes lighting up as you attempt to free your wrists from his hold. He releases you immediately, but he climbs off the bed before you can wrestle his jeans down, his hands finding yours and pulling until you stand with him. With a laugh, he says, “I said ‘when we’re naked,’ baby. That means you, too.”

“Strip me then,” you raise your arms, a challenge in your gaze, and he can do nothing but accept it, tugging your shirt up and off and freezing in place when he sees what you have on under it.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs, staring at the cherry red lace that encases your breasts. There are delicate little bows on the straps and the lace is so fine that he can see right through it, could probably rip it without even trying.

“Did you wear this for me?” He asks absentmindedly, his eyes caught on your tits as they rise and fall with your breathing.

“Yeah, I bought it when we started talking. I thought you’d like it,” you answer softly, tucking your thumbs into the waistband of your lounge pants and pushing them down just enough for him to get a peek of the very same red. “It’s a matching set.”

His knees weak at the thought, he sits heavily on the mattress, setting his hands on your hips and guiding you to stand between his legs.

“Can I see?”

“That’s kind of the point,” you whisper like it’s a secret, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders as he starts to pull your pants down. They slip off easily and pool on the floor, leaving you nearly bare before him and more bewitching than he could have ever imagined.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he sighs out, feeling almost dazed as he takes the sight of you in, his thumbs tracing over the bows that sit on the front of your hips. He sinks his fingertips into you, squeezing to feel the give of your flesh and using all of his willpower to stop himself from tearing the lacy panties right off.

He could (and would) buy you a new set, but you bought this with him in mind, and had to wait so long to wear it for him. It’s too special for him to damage it just because he’s desperate to see you bare.

You must be able to read his mind, taking your hands off his shoulders to reach behind your back and undo the clasps, the bra loosening on your body before you shrug it down your arms and toss it on the bed.

Seungcheol finds himself spellbound once again, captivated by all the skin before him, the way your nipples pebble under his gaze making his breath catch in his chest. “Can I touch you?”

“I feel like I’ll die if you don’t,” you answer immediately, gasping in relief when he smooths his hands up to cover your breasts. He cups them, testing the weight, and squeezes gently, already obsessed with the feeling of your soft, supple skin under his palms. His thumbs drag over your nipples, circling them until you let out a quiet little whimper, one that he would give his life to hear again.

“Lay down for me, baby,” He requests, needing you spread out before him so he can fully drink you in.

Forgetting a change in position means he has to stop touching you, he pouts when you step out of his reach, though he’s distracted almost instantly by the cheeky cut of your panties.

He stands on knees that are still slightly weak, getting out of your way and watching as you climb up on the bed. He tries not to ogle you but your ass looks so fucking biteable from here, and he can’t even let himself focus on the space between your legs because he just might combust if he gets a good look.

You settle on your back in the center of the mattress and he feels his heart squeeze at the sight of you in his bed. He’s wanted you in it for months, and not just for sex, but for cuddling and reading together and falling asleep in each other’s arms, too. So much time has been wasted, but he won’t let it bother him, not when this literally feels like a dream come true.

He starts moving toward you, trying to formulate a game plan for how he can kiss your stomach and suck one of your nipples at the same time, but you hold a hand out and say, “Stop.”

Every muscle in his body locks up, his heart pounding in anxiety that he’s done something wrong, that you’ve changed your mind about him, that you-

“Don’t look so worried, Cheollie, I just want you to take your jeans off,” you soothe, making him sigh out his stress and squeeze his eyes shut.

“Listen to me, Seungcheol. I like you so much that it scares me sometimes. I like you in a way that is concerning to my friends. I like you more than I have ever liked anyone else. My crush on you is deeper than the Mariana Trench,” you say emphatically. “I will tell you this until you believe it.”

Fuck, he feels like he might cry.

Hearing these words from you is affirming beyond belief, soothing to his very soul, and the steadiness and truth in your voice as you said them is what gives him the courage to admit it.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers quietly, his eyes still closed. He hears rustling, envisions you making your way to the edge of the bed, and he’s not surprised when he feels your hands take his.

“I know I’m in love with you,” you whisper back, your fingers intertwined with his and your voice just as sure as before.

He blinks his eyes open, finds you staring up at him with a teary, affection-soaked gaze, and can’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss stays chaste and soft even though your tits are out and he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, this moment so precious to him, his desire takes the back burner.

Until you pull back and tell him, “Now take your pants off, please. I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Fuck the back burner, you just lit the stove on fire. He unbuttons his jeans, the fly barely halfway down before he’s shoving them off and stepping out of them, kicking them away like their presence offends him. You didn’t ask him to, but he sheds his boxer briefs as well, feeling his cock pop up and hit his stomach before it hangs heavily between his legs.

Your eyes grow wide and you open your mouth to say something, but he can’t stop hearing, ‘I’m so fucking wet for you,’ the words seared into his brain forevermore.

“Let me eat you out?” He practically begs, willing to ask again on his knees if you want him to.

“I love that you ask, but you don’t need to anymore. Just do what feels right and I’ll stop you if I don’t like it,” you promise, laying back and lifting your ass for him as he slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts to tug them down.

And shit, they’re soaked, fucking sodden with your arousal, the lace sticking to your pussy as he peels them away. He can feel his mouth water when the scent of you fills his nose, leaving him breathless and near brainless with need for you.

Sinking to his knees, he gently pushes your thighs apart to reveal the prettiest fucking pussy he’s ever seen. Maybe he just thinks that because it’s yours, but that doesn’t really matter when you’re glistening and open and all for him.

He’s always imagined himself having some amount of finesse when he finally got his tongue between your legs, always pictured going slow and taking you apart piece by piece, or at least pacing himself even a little bit. Now that he’s here, with his hands on your thighs and his face just inches from you, he knows that won’t be the case at all.

You smell too fucking good for him to hesitate any longer, his tongue darting out and dragging from your opening to your clit. He can’t hold in the groan that leaves him at the first taste of you, his cock twitching as your arousal coats his taste buds, heady and rich and perfect. His eyes flutter closed and he buries his face in your cunt, pushing your thighs up to your stomach so he has more room to work.

He feels your hands against his, feels them hooking beneath your knees to hold your thighs up for him, and he moans gratefully in response, setting his thumbs on either side of your pussy and pulling your lips apart so he can taste you more directly.

He dips his tongue into your entrance and you clench around it, the sensation making him whimper into your pussy and delve even deeper inside. Just this might not be enough to get you there but you taste fucking heavenly and feel even better, and he’s wanted his mouth on you like this for months.

So he allows himself to be selfish for a few minutes, fucking you with his tongue just to feel the way you quiver and squeeze around the muscle. Your arousal starts to leak down his chin and he almost regrets the waste of it, pulling his tongue from your pussy to latch his lips to your opening and suck.

“Seungcheol, please, I need-,” you implore him, your words halting when he fills you with two of his fingers, the digits sinking inside with a squelch. You whine above him and his gaze travels up your body to find your back arched and your kiss-swollen lips parted, every sound that escapes them like music to his ears.

Fuck, you’re a goddamn wet dream.

His fingers curl inside of you, exploring until he finds that patch of nerves along your front wall. As soon as he grazes it, you gasp brokenly and buck into his touch, making him bite his lip and return his eyes to your pussy and the way it swallows his fingers. His mouth finds your clit and suctions around it, the little bud firm under his tongue as he flicks it back and forth, following your sounds to find what you like best.

“Cheol, I-I’m getting close,” you moan out in a warning tone, but it only makes him more determined, his fingertips grinding into you and his lips puckering around your clit. You seem to love it when he sucks in pulses and crooks his fingers into your sweet spot at the same time so he sets a quick tempo, hoping to help you find the edge and then tip you over it.

It happens sooner than he expects, the molten velvet of your cunt tightening around his fingers rhythmically as your cries reach a fever pitch. He doesn’t stop, wonders if he even could when you’re making the noises you are and begging him, “Please, Cheollie, please.”

He would soothe you but his mouth is still hard at work on your clit, his tongue rolling over the bud again and again as his fingers prod that spot inside of you. Soon enough, you can’t speak, just sobbing and sinking a hand into his hair to hold him in place, your thigh falling to rest on his shoulder.

He doesn’t mind the weight, loves your soft skin against his ear and the feeling of you pressing his face into your pussy, as if he’d even consider pulling away now. You want to cum again, he can tell, and he’s not going to stop until you do.

He fucks his fingers in and out of you faster, pursing his lips around your clit and sucking deeply, grumbling and groaning into you in encouragement, his brows furrowed and his vision hazy.

Your cunt spasms around his fingers, growing impossibly wetter and locking down like a vise until all he can do is curl his fingertips into your sweet spot and dig his tongue into your clit. A sharp whine pierces the air and your thigh trembles on his shoulder as you break, arousal gushing out of you in spurts to coat his neck and drip down over his collarbones.

It’s the only flood he’s ever been thankful for, and before you’ve even started to recover, he’s already voicing his gratitude.

“Fucking beautiful, baby. That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me, oh my god,” he mumbles, pressing kisses along the thigh that rests on his shoulder, withdrawing his fingers to clean them off with his mouth.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you whisper dreamily, struggling to lift your head.

He lowers your thigh and rises to his feet, shaking out his stiff legs before leaning down over you and letting you taste yourself on his lips. The kiss grows deep in an instant, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you wrap your legs around him and pull his body into yours. His aching dick gets trapped in between until you reach down and take hold of it, guiding it to rest against your hot, wet cunt.

That first bit of contact is enough to pull a low groan from him, the slippery heat of your pussy on the top side of his cock making him throb and leak against you. He’s so fucking desperate for you but there’s only one thing that he wants more than to sink inside of you bare right now, and that’s to respect your wishes (and not get you pregnant… for the next year or two, at least).

Maybe someday he can fuck you without a condom but that day won’t be today, so with great difficulty, he drags his lips away from yours and reaches an arm out to pull open his bedside drawer. He feels around for a second, exclaiming victoriously when his fingers catch on the box before he takes hold of it and sets it on the bed.

Looking back at you for approval, he finds you beaming up at him like he hung the stars in the sky just so you could bask in their light, and fuck, he swears he’d rearrange them all in the shape of you, given the chance.

He fumbles one-handed with the box for a minute, his other hand braced next to your head to keep himself from crushing you, before you take over and tear it open, ripping a packet off the strip and tossing the rest onto his nightstand.

“We’ll need those for later,” you inform him matter-of-factly as you unwrap the condom and reach down to wrap your fingers around his dick. He’s been leaking enough precum that your hand glides when you pump it up and down, and it takes an astounding amount of self control not to fuck into your grasp as if he’s never been touched before.

You place the condom at his tip and start to roll it on and even that is heavenly, your touch electric and your eyes bright like the summer sun when your gaze meets his. He feels you line him up, his cock jumping at just the thought of being inside your perfect cunt, barrier or no barrier. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling his hips into yours, and he takes that for the hint it is.

Sucking in a deep breath, he starts to sink into you, the head of his cock pushing through the tightness of your entrance to disappear inside of you inch by inch. He goes slowly, both to give you time to adjust and to give himself the opportunity to get it together, the blazing heat and intoxicating grip of your pussy wiping out every coherent thought in his brain. There’s a stretch but it’s eased by your arousal, and the way he can feel you relaxing and opening up to accept him is nothing short of exquisite.

“How does it feel?” He gasps out raggedly, watching your face as he finally bottoms out. Your eyebrows are scrunched up and your pretty lips are parted, soft breaths escaping as you hitch your thighs up higher on his waist and let your eyes blink open.

They’re full of tears, making him blanch and immediately start to pull his hips back, sure that he’s hurting you and you’ve been unable to even speak through the pain to tell him.

“No, stay! Stay, Cheollie, it’s fucking perfect,” you plead in a broken voice, hugging him closer with your legs and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Then why are you crying?” He asks, confused and still slightly worried though the fluttering of your walls around him is enough to make him want to cry too.

“I’ve just wanted you for so long, and you make me feel even better than I ever dreamed you would,” you tell him through a wobbly smile. “I think you’re my missing piece.”

“Baby,” he sighs lovingly as he melts against you and drops down to his elbows to press his lips to yours, the movement burying him just a bit deeper inside and making both you and him moan in pleasure.

He doesn’t think he even knows words that could explain how flawless, how right you feel around him, but he can at least try, for you.

“Being inside of you is like… coming home. Like I’ve been wandering in the cold my whole life and I finally found somewhere soft and warm and safe to rest. I kind of want to never leave,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours and gazing into your eyes as he speaks.

“You may not be able to stay forever but I’ll always want you to come home again,” you promise him gently. “You will leave enough to move, though, right? Because-”

Laughing, he squeezes his eyes shut and steels himself before pulling his hips back a few inches, the drag of your clenching walls on his cock enough to steal his breath even with the latex in between. He tries to go slowly as he presses back into you, but the igneous embrace of your cunt draws him in with one effortless, gliding thrust.

Somehow, burying himself inside of you the second time feels even better than the first, and it’s easier to withdraw from your warmth again when he realizes that the pleasure will only compound as he moves more and more.

Fighting to keep his eyes open and on your face while he establishes a rhythm, he builds speed until the catch in your breath and the fluttering of your eyelashes tells him he’s found the best pace for you. He can’t make it out more than a couple inches before your legs around his waist stop him, but he loves that you want him inside as much as he wants to be inside, so he just puts more power behind his hips as he slides back in to make sure you feel it.

Time starts to pass and he falls into something like a trance, the feeling of your pussy clinging to him as he leaves and cradling him as he returns hypnotic. It’s almost as if he’s lost the ability for complex thought and replaced it with pure sensation, just acting on instinct now that his brain has been rendered useless.

It doesn’t help that your gaze is deep, mesmerizing, fucking magnetic. He can’t look away, feels like he can’t even blink as he fucks into you, his face close enough to yours that he’s breathing your air. Still, he wants to be even closer, wants to burrow inside of you, climb into your ribcage, and make a home right next to your heart.

The desire is so intense, it’s nearly frightening, but nothing could scare Seungcheol away from you now. He’s yours, mind, body, and soul, belonging to you in a way he’s never allowed himself to belong to anyone else before.

He hates to admit it, but he’s already starting to get close. Lasting has never been an issue for him, even in the past few months when all he could think about was you, but thinking about you and being inside of you are two very different things. Your pussy is goddamn magical, everything about fucking you is goddamn magical, and he fears his only hope is in changing positions.

“Baby, can I- shit, can I fuck you from behind?” He stalls his movements long enough to ask, dreading the moment he’ll have to pull out completely so you can turn over.

“Um, yes but…I honestly don’t know if I can hold myself up,” you reluctantly admit, like you think it’s something to be embarrassed about.

“That’s what pillows and my hands are for,” he assures you, smiling at the way you relax and unwrap your legs from his waist, allowing him to begin the process of extricating himself from you.

Slowly, he begins to draw his hips back, ignoring the alarm bells that ring in his head as he feels his cock leave your heat inch by inch. It’s only for a minute or two, he tells himself, pushing off of you and sitting up so you can get onto your stomach.

He watches your body move as you roll over, his eyes stuck on the curve of your plush ass before you get your knees under you and they shift to the gleam of your wet, fucked open cunt. Keeping his gaze on you, he reaches to the head of the bed and grabs the two pillows that rest there, sliding them under your hips one after another. You sink into position, your back arched and your cheek pressed against his sheet, completely relaxed even with your body on full display for him.

The groan escapes without his permission, the memory of your taste on his tongue making his mouth water. Before he knows it, he’s on his stomach too and burying his face in your pussy, reaching up to press down on the small of your back so you arch even deeper into him.

“Cheol!” You gasp, pushing back onto his tongue when he shoves it inside of you, making him whimper into your cunt as he devours you.

“Never gonna get enough of this pussy, fuck,” he mutters as he shifts his focus to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking in pulses. He doesn’t know how long he eats you out, just that he goes until you’re dripping down his face again and squirming against him, desperate to cum.

“Seungcheol, please, I ne-need your cock, need you to fill me up,” you cry out, reaching back and gripping one of his hands where it holds you down.

His dick jumps and leaks into the condom at your words, the plea in your voice sparking a shiver he feels all the way from his scalp to his toes. Pulling his tongue from you, he rises back up on his knees and shuffles forward, taking hold of his cock and gliding it up and down the seam of you, nudging at your clit.

“Cheol,” you begin, likely about to threaten him. He would love to hear it but your entrance catches on the head of his dick and he can’t resist the alluring, feverish depths of your cunt, sliding inside in one long, ruthless thrust.

You keen when he reaches the end of you but you also tilt your hips to accept the last inch, the snug clutch of your pussy near mythical in the bliss it brings him. With one hand gripping your hip to hold you up and the other firm on the small of your back to keep you in place, he starts thrusting in and out of you.

The tempo he takes is brutal, fierce, the force of his hips impacting your ass making it ripple and bounce as he fucks into you. His hearing is fuzzy with how fucking good it feels but he can still make out the smack of his skin against yours and the slick sound of his cock gliding through your wetness. There’s a squelch every time he bottoms out, and accompanied by your whines and whimpers, all of the noises combine to create a masterpiece of a melody.

Seungcheol truly thought the pause would help but he’s right back where he started, throbbing and leaking for you and so fucking close to the edge, he’s concerned he’ll make it there before you do. Sure, you already came twice, but you deserve a third, a fourth if he can hold himself back long enough - one orgasm for every month he spent not making you cum.

The hand on your back slips around under your hips, working itself down between your legs to find your clit. It’s swollen beneath his fingers, slippery from the arousal his dick keeps pushing out, which only makes it easier to swirl circles into the bud, the way your pussy instantly clenches around him making him moan roughly.

The added resistance just enhances each stroke, your walls trying to suck his cock back in when he pulls out and hugging him tighter and tighter every time he pushes inside again. He fears he won’t be able to make you cum without it making him cum too, but there’s something so poetic about finding that euphoria together that he can’t be bothered about breaking this soon.

“Getting close, baby?” He asks, fairly sure what your answer will be.

“Yeah, Cheollie, wan-wanna cum with you inside me so bad,” you gasp, craning your neck to look back at him. “Thought about it every time I-”

You can’t finish your sentence when his fingers start to move faster, but he thinks he knows where you were going with it.

“Every time you fucked yourself, you wished it was me instead, huh?” He teases a little meanly, knowing he has no room to talk.

Your face crumples as you nod, tears filling your eyes, and he leans down over you, his hand leaving your hip to brace himself so he doesn’t suffocate you. He presses his lips to your cheek, your jaw, your neck, murmuring, “I did the same fucking thing, baby, and I always wanted it to be you.”

“Promise?” You whisper, a vulnerable tinge to your voice. He’s reminded that, until tonight, you had no idea how he felt about you. This is all still new, and he needs to be kind, delicate, reassuring as you acclimate to the reality of him being in love with you.

Stopping all movement so you can fully focus on his words, he whispers back, “Cross my heart and hope to die. Ever since we met, I’ve thought about you, wanted you, dreamed about you. I fell for you. You’re it for me.”

“You're it for me too, Seungcheol,” you tell him gently, before asking, “Can I turn back over? I want you to hold me.”

He answers by smacking one last kiss to your cheek and climbing off of you, helping to roll you onto your back and pulling one of the pillows out from under your hips, leaving you slightly elevated but not so much that it’s uncomfortable. Sighing contentedly as he stretches himself out along your body, he slides his forearm under your shoulders to pull you into his chest and holds himself up with that elbow, slipping the other hand between your bodies to guide his dick inside of you.

“Better?” He confirms, grinning when you nod shyly and wrap your arms around his neck, your legs rising to encircle his waist as he sinks back into you. He hopes you feel as held by him as he feels by you, the sheer comfort and safety of your body enough to make his eyes water this time.

He moves slowly, carefully, rocking in and out of you at a steady pace, never leaving you more than halfway before burying himself inside again. The brief pause did wonders for his self control, his release feeling far enough away that he thinks he really might be able to get you there once before he lets you pull him over the edge too.

Until you start kissing him, that is.

Once your lips meet his and your tongue slips into his mouth, every part of him is wrapped up in loving you. There’s not a single thing on his mind except for you, every thought dedicated to kissing you, fucking you, pleasing you, and it feels so goddamn right. Like this is what he was made for.

And fuck if that doesn’t have him closer than ever before, his cock pulsing and leaking into the condom, the latex probably the only thing keeping him from cumming right now. If he could feel you bare, it would be over for him, and as much as he wants to experience you without the barrier, he’s thankful for it.

His fingers settle back onto your clit and start to rub circles around it, his mouth catching the gasp you let out when his hips scoop on the next thrust in and drag the head of his cock against your g-spot.

He can’t hit it with every stroke, not when he wants to get as deep as possible, but combined with the work of his fingers, he can feel you getting closer each and every time he does graze the erogenous patch.

You stop kissing him to tilt your head back and let out a long, high-pitched whine, and he knows it’s almost time. He doesn’t change a thing, not when your nails dig into his shoulders, not when your hips buck into his, not even when your pussy starts to swallow around his cock. He just keeps his steady pace, continues to roll your clit beneath his fingers, and hopes, prays, wishes that pleasure will find you before it washes over him.

“Please, please, please baby, please fucking cum for me,” he begs, every muscle in his body tensing as he fights to hold off his own orgasm. It’s not in vain, thank fucking goodness, because you whimper brokenly as your pussy starts to undulate around him, growing tighter and tighter until he can’t move, can barely even breathe.

You’re cumming, fuck, you’re cumming, and so is he, the pulsating of your walls around him making him surge deep inside and stay there as he fills the condom with his cum, his cock jerking and jumping within you. It’s better than it ever has been, every thought in his head wiped out by pure fucking ecstasy and every muscle in his body tensing then relaxing as he succumbs to the urge to just melt into you and let two become one.

Minutes, or maybe hours, pass before he can pull himself away from you, but eventually you release your hold on him, your arms falling to rest beside your head and your legs gingerly returning to the mattress. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to not be inside of you, but the condom is starting to feel uncomfortable now that he’s softening, especially as full of cum as it is, so he holds the base of it as he withdraws himself from you.

You pout the whole time and he does too, but you say nothing as he gets off the bed to slip the condom off, tying the end in a knot before dropping it in the bin next to his desk.

Seungcheol doesn’t know why but he’s nervous to turn back around, to face you again. When he does, though, you just smile up at him sleepily and open your arms, waiting for him to find his place.

He grins softly and slides back into bed, laying on his back and gathering you up against his chest, humming contentedly when you snuggle into him, your leg tossed over his thigh and your arm wrapped around his waist.

“We should wash up, but I don’t want to move…” he murmurs, lifting his head just enough to press a kiss to your crown before letting it drop back down, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I have bad news,” you say quietly. His heart starts to race and his eyes fly open, his arms tightening around you like that’ll protect him from what you’re about to say.

“What is it?” He asks, hesitation clear in his voice.

“We forgot my stuff in your car,” you whisper nervously, as if that’s something he would actually get upset with you over.

He can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of him, tinged in both love and relief, though he does muffle it in your hair.

“That’s not so bad, baby. I’ll go get your water and bag, and you start the shower, okay?” he proposes, already planning to jog so he can make it back in time to rinse off with you.

“Okay,” you sigh happily, sitting up and rolling out of bed before prancing over to the ensuite, fully fucking naked.

Yeah, no way in hell is he staying on that goddamn couch tonight.

AN: what a fucking journey this was!! I’m so happy i kept yall updated through it because it was so nice to have you cheering me on and to know you were excited for it to come out 🥺 did i expect it to be three times as long as part one? no! are their feelings a bit dramatic? yes! is this fanfiction? yes, so i can make it as dramatic as i want! people get married after one month, they’re allowed to be in love after four! ps you don’t know how hard it was to keep more breeding kink from slipping into this like it’s borderline impossible for me to write seungcheol without breeding kink but i did my best and i did it for you

all i have left to say is this: you deserve someone who will love you like seungcheol loves reader! you deserve someone who will listen to you and respect you and do everything in their power to make you feel good! that’s what i, user sluttywoozi, wants for you! remember that the next time you think about settling for less than what you deserve!

Taglist: @so-da-1 @plskillme22 @nightshadeblooming @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @gyuguys @jennwonwoo @lelestarmy @disneyprincessshuri @alexbarberry @scoupsjin @sourkimchi @bangrauhl13 @meowmeowminnie @jungkooknippleanddicksucker @lukeys-giggle @polyglot-ton267 @bubbletroubble @bouclesdefeu @sunshinekyeom-sang @ujimatchaaa

2K notes · View notes

jji-lee · 2 months ago

Text

dreamies kinks .

(MDNI)

everything mentioned is consensual , unprotected sex (be smart) , everything is labelled before u read so be warned , idea by this lovely request !

❀༉‧₊˚. mark lee is needy all the time, all he every thinks about is fucking you

cock warming

the idea of just having you sit on his lap, cock buried deep inside you makes his head turn. only time during something sexual that mark will be calm. if he's stressed this is his go to. it's like meditating for him, feeling you pulse around him, warm and wet. by the end of it he'll have you face down ass up as he rams into you. "s' warm baby, sweet pussy hugging me so tight. feel good baby? feel me deep inside you?"

exhibitionism

the type where you fuck in places where you could possibly get caught. he doesn't care if you're at the mall or backstage of a concert, if he wants you he'll have you. gets turned on by the fact that someone (usually haechan) will walk in on you guys, fucks you harder so that your moans grow louder. it's his way of letting people know you're his. "shhh baby, wouldn't want someone to hear us right? wouldn't want everyone knowing how good i fuck you hm?"

recording

he will always take his phone out and start to record you. whenever he's on tour or just bored he'll open his hidden folder with all the pics and vids of you guys having sex. he might even use an audio of you moaning in one of his songs, if you let him ofc. "fuck baby, i wish you could see yourself right now, you look so hot, sound so pretty too, damn."

❀༉‧₊˚. huang renjun doesn't have sex he makes love, it's intimate and beautiful.

temperature play

whether it's wax or ice he gets turned on by seeing you squirm around from the feeling. sometimes he'll even blindfold you so you won't know what's coming. loves to hold the ice in his mouth as he traces it along your body. "like when i put ice here hm? look at how hard these pretty little nipples are baby."

marking

he always leaves marks on your body. it could be love bites on your chest, or slap marks on your ass. it's the possessive side of jun that can't help but see you painted in purple and pink. "fuck angel, you're all mine right? everyone's gonna know you're all mine."

bondage

hes the type to buy pretty ties and ropes to wrap you up in. will study kinbaku to do it with you. something about seeing you 100% vulnerable to him (and wrapped up with pretty rope) that makes him want to ravage you. "alright angel, put your hands behind your back, tell me if it's too tight okay?"

❀༉‧₊˚. lee jeno likes when you know he's in charge, sex with him is hot and rough

face fucking

loves to see you gag around him. he'll hold your head steady as he fucks himself into your mouth, barely letting you come up for air. "fuck, my pretty baby takes this cock so well. just a little bit more hm? you can do it baby."

breeding

this is a given tbh. the idea of getting you pregnant awakens the most possessive instinct in him. knowing that you trust him and only him to fill you up drives him crazy. "i'm the only one that can fill this pretty little pussy, right baby? only me."

size

another given. he alwaysss mentions how tiny you are compared to him during sex. makes you watch him as he fucks you, your tight cunt practically suffocating his cock. wraps his whole body around you, just to feel how much bigger he is than you. "fuck baby, this tight little pussy is squeezing me so good, barely fits baby, look."

❀༉‧₊˚. lee donghyuck doesn't want you to fuck him, he wants you to use him

breath play

he enjoys choking you but he loves when you choke him. your small hands wrapped around his neck as you ride him will actually drive him insane. his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open as he feels himself losing oxygen. will literally make him finish every time. just imagine him with an opened mouth smirk as you choke him since he can't speak without air LMAO

overstimulation

that slight pain he feels as you keep fucking him after he's finished makes his toes curl. he's begging you to stop but you know deep down he loves being overstimulated. no matter how much he squirms and tries to push you off, his whiny little moans speak for themselves. "shit, shit, shit, baby, fuck, too much, s' too much, please, i can't, fuck baby i'm, i'm, fuckkk."

degradation

hyucks a dirty perv and he knows it, thats why he thinks it's so hot when you call him names, make fun of him, maybe even slap him around. hearing you talk down to him, telling him that you're better than him will have him on his knees. "fuck yes, i'm your dirty baby, shit, i'm so pathetic baby, keep using me please that's all i'm good for."

❀༉‧₊˚. na jaemin thinks you're perfect, thats why in bed all he wants to do is ruin you

face fucking

jaemin can't get enough of your mouth. all he ever wants to do is fuck your mouth until your mascaras running and drool is spilling from the sides of your lips. he does it mainly for the view tbh. his pretty girl with her mouth full of cock, yes please. "there you go princess, just like that, keep those pretty eyes on me baby, wanna see you when i stuff your mouth full of cum."

clothed sex

he takes you shopping just so he can help you pick out a cute outfit to fuck you in. he loves pushing your soaked panties to the side just to slip himself in, grabbing onto your crumpled skirt as he takes you from behind, pulling your shirt up just enough to have your tits peeking out the bottom. "look so pretty in this little skirt baby, can practically see all your ass. s' easy for me to just- slip right in."

dacryphilia

seeing that you're literally crying, cause the sex is that good is the biggest ego boost for jaemin. it'll just push him to go harder, a choked sob leaving your mouth as he fucks you at an inhumane pace. "look at you baby, fuck you so good you're crying? daddy making you feel good, hm? use your words princess."

❀༉‧₊˚. zhong chenle is a brat especially during sex, he can't help but tease you

cock warming

this little shit does this just to see you squirming. he'll have the calmest demeanor, acting completely unaffected by the fact that his cock is stuffed inside you. he's dying to just flip you over and fuck you but he'll wait till you're practically in tears begging him to fuck you. "dirty girl, can feel your pussy throbbing. can't even stay still for 5 minutes? i have no choice but to punish you hm?"

edging

literally can go hours teasing you. he'll use his cock, fingers, mouth, even toys to bring you to your orgasm, just so that he can tell you to hold it in. by the end of the night you're crying begging for release, but he's waiting for the right moment, if it ever comes... "wanna cum baby hm? i know you do, just hold on a little bit more okay? you're doing so good for me, so good, love seeing you like this beautiful."

forced orgasm

same concept different outcome, your whining and screaming is like a drug to him. i 100% believe that chenle is a pro at making girls squirt (srry not srry) the scenes almost pornographic as he rubs your clit at an inhumane pace, other hand occupied as he stuffs you full with his finger. your legs are shaking, body moist with sweat as you cum for the 5th time that night. "it's okay mama, you're okay. feel good right? let's go for one more hm?

❀༉‧₊˚. park jisung is a shy freak, blushing as he's 8 inches deep

size

jisung is big, and he knows it. big nose, big hands, big dick. he loves grabbing your tits and ass, no matter how big they are his hands make them look tiny. and he loves easing his cock into you watching as you tiny cunt sucks him in, his mouth wide open, shocked that you can take him. "oh my- baby, taking me so well, you're doing so good for me baby, just a little bit more okay? you can take it."

praise

he needs validation. hearing you say he's doing good makes him want to work harder. even if he's at his limit he'll hold it in just to keep fucking you, his priority is to make you feel good, so he loves when you reassure him "is this okay? tell me i'm doing good baby, fuck, just wanna make you feel good."

role play

i know this little freak likes when you dress up. you'd surprise him with new outfits: a nurse, a teacher, and his favorite a secretary. it gives him an excuse to put on a tie and his new glasses, and maybe just maybe, he likes the fact that he gets to be your boss, hearing you call him sir might just be the highlight of his night. "so fucking dirty, love it when your boss fills you up hm? taking you here in my office where anyone can walk in? fuck, naughty girl."

me when i lose my mind:

1K notes · View notes

girliism · 4 months ago

Text

having art and patrick as your boy best friends.

you met them in kindergarten. the three of you sat at the same table with another boy. said other boy was writing bad words on your drawing when art and patrick sprayed glue all over him.

they had to sit out of recess watching the other kids play. you brought them both flowers as a thank you and ever since then the three of you were inseparable.

so inseparable that when third grade came around and patrick saw that the three of you weren’t in the same class he brought his parents up to the school and demanded that you all be in the same class every year. middle and high school were no different.

you loved them but hated the gross tendencies they came with. “you have to sit in between us so we don’t fight over who sits next to you.” art says. but you hate sitting in between them cause it ended up with you getting caught in their burping matches. “you guys are so gross.”

but art and patrick really did care for you. so much so that at 11 when you got your first period and ignored them for a week they made it their duty to learn all about menstruation.

you were at lunch eating with your girl friends when art places a drink in front of you. “it’s a green smoothie full of iron rich vegetables so you can replenish after losesing so much blood. my mom made it.” the blonde smiles at you very proud of himself but your faces heats up in embarrassment. “also you can get pregnant now so like don’t do that.” patrick adds quite loudly and everyone is looking at you and your other friends are snickering at the interaction. you wanted to die.

watching art and patrick go though growth spurts was actually terrifying. and not to mention they ate everything. “can we get five home style burger plates two for us and one for her. with oreo milkshakes. oh and apple pie” patrick orders. you watch as the both of them clear their plates with ease now deciding if you all should go for ice cream.

it was the summer before freshman year and you had spent most of it with your grandparents but you made in back in time for the zweig end of summer party. “guys! did you miss me” you pull them in for a hug before you walk ahead of them into the zweig house. the two of the watch you with confusion. when did you become a girl?

art and patrick never really saw you as “girlish” the way they saw other girls as girlish cause they’ve known you for so long. but something changed when you were at your grandparents house. you changed.

“dude you see that right.” patrick says. him and art watch you in the pool talking to your other friends. “she has boobs.” art groans at his friends perverted observation. “can you like not stare at her chest. that’s weird.” “what, all i’m saying is that she has boobs now guys like boobs. boobs and guys are no good match. horny assholes will try to get with her all year.” “can you stop saying boobs” art whispers “they’ll break her heart and get her pregnant. we have to protect her.” patrick says sternly.

the first two years of high school boys avoided you like the plague.

“do you guys think i’m ugly?” you blurt out one night the three of you laying on your bed watching juno. both of them sputter out a slue of what’s and why would you think that. “it’s just no one’s asked me to the formal. i’m literally the only person i know who doesn’t have a date.”

patrick looks at you before shrugging. “you can come with us duh. me and art will be your date we can make it a group thing.” art nods in agreement. this makes you feel worse. “i don’t want to be your guys pity date. plus your girlfriends hate me.” art sits up turning to you. “it’s not a pity date. formals are supposed to be about having fun with you friends. and our girlfriends don’t hate you.” oh but they totally did.

you end up going to formal with art, patrick and their girlfriends and have a surprisingly good time. the night is ending and patrick’s ditch the two of you so you and art sit on the empty football field just the two of you.

“so where’s your girlfriend?” you ask. “making out with the quarterback under the bleachers.” art sighs out looking up at the sky. you wince. “sorry” art mumbles out a whatever picking at the trimmed grass.

“her loss right.” you bump your shoulder with his. art scoffs “yeah, now at least she’ll have someone to grope her.” “wait wait is big shot tennis man too scared to grope his girlfriend.” art shoves you. “shut up ok, guys get nervous too.” humming you say. “if a guy so much as wanted to kiss me i’d just do it.” eyes looking up.

arts head snaps towards you. “have you never been kissed before?” you shake your head no. “but we’re almost juniors, how have you never been kissed?” “maybe because you and pat intimidate any guy that’s has interest in me. which is really fucking annoying by the way.” you huff. “sorry about that, pat just doesn’t want you to end up on teen mom.”

the two of you sit in silence for a while. “i could kiss you.” art says. you look over to him heart beat picking up. art is a good looking guy obviously, but he was your best friend. “wouldn’t that be weird?” you bite your lip out of nervousness. “doesn’t have to be.”

you get your first kiss that night. on the football field under the night sky. it was nice, art’s lips felt nice. moving slowly against yours his hand tenderly holding your cheek. you both break away from the kiss to breathe. “thanks” you whisper.

you guys never talk about what happened that night. not to patrick and not to each other. the same way you don’t talk about the kiss you and patrick share in his treehouse at his family’s goodbye summer party before junior year.

part two

#girliism #challengers #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #challengers au

734 notes · View notes

sanarsi · 4 months ago

Text

Everything we did that summer

step-uncle!no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You resisted getting close to Joel, afraid of what might happen then. Well, his affection for you destroyed everything you had worked for. Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (reader is in college, Joel is 56), STEP-UNCLE!Joel, unprotected PIV, fingering, pussy eating Wordcount: 3,6k An: Uncle Joel is my wet dream that I don't want to admit to. But I'm letting you feel the shame with me. Enjoy xx Music I worked with: Cry Baby - The Neighbourhood

Masterlist

"Stop being offended. We're only going for a few days. You can stand sitting on your ass by the ocean," your mother muttered. You rolled your eyes and focused on the view outside the window again. Sand and water. Nothing else. Why did he have to live in such a remote place?

"Honey, take it easy," Tommy said, placing his hand on his wife's thigh. The woman sighed loudly and fell back into her seat. "She will surely cheer up when she sees how nice it is there," he assured her. "Right, kid?" he asked, glancing at you in the mirror. As usual, smiling and full of positive energy. You had no idea where he got the strength from. Living with your mother was tiring.

"Yeah," you mumbled under your breath. That was enough to make your mother furious again.

"Why you don't like him actually?" she asked, gesturing too vigorously with her hands. Tommy fell silent, curious about the answer to that question himself. No one understood why you couldn't get along with your uncle from the very beginning. Step-uncle.

Well, the answer was simple.

Joel Miller was like forbidden fruit. Damn handsome and mysterious. Your wet dream.

That's why the first time you looked into his dark, piercing eyes and shook his big, rough hand, you decided you would never do it again. For your own safety.

"He's weird," you said, disgusted.

"Weird?" the woman repeated in an almost squeaky voice. You winced at the sound and clenched your jaw tighter, knowing you were treading on thin ice. "What do you mean he's weird?" You shrugged and glanced in the mirror, meeting Tommy's gaze. He smiled at you comfortingly, so whether you wanted to or not, you smiled back.

Tommy was okay. He was the only one who could keep your mother's temper in check. No small feat, so you were impressed.

"I don't know. He's just weird." You didn't want to go into details. You didn't want to talk about it. You felt ashamed of the way you thought about him. Ashamed that it was his name you whispered every time you touched yourself.

"Joel's a little isolated but he's a good man," Tommy said, glancing at your mother. "I'm sure you'll get along. A few days as a family never hurt anyone," he added, tightening his grip on his woman's thigh and glancing at you with a wink.

Oh if he knew how wrong he was.

From a distance you could see a small house right by the beach. It was nice. You yourself would like to live in a place like that. You didn't wonder why Joel decided to move here. Another thing that put you off him even more.

The car slowly stopped and your gaze immediately fell on the man who was standing in front of the house, frowning in the sunlight. Your heart sped up for a moment.

"You have to say hello. No discussion," your mother ordered, narrowing her eyes at you in warning. You didn't react, staring blindly at her. You probably didn't even understand what she was saying to you, but it was too late because she and Tommy left the car. You got out right after them and watched as Joel hugged your mother in greeting. Their words drowned out the waves crashing against the shore.

You put your hands in your jeans pockets and looked at your sneakers before taking one last deep breath and heading towards them. Your stomach tightened in a knot as you watched both brothers hug each other tightly with longing. Their laughter grew louder as you stopped a few meters away from them.

“Getting old?” Tommy asked teasingly. Joel rolled his eyes with an amused grimace.

“Gained weight?” he retorted. Your mother laughed as her husband pouted.

“I feed him well. He has a weakness for lasagna,” she said with a warm smile before placing a kiss on his cheek and he wrapped his arm around her waist. You felt nauseous at the sight of their happiness. But that was because Joel’s gaze fell on you as your parents whispered sweet nothings to each other.

“Hi kiddo,” he spoke first, coming closer. You swallowed the lump in your throat slowly and nodded.

“Hi,” you replied softly. You couldn’t help but turn into a good girl in his company. The dominance radiating from him made you simply submissive. You didn’t sit through it.

“They drag you out of the house?” he asked, glancing at your parents who were heading to the car to get your luggage.

“As you can see.” You tried to smile but it came out as a grimace.

“A few days without the internet will do you good.”

Oh god, why did parental comments sound like an invitation to go to bed with him. Fuck.

“But don’t worry, I won’t let you get bored,” he added with a wink and tapped you under the chin teasingly before he went to help with the luggage. You blinked a few times, blindly staring at the sand.

Oh shit.

The sun had almost set below the horizon as loud laughter echoed around. Everyone was sitting by the bonfire on the beach, drinking beer and eating far too greasy food. You didn't even listen to their tipsy conversations and just stared at the sea waves. The cool breeze and hot fire caressed your face, let your thoughts stop running for a moment.

Suddenly you heard a heavy groan so your gaze fell on Joel, who was just sitting down next to you.

"Fuck, I'm really getting old," he snorted under his breath shaking his head in disbelief. You noticed that your parents were on their way home.

"Where are they going?" you asked following them with your gaze until they disappeared behind the door.

"Your mom needs company to use the bathroom," he said and took a sip of beer. You watched as his Adam's apple moved with each swallow and a lonely drop ran from the corner of his mouth. Your mouth began to dry up admiring the view knowing that it would haunt you the next time you sank your fingers inside you.

“Want some?” he asked, holding the bottle out to you. You glanced at his hand that was wrapped around the glass. It could wrap around your neck as well. Fuck.

“Yeah, thanks,” you mumbled, taking the beer so as not to touch his fingers. You took a drink even though you hated beer. You grimaced at the bitter taste, to which Joel laughed under his breath.

"Still not drinking?" he asked, watching you with amusement as you handed him the beer.

"I had one for my twenty-first birthday. It’s enough for the rest of my life," you replied, glancing at him before you fixed your gaze on the fire. The burning fire was much better than the fire you felt inside you because of his gaze.

"That's good. Alcohol is shit," he nodded, then took another sip of beer. You rolled your eyes, smiling under your breath. "So what? College? Work?" he asked, trying to somehow break the silence between you.

You might not have liked him, but he never noticed that. You were always just... quiet. Shy around him. He assumed it was normal because you hadn't been a family forever.

"Both," you nodded, shrugging.

"Well, look at you. You've grown into a resourceful young woman," he elbowed you teasingly in the side. You couldn't stop your growing smile as you glanced at him again.

"I don't want to be a burden to them. They're sick of me already." You smiled, but not with your eyes. Joel grimaced at that.

"Oh, come on. They definitely can't get enough of you." He tried to comfort you because he didn't want to see you sad during the few days you were at his place.

"They almost had a fight because of me before we came here. Believe me, they're sick of me," you laughed under your breath. Joel watched in silence as you stared into the fire, your forced smile slowly disappearing.

“But it’s all good now. They laugh like children and I have a feeling I’ll have to wear earplugs at night,” he said with a smirk. You looked at him, grimacing in disgust.

“Ew,” you groaned and laughed. It immediately felt better.

Joel had a fatherly instinct that was still there, even though Sarah was already an adult and had her own family. Seeing you smile filled him with a fulfillment he couldn’t explain or fight.

“Grown-ups have to fight sometimes. Otherwise, they’d kill each other in their sleep.”

You snorted at his humorless words. You were the only reason they wanted to kill each other so his words didn't work as a comfort. But at least he tried. And that was enough to make you feel even worse about the place he occupied in your thoughts. You hated him and yourself even more.

"And you?"

"What about me?" you asked indifferently.

"You have someone to fight with too?" he asked gently. You blinked a few times before looking at him like he was an idiot. Joel snorted quietly seeing the answer on your face. "Okay, I understand," he nodded amused raising his hands in surrender.

There was silence for a moment.

"So is it a girl or a boy?"

"Oh my god," you groaned miserably and hid your face in your hands feeling your face starting to burn with embarrassment.

"What? I'll support you in every decision," he started explaining with a wide smile.

"No and no," you replied looking at him. “People my type don’t pay attention to me,” you blurted out thoughtlessly. You wanted to punch yourself in the face when you saw the interest in his eyes. Idiot.

“Don’t exaggerate. You’re pretty, funny, and intelligent. Most people would look at you on the street.”

“But not older men.”

“Especially older men,” he corrected you seriously. Silence fell as you stared at each other. Joel had already had a few beers, so his eyes sparkled more than usual and you were still overwhelmed by everything girl. He didn’t move, staring into your eyes as if he was frozen. Every muscle in your body tensed painfully. He didn’t say anything, so you didn’t either. So why-

And then his gaze fell on your lips.

For a split second, before you heard your mother’s laughter and his gaze immediately pierced the fire. Your heart pounded in your chest like a bell until the very end.

And even lying on the couch in his living room, you couldn't get it out of your head when his gaze went down.

The next day you decided to cut yourself off. You had been lying on the beach since morning, sunbathing and listening to music. No one dared to disturb you.

No one except Joel.

His shadow blocked the sun from your view, making you wince. You took off your sunglasses and took your headphones out of your ears when he started talking to you. You mumbled questioningly, to which he rolled his eyes.

"Tommy and your mother went to the store," he announced. You frowned.

"And?" you mumbled further, not knowing why he had come to you.

"Want to see something?" he asked with a smile. You looked at him uncertainly and was about to refuse when he interrupted you. "You'll like it."

And that was enough.

A few minutes of walking on the beach in his company was quite a challenge for you. The only thing you could do with your hands were the ribbons on your swimsuit panties. Even his questions couldn't distract you from how good he looked in a loose shirt and shorts.

It was a crime to look so good at his age.

"Here." His voice tore you out of your thoughts. You looked around seeing only a mountain of sand in front of you. You looked at him and he was already nodding in the direction you were supposed to go. So you did. And he was walking right behind you.

And no one knew that his gaze was scanning your half naked body for a moment.

You slowly entered a large sea cave. You looked around in shock. The water reflected the sun's rays on the stone ceiling, making everything look more magical. You smiled widely and glanced at Joel who was watching you with satisfaction.

"I told you you'll like it," he said proudly.

"This is amazing." You started walking around and looking at everything. The most important thing immediately popped into your head. "Do you have a phone?" you asked, glancing at it.

"Yeah, why?" he asked, leaning against the stone wall.

"You'll do a photoshoot for me. I need something for Instagram." Joel blinked a few times, not even knowing what to answer.

"For what?" he frowned, confused, but obediently took his phone out of his pocket. You sighed and waved your hand dismissively.

"Some kind of app," you said indifferently because he wouldn't understand anyway. He raised a suspicious eyebrow, glancing from you to the camera on his phone.

"But not for money?" he asked uncertainly.

"Joel! No!" you said, outraged that something like that could have even crossed his mind. A sigh of relief left his lungs before he nodded.

For the next half hour, you posed like models from magazine covers. The sand stuck to your skin and the water had long since soaked your hair. But Joel took it to heart to be your photographer.

"Chin a little higher," he said, looking at the phone screen. You smiled wider and did as he told you. "Beautiful," he muttered under his breath, taking a few photos.

"I don't know how models can do that all day," you groaned in pain and shifted on the rock you were currently lying on.

"We can finish now. I think I took so many photos that you won't be able to look through them by the evening," he said, amused.

"A few more and we can go," you nodded.

"Then you'll have to try a little longer." You laughed and changed positions. You sighed, taking the final pose and looked in his direction.

A few more photos went into the gallery.

"Yeah, let me just..." he mumbled and approached you. His fingers carefully gathered your hair that had stuck to your face. His heated fingers ran over your cold skin, causing a shock effect. "That's better," he smiled warmly, so despite the urge to throw up your breakfast, you smiled back.

He stepped back again, taking a few photos. He looked at the phone screen and was silent for a moment.

"Okay, I have an idea," he said and approached you again. "Lean back, resting on your hands," he explained, so under his watchful eye, you endured what he ordered. He placed his hands on your shoulders, gently squeezing his fingers to adjust their position. You watched him with a lump in your throat.

He was too close.

"Hip a little forward."

Without waiting for your reaction, he grabbed your hips and gently moved them towards him. You barely held back a moan when he touched you like that. Your heart was pounding in your chest like crazy.

"And your legs."

He ran his hands over your thighs, but your quiet moan made him freeze. You felt fear wash over your body as he fell silent, staring at the spot where his hands touched your skin. You breathed heavily, trying to control your body's reaction to his proximity. But you couldn't.

His gaze slowly traveled over your body to your eyes, which were filled with fear mixed with something else.

And Joel knew very well what it was.

Even though no one had looked at him like that for a long time, he hadn’t forgotten what desire was.

And he should… He should have been the first to think of the fact that he was your uncle and was touching you inappropriately. But he couldn't.

He couldn't stop the blood from flowing to his cock and his hands from going up on their own. You parted your lips, panting heavily when his hands were on your hips again, squeezing them almost painfully.

"Don't look at me like that," he almost growled through his tightly clenched jaw. Shivers ran through you.

"I can't, I'm sorry," you said tearfully. You felt terrible about how helpless you were in his presence. And he felt even worse when he realized how much he wanted to take advantage of it.

“You don’t want this, baby girl.” He tried to hold on to the last bit of his brain that was thinking correctly.

You could barely catch your breath as you straightened up, nodding like you were drunk. “But I do,” you said, grimacing in helplessness.

Joel growled under his breath before you both met your lips in a split second. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, moaning into his mouth as his tongue immediately found yours. His arms wrapped tightly around you, pulling you closer to him until he was perfectly positioned between your thighs.

Soft moans escaped your lips at the desire you had never felt before. Each of his rough kisses ignited a bigger fire inside you. You moaned as if he was at least bringing you to orgasm with just his kisses.

“Jesus, fuck,” he growled feeling his cock harden painfully from the sounds that left your lips. He wasted no time and his fingers quickly pushed the material of your panties to the side, running two fingers over your wet slit. A growl of pleasure mixed with your squeal as he lowered his fingers inside you.

“Oh god,” you gasped unable to catch your breath as his fingers began to fuck you, hitting your weak spot every time. Your loud moans echoed off the walls of the cave as you fell back against the stone.

Joel looked down at your pussy from which juices were dripping down his hand. He didn’t hesitate for a moment to taste you.

He bent down and greeted your clit with a deep kiss. You tensed up, arching as you came as if by magic.

Joel purred contentedly as your orgasm began to trickle down his hand. But he didn't pull away from you for even a moment, because he had just started playing with you.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling hard as you began to thrust your hips in rhythm with his movements. His fingers sped up a bit as he began to circle your clit with his tongue, leading you straight to another orgasm. And all he had to do was curl his fingers inside you and you began to tremble under his mouth as you came again.

"What a good girl," he mumbled into your pussy before pulling away.

The oxygen finally reached your lungs but Joel quickly deprived you of it. You lifted your head to watch as he ran his cock along the length of your wet slit.

He watched everything hypnotized as he slowly dipped the tip into you. That was enough for your eyes to roll back and your head to fall back against the rock. He pulled his hips back and entered you a little deeper again. And so several times until you were perfectly prepared for his thickness.

You could barely moan when you felt how perfectly he filled you. Just like you always thought. Just like he always did in your wet dreams.

He began to move his hips sensually, watching in delight as your pussy tightly embraced him.

"This sweet little pussy is leaking like she’s never had a cock inside of her," he groaned as you clenched around him. You cried out feeling like you were on the edge of a cliff with his slow and deep strokes. Perfect to bring you to the edge of another orgasm.

“Your cock,” you gasped in response. That was when his gaze dared to move to your face for the first time, lost in pleasure. You looked like his most beautiful sin. And he couldn’t help but speed up his thrusting into you just to see you trying to catch your breath.

The sight made his cock quiver deep inside you. Now he couldn't tear his eyes away from your face. He thrust harder and faster feeling himself hardening with every movement in your tight pussy. And when you came with a scream, he didn't stop.

He panted heavily pushing his cock into you until all you saw were stars. He growled digging his fingers into your skin to hold you in place when you tried to pull away the moment his orgasm knocked on the door.

He groaned as if he was experiencing fucking ecstasy and cummed deep inside you. He bent down resting his cheek on your breast and panted heavily listening to the rapid beating of your heart.

"Fuck," he gasped heavily and slowly pulled out of you causing you to moan. He allowed himself a moment of rest because at his age such an effort was quite a challenge.

He groaned straightening up finally and looked down at the work he had done. He reached for his phone and aimed the camera at you. The sound of a picture being taken echoed through the cave.

“Yes, it was my idea,” he smiled proudly and you just snorted helplessly.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #sanarsi fic

636 notes · View notes

simpxxstan · 5 months ago

Text

best friend's older brother seungcheol

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the members' headcanons in the event too as i post them through this month!

no warnings: just fluff.

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who isn't even attractive to you for most of your life

seungcheol, attractive? hell no. you don't understand why every girl in your class drools over him. they ask you for his number, for tips to ask him out, for favours to set them up with him, and you oblige, because you don't get the hype but you don't care about protecting cheol from these girls.

and it doesn't seem that cheol minds either. at each of your birthday parties, you don't even call half the people who turn up, because they just want to ogle seungcheol. and seungcheol even lets them.

you don't care because you just want to spend time with his sister, who's your bestest friend, and it's a small price to pay for her treasured company. and you don't really mind seungcheol's company too, occasionally. although he pouts too much whenever the three of you don't play the game he wants to play.

you don't know how to define your relation with him. he's been everything you had missed in being a single child. teaching you to drive even when your hand-eye coordination sucks. helping you with your precalculus exam even when his own geography exam is the next morning. rescuing you from dumb teens who'd tried to spike your drinks.

but he's not really a brother. you know that more as you grow up when you stop seeing him as just your best friend's older brother, but also as a specimen of the opposite sex. the way his voice becomes deeper, his hair falls longer to the nape of his neck, the way he can no longer fit into the makeshift tent in your room when the three of you play UNO.

and yet, you can't imagine any romantic notion cropping up in your mind with regards to him.

that one time someone asked if you ever had a crush on seungcheol, and you'd laughed straight in their face. crush? on seungcheol? ridiculous, absurd, preposterous. you tell seungcheol the same the next time you see him, and he laughs with you too. see? no scene of romance.

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who is head over heels in love with you

has been so for the last four years, when he's seen you really grow up into a remarkable woman.

the two of you are just two years apart, so he sees you hitting puberty mere months after him. and boy, he's down bad since that day.

he's not been able to maintain any relationship with anyone he dates simply because he always finds flaws in them that aren't in you. can't bake? too bad, you can. can't sing idol songs? too bad, you know every idol song's lyrics and choreography. can't keep a seat for him during lunch? too bad, you never forget. don't know his favourite ice cream flavour? too bad, you know every ice cream flavour he has liked since he was ten years old. have clear skin? too bad, he would choose your shiny, oily skin any day. wear skirts? too bad, he prefers your baggy jeans because you have pockets to store candies in.

and yet he knows that you don't think of him like that. it doesn't particularly bother him, because he doesn't need you to love him for him to love you.

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who gets the news of you going abroad for college from his sister, not from you directly

"you didn't even bother to tell me." he says, after almost an hour of you coaxing him to tell you why he's pouty and upset.

"i would tell you, eventually, i would." "and when will eventually come around?" you don't answer, just hug him from the side and press your face to his shoulder. he's gotten remarkably broad in the last few years, perhaps to fit in with his jock image. but his body still feels as soft to you as it did earlier as well, whenever you had hugged him.

"you'll call me?" he says after a long time. "of course." "when will you leave? in august?" "yeah, so i'm still here for a couple more months. this entire summer, i can chill finally." you smile, but he doesn't. his eyes lock onto yours, and your face burns up with the attention he's giving you, although you don't want to look away.

"two more months." without any clue of what's going on in his head, you shoot him a confused glare. "yeah, two months. two months are a long time." "not really. but they're enough." "enough?" cheol doesn't reply. he doesn't need to. actions always prove louder than words.

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who now spends more time with you than ever

he's not even being subtle about it. he totally stops going out for parties and random date nights, in favour of spending every evening with you. your best friend is busy with her boyfriend, who's also pining because she's leaving too with you, so cheol has you completely to himself.

together, the two of you explore every nook and cranny of the city you were born in. cheol is surprised at how little you know about your own city, and you're shocked at how much he knows. "you gangster. how are you so familiar with these parts of the town?" you blush as he drives you thru the red light district of the city, clutching him tight as you sit behind him on his motorbike. "i've spent many a happy evening in these lanes, sweetheart." "do you want to drop me off and enjoy here then? i can take the bus home." he grabs your hands which are wrapped around his shoulders and pulls you closer to him. "don't say stuff you don't really mean, sweetheart."

sweetheart. that's a new nickname, but he's using it ever so often these days. he checked your reaction the first time he used it, and while your eyes had grown wide in mild shock, you'd not really protested against him. and he knows you've never not loudly protested against something you don't like. so he knows pretty well you don't mind the nickname. and if the way you're wearing the same lipgloss and the same pair of jeans every day ever since he complimented it once is anything to go by then you like the nickname too.

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who you're touching a little more as each day passes by

you don't know when it starts to happen, but you rather start to looking forward to seeing him every damn day.

you hope he doesn't realise why you keep wearing the same lipgloss every day. you hope he doesn't realise why you suddenly enjoy riding his motorcycle with him. you hope he doesn't realise that you no longer argue with him when he insists on taking you to places he's more familiar with.

and you certainly hope he doesn't ask why. because to be honest, you don't know if you could answer it yourself. why do you want him to look at you more? why do you want to touch the muscles on his back through his white t-shirts? why do you let him beat you in every arcade game as long as it means that he celebrates his victory by hugging you?

perhaps because when you try to think of your life without seungcheol, you come up with a blank. you simply cannot imagine a life where he’s not a part of it. a life without him at your birthdays and new year parties? a life without him on your emergency dial? a life without him being your go-to person for any excuse you want to whip up to get out of a situation? a life without your #1 supporter no matter what you’ve done? you can’t imagine it at all.

and this realisation makes you think again on what your relationship with seungcheol really is.

thinking about best friend's older brother!seungcheol who brings you to the beach the day before his birthday

it’s also your last week in this country. the two of you spend the entire day wandering through street stalls that are set up next to the beach. you buy him a seashell locket that he promptly wears around his neck. he buys you as many glasses of boba tea as you like, which turns out to be nearly every flavour sold at the stall.

when night comes, the two of you lie down in the rocky sand along the beach, slightly isolated from the rest of the crowds, and giggle to your own inside jokes while embracing the scent of the sea breeze mingled with the cool night air.

the clock strikes midnight in the distance, and you whisper in seungcheol’s ears, “happy birthday, cheol-ah.” he laughs softly, his voice hoarse after all the talking of the day. “you’re the first to wish me.” “like always, isn’t it?” you turn on your side to face the man, his arm outstretched and your head lying on his arm, barely touching and yet so, so close. “i’ll always be the first to wish you, cheol-ah. even with a time zone difference.” you almost laugh when you see the way his lips go from a smile to a pout, sadness spreading across his features. “i’ll miss you, sweetheart.” he turns to face you too, his bicep flexing under your cheeks as the two of you face each other and breathe in the same air. under the moonlight, his sharp features look soft, his eyebrows hidden under his bangs.

“can i ask you something?” seungcheol hums, his pout deepening. the impulse burns through your veins. something about how much closer you’ve grown over the last few weeks makes you feel braver. “can i kiss you, seungcheol?” the man in front of you smirks, “i thought you would never ask.”

his lips meet yours halfway and take away any ounce of hesitation from your mind. the first kiss is short, but when you pull away to take a breath, he leans in further, his body coming slightly above you as he tucks you into his arm and deepens the kiss. his other hand cupping your cheeks.

“is this my birthday present?” seungcheol asks you from above you, breathless. you giggle, shy from the proximity. “if you want. did you like it?” “like? fucking loved it, sweetheart. best birthday present ever.”

#simpxxstan #simpxxstan's 550 followers celebration event #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt #svt x reader #seventeen x you #svt fluff #seungcheol headcanons #svt headcanons #svt scoups #choi seungcheol #scoups

788 notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 4 months ago

Text

— Synopsis: As Jihoon lets Beep Boop keep you company while he works. In a genuine moment, you reveal your growing feelings for Jihoon to Beep Boop, unaware that he had already arrived home and overheard your heartfelt confession on his computer—thanks to Beep Boop's recording, which captured everything throughout the day. — WC: 6.3k — WARNINGS: Recollection, smut, oral (m. receiving), masturbation (both receiving), cock riding, clit stimulation, edging, dirty talk, slight bondage? (you pin jihoon's arms up with your hands), mentions of soft cock. [Issue Club Serie] — This is a part 2 of Shy!Woozi. Check the Part 1

You've discovered that Jihoon only needed a little push. Whenever conversations seemed to subside, you attempted to lead them into unfamiliar waters, always careful to keep things comfortable for him. It was all about balance, really.

Like that time you noticed him getting a bit quiet, and you casually asked about his computer's brand and what he thought was the best for working with music. His eyes lit up, and suddenly he had a full article ready in his head.

And even though it wasn't exactly your cup of tea, you found yourself genuinely engaged by the passion in his voice. Making Jihoon feel appreciated and comfortable was a priority, and seeing him relax around you was priceless.

He started reciprocating in his own way, paying attention to the little things that made you happy.

One day, he noticed the tiny glitters you applied to the corners of your eyes. He seemed enchanted by how they sparkled every time you moved. He shyly asked how you did that, and before long, he was sitting on your bed as you showed him every type, color, and format of glitter you had in your vanity, all enthusiastic about it.

You demonstrated by smudging some on his forearm, showing how it looked on skin. Jihoon might not have been overly fascinated by makeup, but the feeling of your fingers on his arm made it all worth it for him.

Jihoon was incredibly observant. He noticed how much you liked those glitters, and one day, sent Beep Boop to your door. When you opened it, the robot held a cute bag.

“What is it this time, Beep Boop?” you asked, smiling.

“Glitter,” the robot replied in its robotic voice.

You jumped in front of Beep Boop, eyes wide with excitement. “No way! Jihoon, you’re the best!” You hugged the robot, causing Jihoon to laugh sincerely in his bedroom as he controlled the robot.

Another memorable moment was when Jihoon came back from the supermarket. As he walked past your window, he saw you curled up under the covers with a bowl of ice cream, watching what looked like a romantic movie.

It suddenly clicked in his mind that it was Valentine's Day. He wasn’t quite ready to give you something in person, but he still wanted to make the day special for you. He sent Beep Boop again, this time carrying a bouquet and a heart-shaped box of chocolates.

You remembered how it felt to open the door to Beep Boop on Valentine’s Day. The sight of the bouquet and the chocolates made your heart flutter. You knew it was Jihoon's way of reaching out, and it meant the world to you.

“Beep Boop, are these from Jihoon?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

“Yes,” the robot replied.

You grinned widely. “Tell Jihoon thank you. This is so sweet.”

Beep Boop gave a little nod before rolling away, and you closed the door, clutching the bouquet and chocolates to your chest.

There was that one embarrassing time when your period came unexpectedly and you realized you were out of tampons and pads. You couldn't leave home, and your friends were unavailable. Feeling desperate, you messaged Jihoon, asking if he could send Beep Boop to your door. He complied immediately.

Even though you were just asking a robot, you felt shy when Beep Boop appeared at your door. Opening it slowly, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

“Do you need help?” Beep Boop asked, its robotic voice echoing in the hallway.

Taking a deep breath, you whispered, “Can you buy me some pads? I’ll pay you back later.”

There was a brief silence as Jihoon, back in his room, tried to figure out which brand to get. Then, the screen on Beep Boop's face displayed several options. You blushed, covering your mouth with your hand as you clicked on the brand you usually buy.

A smiley face appeared on Beep Boop’s screen. “Don’t worry about it. It’s normal for people of the female gender.”

You chuckled at the awkward phrasing, realizing it was probably a default response from the pad's search. Jihoon must have clicked the wrong button. You could just imagine him, hand clapped to his forehead, before heading to the convenience store to get what you needed.

A while later, you heard a knock on your door. Opening it, you found Jihoon standing there with a plastic bag containing several packs of pads. Your face turned red, feeling mortified.

“I thought Beep Boop was going to bring them,” you mumbled through your fingers.

Jihoon chuckled, handing you the bag. “Yeah, he gave me some problems earlier. Sorry about that.”

You laughed, recalling the robot’s awkward “impact phrase.” It eased your shyness a bit. “Thank you so much, Jihoon. How much was it?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “You don’t have to pay me back. It was nothing.”

As he turned to leave, Jihoon pretended not to notice the small stain on your shorts, sparing you further embarrassment.

[...]

Today was your first day of vacation, and you were excited to spend it relaxing. You decided to message Jihoon to see if he wanted to come over to your house.

"Hey Jihoon! It's my first day of vacation. Do you want to come over today?"

A few moments later, his reply came. "Hey! I'd love to, but I have to go to my job in person today."

You frowned at the message, feeling a bit disappointed. But then, another message popped up. "Do you want Beep Boop to spend the day with you instead?"

You thought about it sincerely, glancing at the cold windows outside. Staying indoors seemed like the perfect plan for such a gloomy day. "Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks, Jihoon."

“Awesome! I’ll set him up before I leave. I’ve made some upgrades to Beep Boop, so you can talk with him. I can't answer you while I'm at work, but Beep Boop can keep you company. And I'll join you when I get home."

You smiled, feeling a bit better. “Thanks, Jihoon. Have a good day at work!”

“You too! Beep Boop will be there soon.”

True to his word, Jihoon made some last-minute touches, so you could have actual conversations with him throughout the day.

He even left the camera on all day, so he could watch what you did, planning to watch you later.

As the hours passed, you found yourself enjoying the company of Beep Boop. The robot helped you cook by spelling out the recipe, and you laughed as it walked around your house, its mechanical movements strangely adorable.

You even asked for its opinion on the best glitter color to apply to your eyes, and Beep Boop responded with a surprisingly insightful answer.

You smiled, applying the suggested glitter before turning on Netflix. You and Beep Boop searched for a movie, finally settling on a romantic comedy. The robot even offered commentary during the film, making you laugh with its robotic take on human emotions.

After the movie ended, you found yourself talking to Beep Boop about your life. It was oddly therapeutic, even though you knew it couldn't truly understand.

“Beep Boop,” you called.

“Yes?” the robot answered promptly.

You hesitated, not sure how to begin. “So, there's someone I’ve been thinking about a lot lately…”

“I see. It sounds like this person is important to you.”

You sighed. “Well, he’s really kind and thoughtful. Like, he does all these little things for me that make me feel special. But I’m not sure if it’s because he likes me or if he’s just being nice.”

“Have you considered talking to him about your feelings?”

“I have, but I’m scared. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

The robot tilted its head slightly, a gesture Jihoon must have programmed. "It is normal to be afraid of rejection. But sometimes taking that risk is the only way to be certain."

You bit your lip, pondering Beep Boop’s words. “What if I’m... What if I’m liking Jihoon?” you finally blurted out your feelings about Beep Boop's creator.

"He has shown that he cares about you. It's possible that he may feel the same way."

You chuckled, finding the robot's advice strangely comforting. "What if I'm liking Jihoon more than just a friend?"

There was a pause, and you started to notice that Beep Boop's responses wavered.

"What if Jihoon feels the same way about you?"

You blinked, realizing something was different. The tone was...off. You felt a sudden apprehension.

Jihoon, who had just arrived home and was heading to his bedroom to shower, paused when he heard the conversation through his computer. He listened intently as you poured out your heart to Beep Boop.

The robot turned to you, its camera focusing on your face; You were glowing from the light of your television, your finger parting your lips slightly. Jihoon was looking at your mirrored image on his computer's screen.

You frowned, looking at the robot. “Jihoon?”

“Yes, it’s me,” Jihoon replied, his voice now, clear. “I’m home.”

You froze, realizing that Jihoon had been listening. "Oh my god, Jihoon. I...I didn't mean for you to hear all that."

Jihoon, now visible on the robot's screen, looked timid but sincere.

"Since the day you moved into the neighborhood, I couldn't stop thinking about you. You were this amazing person right next door, but… I couldn't bring myself to come down and talk to you directly."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to his confession.

Jihoon continued, "Beep Boop was the only way I could be around you all the time without freaking out. But I think it's time I stop hiding behind a robot."

You were speechless for a moment, processing his words.

"Jihoon, I honestly had no idea. I thought you saw me as a neighbor or a friend."

He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile.

"You've been more than that to me. You made me feel admired and comfortable, even with my awkwardness. I realized I needed to take a chance and tell you how I feel." Jihoon pauses before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I’ll be there in a minute, okay?”

Beep Boop’s face, for the first time, turned off in front of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for Jihoon’s arrival.

You heard the knock on your door, and every step you took felt slower, heavier with expectation.

When you opened the door, Jihoon didn’t wait before pulling you into a hug. He wasn’t usually a big fan of hugs, but he needed this one, and maybe it was a way to hide his red face against your neck. He smelled like he had just left the bath, a mix of fresh soap and something uniquely Jihoon.

You pulled him inside, your hands roaming his back, feeling the tension and relief in his muscles. You giggled softly, breaking the silence. “I know you’re hiding your face.”

He chuckled, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m too red right now to face you.”

You pouted, resting your chin on his shoulder. “But I want to kiss you…”

Jihoon’s body tensed for a moment before he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His face was indeed flushed, but there was a smile playing on his lips. “You do?”

You nodded, your own cheeks heating up. “Yes. I’ve been wanting to for a while now.”

His eyes softened, and he reached up to gently cup your face. “Then kiss me.”

You leaned in, closing the small distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss. It was sweet and gentle, yet filled with the assumed emotions you both had been carrying. Jihoon’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss just a bit more.

The moment you both paused to catch your breath, it felt like a magnetic pull drawing you back together. You couldn’t stop kissing Jihoon, pushing him step by step until he rested against the sideboard. His kisses broke into a chuckle as he felt your desperate kisses on his smile.

"Sorry," you mumbled, cheeks flushed. Your hands slid from him, falling to your sides as you took a step back. The smile never left your lips; you were so happy to kiss his rosy lips.

Jihoon, ever the observant one, had noticed your hesitations, the way you always took a step back, afraid to rush him. But what you didn’t realize was that he wanted you to rush him. He wanted you to hug him until he was breathless, to touch his hair like you always complimented it. He didn’t want you to hold back—he wanted you to step further.

Seeing you hold back again, he touched your hand, pulling you against his chest. "Don’t hold back anymore," he murmured against your lips. Your breath trembled at his words, like receiving a long-awaited answer.

"But I don’t want to push you too far," you protested, unsure of the right words.

Jihoon held your face, making you look at him. "I’m being honest. I won’t break if you do." His hands slid to your waist, squeezing gently. You gasped against his lips, and he stole a quick peck.

You were already overwhelmed, his warm hands heating your belly skin through your top, his unwavering eyes fixed on you, his voice so sure of what he wanted. "Are you really letting me do whatever I want?"

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. "What do you want to do?"

Closing your eyes, you felt the words on your tongue but struggled to speak. Gathering all the courage in the world, Jihoon kissed a single peck on your neck to gauge your reaction, holding back a smile as you melted against him.

"I want you," you finally whispered. His touch makes the words roll off your mouth.

"Then take me," he whispered back, his tone a raspy plea.

You gather Jihoon's long hair from the nape of his neck, pulling gently before kissing him again. Incredibly, he loosens up too, sucking your tongue and pulling you closer to his body. The bulge pressing against your sex through his shorts makes your heart race, the proof of his lust melting you from the inside out.

Jihoon flinches slightly when your hand slides to the hem of his shirt, guiding him toward your bedroom, your fingers brushing against his lower abdomen. As you bite his earlobe upon reaching the bedroom, your hands slide inside his shirt, moving up and down, feeling his waist.

His smooth skin turns into a sea of shivers, his body hair bristles under your touch, and a shy moan escapes his mouth involuntarily. You realize that the thing you love the most isn't glitters or romantic movies anymore—it's the way Jihoon moans at your slightest touch.

You grasp the hem of his shirt, pushing it up. Jihoon helps you remove the clothing, and you have to remind yourself to close your mouth before you drool. Under his oversized clothing, you never expected such a defined body—a full six-pack, strong arms, and a chiseled chest.

Your eyes trace every line from his abdomen to his chest, down to the veins on his arms, and that single vein that disappears into his shorts.

“Jihoon,” you whisper, as your hand slides over his torso.

He shivers, his breath hitching. “Y-yes?”

“You’re so fucking hot,” you murmur, your hand moving up to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. “Did you know that?”

His cheeks turn a deep shade of red, his eyes incompetent to meet yours. “I, uh, I didn’t…”

You smirk, your fingers tracing the line of his hip. “You’re so shy, Jihoon,” you tease gently, your hand sliding lower, to the waistband of his shorts. “But you don’t have to be with me.”

His breath hitches again, and he stutters, “I know that, I’m just… not used to this.”

You smile, your lips brushing against his collarbone. “Then let me help you get used to it.”

Your hand slides into his shorts, feeling the hard length of his cock. Jihoon gasps, his hips bucking slightly into your touch. You look up at him, his face flushed, his eyes half-closed in pleasure.

“Do you like this?” you ask softly, your fingers wrapping around him.

He nods, his voice a shaky whisper. “Yes… a lot.”

You move your hand slowly, eliciting a low moan from him. “Good,” you whisper, your lips finding his again. “I want to make you feel good, Jihoon.”

His hands grasp at your hips, pulling you closer. “H-hm, you already do,” he murmurs against your lips.

You can't help but chuckle, teasingly saying, "Already so worked up, Jihoonie?"

With your free hand, you tug down his shorts and underwear, letting them fall to the floor. You push him onto the bed, and he props himself up on his elbows, his eyes fixed on you. Slowly, you pull off your top, followed by your shorts and panties, never breaking eye contact.

“Shit...” Jihoon breathes out, his eyes raking over your body as you straddle him. He looks almost dazed, knowing full well he won’t last long once you start.

You can see the precum glistening at the tip of his cock. Smiling, you circle the head with your wet palm before sliding down his length, his abdomen trembling in response. Jihoon covers his eyes with his arm, his body reacting to your touch in a way that makes you feel powerful.

"Look at you," you mewl, observing how his cock turns red from the friction. But your gaze travels upward, noticing his flushed skin spreading from his shoulders to his nipples, neck, and cheeks. He’s absolutely breathtaking like this.

Taking advantage of Jihoon’s covered eyes, you lean down, enveloping his cock with your hot mouth in a single quick move. He gasps, his eyes flying open to see if it’s real. He clutches the duvet tightly, his knuckles white with the power of his grip. You can taste the salty precum on your tongue, that doesnt stop flowing, a sign that you’re doing something right.

Jihoon’s breath comes in ragged gasps as you bob your head, the slick suction sounds filling the room. “Just like that,” he moans, his voice strained.

You hum around him, sending vibrations through his length. His hips jerk involuntarily, pushing deeper into your mouth. You can feel him getting closer, his cock pulsing with need. You pull back slightly, just enough to tease him with your tongue, tracing patterns on the sensitive tip.

He whimpers, his eyes half-lidded with lust. “Please,” he begs, making you fold at his desperate tone.

You give him a wicked smile before taking him deep again, your tongue working in tandem with your hand. Jihoon’s moans grow louder, his body tensing as he approaches the edge. You can feel the heat building inside him, his release is imminent.

Jihoon’s elbows start to lose strength, but he manages to slide a hand to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. You smile around his cock before taking a deep breath, relaxing your jaw, and taking him deep into your throat.

You hold him there for a few seconds before pulling back up to the tip, gagging slightly.

His body shudders, and he collapses onto his back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Are you okay?”

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile as you slurp at his tip, your hands gently rolling his balls. His jaw dropped, and his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. You can sense his orgasm building, his body trembling under you.

But just as he’s about to tip over the edge, you pull your mouth away, teasingly licking the length of his cock but never fully touching it. Jihoon whimpers, his voice strained with desperation. “No… please…” he moans, his hips bucking slightly, seeking your touch.

You smirk, watching him struggle to control his sanity. “Do you want more, Jihoon?” you ask slyly.

His voice just seems to stay in his throat, and you like that.

You lean in closer, your breath hot against his sensitive skin. “Tell me what you want,” you whisper, your fingers lightly tracing his length, making him shiver.

“I want you… please… don’t stop,” he moans, his voice breaking with need.

Satisfied with his plea, you finally take him back into your mouth, sucking him with a fresh push. His moans become louder, more desperate, as he nears the brink once more.

"Y/N... Oh God"

Jihoon’s body tenses, his hips bucking involuntarily as he reaches his peak. With a final, throaty moan, he comes hard, his cum exploding inside your mouth. You swallow, savoring the taste of him, as you continue to gently suckle until he’s completely spent.

Your mouth is making Jihoon sensitive, and even in his weakened state from the orgasm, he instinctively pulls your jaw away from his cock. The rough grip makes you hitch a breath, your pussy dripping a line on the duvet.

You feel a desperate need for any touch from him. He notices by the way your mouth stays open, needily, as he holds your jaw.

Seeing you like this, Jihoon's cock twitched, wanting to stand proud again. If he’d known how desperate you were for him, he would have eaten you out on his bed that day you came over to his house to see his Funko Pop collection.

His thumb rests on your cheek, then slides inside your mouth, pressing your tongue down. You cry, furrowing your eyebrows, rolling your tongue around the digit before closing your lips around it.

"It seems like you enjoy it?" Jihoon teases, his voice shy but gaining enthusiasm. “You like being needy for me?”

You whimper, his words making you melt. Seeing you fold to his touch, he gains confidence, seeing how you respond to his words. Jihoon slides his fingers out of your mouth with a cute pop, making you lay on him.

Your legs are straddling him on either side, your head resting next to his, as your chest presses against his. Before letting his fingers caress your wet pussy, his hand slides down your back and squeezes your ass.

He can feel you trembling, and Jihoon feels each quiver in his chest. He’s surprised by how wet you are, and his fingers may 'accidentally' slip inside. Without realizing it, your hips grind against him to feel more of his fingers, the tips circling your clit, as he feels you throbbing on the skin of his digits.

You knew that the moment Jihoon touched you, you would lose control. Your whimpers and pants don’t go unnoticed, especially since they’re right in his ear, his eyes closing in delight at the sound.

“I need to confess something,” Jihoon says.

You hum in response, the only sound you can manage. His other arm hugs your waist as he begins.

''I knew exactly what you were doing that day.''

"Hm?"

"That day… you were touching yourself in front of your window, pretending you didn’t know I was watching."

Your cheeks are burning hot, and your eyes enlarge.

Jihoon continues, his fingers teasing your clit. “You thought you were being discreet, but I could see everything.''

He shuts his eyes, remembering what he saw that day through your window.

"I could see your fingers sliding inside you, could hear you moaning all needy even through the glass. And you know what? I couldn't stop myself from watching."

You chuckle into his ear, moaning softly, revealing yourself, exposing your little plan.

“I fucking knew it,” he scoffs, slapping your ass. “You wanted me to watch, didn’t you?”

You moan at the impact, your body hugging him, trying to channel the pleasure somewhere. Jihoon’s fingers keep working you, but every time he feels your clit throb, announcing your close orgasm, he pulls his fingers away, making you cry out in frustration.

“Jihoon, please,” you beg, your voice shaky.

“I want to see how badly you need it.”

He continues talking, every word dripping with teasing. “I could see you, all needy and desperate. Your fingers weren’t enough, were they? You wanted me to be the one making you cum.”

You hiccup, the words wreaking havoc on your mind, and a mess between your legs, you can feel yourself sopping his abdomen. You were completely at his mercy.

Jihoon’s fingers return to your clit, teasing the swollen nerve. “You’re so wet for me,” he says, his voice cooing.

You groan, your hips grinding against his fingers. “Please, Jihoon, I can’t take it.”

He chuckles, enjoying your desperation. “You can. And you will. Just a little longer, okay?”

You nod while biting your lip. Jihoon's fingers work you ably, bringing you closer and closer before pulling away at the last moment.

He smirks, enjoying the control. "I felt so bad because I couldn’t stop touching myself when I saw you that day."

Your body melts into his, almost limp, your fingers losing their grip on his biceps as your moans turn into quivering pants from all the teasing. His fingers are suddenly still on your clit, and he coos at you, savoring the sight of you squirming so prettily. He’s been edging you for what feels like forever, and while he can’t help but enjoy it, a hint of concern creeps in.

“Do you want to cum, baby?” he asks, his tone sly-sweet.

You nod with a painful whimper.

“Sorry for making you wait so long,” he murmurs, not sounding sorry at all.

His hand moves to the side, circling your clit from an awkward angle, and before you can wonder why, he slides you down, thrusting upwards. His cock glides into you all at once, the messy state of your pussy making it easy for him to slide in.

You're so sensitive, that you can feel every little fold of his cock, the bulge of the head, and it was all too much.

Your entire body becomes acutely aware, your head lifting to look at his face. You feel almost pathetic, knowing what’s about to happen.

Your eyes squeezed shut, jaw falling open as your pussy swallowed him inside, cumming on his first thrust. His fingers increased the speed on your clit, and you finally let out a cry, your head falling onto his shoulder again.

“Did you just cum from me sliding in?” Jihoon teased, his voice full of disbelief. “Fuck, you’re so sensitive.”

“Jihoon,” you cringed on his shoulder.

“I knew you’d cum soon, but this?” he murmured, his own voice trembling as he realized how close he was to the edge too. “You’re going to make me lose it.”

He leans in to kiss you, but you pull back, a teasing smile on your face. Jihoon frowns, whimpering, following your face to try to kiss you again, but you dodge it. Smiling, you lift yourself slowly, then sink back down onto his cock, taking him deeper inside you.

You can feel every inch of him filling you up, the stretch is deliciously intense. Jihoon's face contorts with in pleasure, his mouth falling open as his close shut. His body arches, and the hand on your throat tightens involuntarily.

You suddenly remove his hands from your throat and your ass, guiding them to the top of his head. His fingers feel warm and slightly trembling against yours as you place them where you want them. Jihoon knows he could easily break free, but the temptation to see what you’ll do next is too great.

His once-cute expression transforms into something completely naughty, his lips caught between his teeth as he grins up at you.

“You were so shy a few minutes ago, and now look at you,” you tease, raising yourself before sinking back down on him, eliciting a throaty moan from his lips. “Where’s the boy who needed a robot to talk to me?”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through you. “That boy’s gone,” he manages to say, his voice breathy.

You start to roll your hips, riding him with a determined rhythm that makes him lose his mind. Each slam of your pussy onto his cock feels like you’re trying to obliterate every trace of his existence. The thought alone sends a shiver down his spine, straight to his cock.

“I’m going to ruin you,” you whisper, your voice dripping with lust and promise.

Jihoon groans, his eyes rolling back slightly as he feels you tighten around him. "I’m already there," he admits, his voice strained. "You’ve got me right where you want me."

You grin, savoring the power you have over him, and continue your relentless pace. His hands stay obediently where you placed them, his body writhing beneath you as he succumbs completely to your touch. Every ride, every roll of your hips, drives him closer to the edge, and he knows there’s no turning back.

You slide your hands off his and down his arms, feeling the hard lines of his muscles under your palms. Jihoon's body reacts like a wave, shivering and contorting with every touch.

You gather your hair, the heat in your body intensifying with every passing second. The pleasure spreads through you like wildfire, leaving a trail of burning need in its wake. You hold your hair in one hand, the other bracing against his abdomen.

Jihoon's eyes widen at the sight before him. A single drop of sweat slides down the middle of your breasts, glistening as it travels over your belly. Your head is thrown back, exposing the perfect curve of your neck, your tits bouncing with every downward thrust. Your pussy clenches around him, gripping him so tightly that he can barely think.

His fingers tighten on the sheets above his head, fighting the overwhelming urge to grab you and flip you onto all fours. He’s teetering on the edge, desperate not to cum too soon. He tries to think of anything else—natural disasters, money laundering scandals, food waste—anything to distract himself.

But then you say, "Ah ah, open your eyes for me,"

He curses you in his mind because the view he’s about to witness will destroy any hope of holding back.

He opens his eyes reluctantly, and the sight of you riding him, the look of raw pleasure on your face, is enough to push him right to the brink.

“Slow down,” he begs, his voice trembling as his eyes roll back, overcome with the intensity of your movements. The sight of him like this—so utterly undone—almost makes you cum on the spot, but you maintain your steady rhythm.

“You want me to slow down?” you taunt, a wicked grin spreading across your face. “But you look so pretty when you’re falling apart like this.”

Jihoon’s grip on the sheets tightens, his knuckles turning white. “Y/N, please,” he groans, his voice breaking. “I can’t... I can’t hold on if you keep going like this.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

The desperation in his voice piques your interest, propelling you to push him harder. "I want you to fill me up until there is no more space, until your cum is spilling out of me. I want to feel you mark me with every single drop you have.”

You can feel him tense, a deep moan escaping from his chest as he finally lets go. You cross the border when you feel his hot cum covering your walls and filling you. You find yourself trembling and struggling to breathe as your own orgasm bursts through you.

Jihoon’s release is strong, his body arching as he pumps into you, his grip on the sheets tightening. Your senses are overwhelmed by the volume of his thick and hot cum, which fills you to the brim.

The feeling of being so thoroughly claimed, so utterly marked, makes you feel light-headed.

Your legs begin to feel like jelly, and the ache from your current position becomes more evident. Your balance falters, and Jihoon, feeling your wavering, ignores your earlier command to hold his hands back. His hands instinctively go to your aid, stabilizing your quivering body.

You laugh at your state as he supports you up, feeling giddy at the situation.

"Are you good?" Jihoon asks.

You nod, a lazy smile spreading across your face. "I'm full," you say, glancing down at where your bodies are still connected.

Jihoon's eyes follow yours, and a soft chuckle escapes him. "I can see that," he murmurs, his hands gentle as they caress your sides. "I can't believe we just did that."

"Yeah," you hiss as you get up slowly, feeling the ache in your legs finally stretching out, and noticing the mess sliding out of you.

You glance down where you were sitting on him, admiring the white ribbons dripping out of you, around his cock, but Jihoon stops you before you can focus too much on it.

"I think I'm gonna take a bath," you think aloud, "or I'll just pass out on you like this."

Jihoon gulps, his gaze flickering nervously. You furrow your brow, genuinely confused. "What's wrong?" you ask, tilting your head.

He shifts uncomfortably, his cheeks coloring slightly. "Um, I... I don't want you to see me, uh, soft," he admits.

You roll your eyes playfully, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Oh, please," you tease, moving closer to him. "You think I'm only into you when you're hard?"

He stays shy, and you playfully suggest, "Why don't you take a bath with me? I promise I won't look."

Jihoon hesitates for a moment, then breaks into a smile and nods. "Okay, sure," he agrees, his cheeks still tinted pink.

You beam at him, delighted that he's willing to join you. "Great! I'll go first, then," you say, stepping carefully to avoid dripping on the floor.

Jihoon chuckles softly at your clumsiness, finding it endearing. "Take your time," he calls after you as you disappear into the bathroom.

The idea of bathing together feels even more intimate than what you just shared in bed. The thought of being naked together in the warm water, the steam enveloping you both, brings a different kind of closeness.

As Jihoon enters the bathroom, you turn your back to give him privacy, feeling the warm water cascade down your skin. The sound of him entering the shower reaches your ears, and you smile, knowing he's joining you.

You grab some body soap and pour it into his waiting hands, laughing softly as the foam starts to build between your fingers and over your skin. "Here, help me with this," you say, offering him the liquid soap.

Jihoon takes the liquid soap, and soon you're both covered in foamy suds, the bathroom filling with a fresh, clean scent. He wraps his arms around you in a slippery hug, both of you chuckling at the comical situation.

"You're so slippery," Jihoon remarks, giggling, as he tries to keep his grip on you.

You laugh softly, turning to face him now that you're both thoroughly soaped up. "It's the soap's fault," you tease, rubbing your hands over his shoulders to spread the suds.

After the bath, you and Jihoon towel off and slip into clean sheets, savoring the new, cool comfort against your skin. Just as you’re about to settle in, Beep Boop rolls into the room, his wheels humming softly.

Beep Boop's face screen flashes a cheerful smile. "Hello! Beep Boop is here to assist!"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Not now, Beep Boop. We’re trying to get some rest."

Jihoon gives Beep Boop an exasperated look. "Beep Boop, out. We need some privacy."

Beep Boop’s screen flickers, showing a sad face for a moment before it switches back to happy. "Beep Boop understands. Goodnight, humans!" He rolls out of the room, his wheels whirring softly.

You frown at Jihoon, playfully swatting his arm. "Don’t talk to him like that."

Jihoon laughs, pulling you closer. "It's a robot—"

You cut him off, pouting. "Apologize to him!"

Jihoon sighs, shaking his head with a smile. "Alright, alright. Beep Boop, I’m sorry!"

From the hallway, Beep Boop’s cheerful voice echoes back, "Apology accepted! Goodnight!"

You snuggle into Jihoon’s chest, feeling his laughter rumble through him. Jihoon chuckles, shaking his head. "You and your robot... I'm starting to think you like Beep Boop more than me."

You smirk and raise an eyebrow. "Are you jealous of Beep Boop?"

Jihoon gives you a mock offended look. "What? Me? Jealous of a robot? Absolutely not."

You poke his side playfully. "Admit it, you are a little jealous."

Jihoon crosses his arms, trying to look serious but failing as a smile creeps onto his face.

636 notes · View notes

mianexil · 6 months ago

Text

◇ The way they take care of you during your period ◇

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

💫 [ Girl, I hate this heavenly punishment for being a woman. But don't worry, these sweet kittens will take care of you during this lame time ]

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

ㅡ Suo, Umemiya, Kotoha, Sakura, Tsubakino, Kaji

Suo

Suo has found warm-ups that alleviate the pain of cramps so that you use less painkillers (after all, they can have a negative effect on the body). He comes to you and does this workout with you. He also brings tea that has a calming effect and makes it for you.

Suo is patient enough, but in your case, it can be said that he has a separate oasis of calm in reserve for you. If you feel like a mess, then he will take you on his lap and hug you. Not too tight, so that you feel more free, but not too weak, so that you feel comfortable until you get up yourself.

Suo is not simpleton. He studied the intricacies of the female anatomy when you started dating so that nothing would catch him off guard in the future. Therefore, he understands why this is happening scientifically but doesn't understand why the world is designed so that the wonderful sex suffers every month.

Umemiya

A white-haired man runs out of the "Pothos" and Kotoha shouts after him.

《 Don't forget to buy a heating pad!! 》

And all because 2 minutes ago you wrote that you needed his warm embrace.

Umemiya is absolutely fine with the topic of menstruation. He is one of those guys who will go to the store and ask the saleswoman to advise him on the topic of pads/tampons.

What are the safest ones for your health? Which are the most convenient?

Hajime will study everything with a serious attitude in order to take good care of you during this period.

He will definitely download the calendar app and set your dates there to prepare in advance.

And of course, he went to Kotoha to get a lecture on how best to take care of you.

Don't worry, honey, Kotoha will definitely bring him up strictly as it should be.

Kotoha

God, this girl is so sweet. Next to her, all your bad feelings seem to be blown away by the wind.

Who but a woman will understand another woman.

She'll take good care of you: sweets, painkillers, hugs, everything for you.

She will definitely take a day off from Pothos to be with you during this period.

Long, sweet conversations to distract you from feeling unwell, cooking delicious omuraisu for you, it's all about Kotoha.

A cozy movie night? Definitely.

Well, if you want ice cream, then there is always Umemiya, whom she will send to the store as a deliveryman.

Sakura

This boy doesn't understand women's stuff at all. Of course, he will be confused at first when he hears an explanation of why you look so exhausted.

Sakura can't stand the sight of the only person he let into his heart suffering so much. He wants to help, but he doesn't know how, and because of this he is very angry with himself.

It's understandable, this little savage does not even know how to take care of himself properly, what does it say about taking care of others? However, this does not mean that he does not want to.

《 Damn, stop suffering in silence. Just tell me, what should I do? I'll do it right now 》

Sakura will blush like a tomato, standing in the store at the shelf with feminine hygiene products, but this does not mean that he won't get a full bag, because his embarrassment can't be compared with the desire to benefit you.

Upon hearing your request for a hug, Sakura will turn to you all blushed, but as soon as he sees your slightly swollen, tired eyes, his body will start moving on its own. Embarrassment doesn't stop him anymore, this is not the time to worry about it.

His arms wrap around you, pressing you against a warm body as if you are about to disappear and he has to hold you.

Yes, he's not experienced in such things yet, but he's trying his best for you.

Tsubakino

Tsubakino is very gentle, but when you feel bad, he reaches his peak.

Tasuki has never experienced anything like this, but he's very knowledgeable about this topic.

He immediately notices when you feel bad, even if you try to hide it. And he will immediately take you home to give you a sense of comfort and relaxation.

Tsubakino will distract you from unpleasant sensations with all sorts of beauty treatments: moisturizing face masks, manicure, massage, everything for your comfort.

Do you want some sweets? ㅡ He will bake you cookies.

Do you want to cry and lament? ㅡ Don't keep it to yourself, honey. He will wrap you in a plaid, and his gentle fingers will wipe the tears from your eyes, holding you in a tight embrace for as long as it takes.

Kaji

Kaji will leave the patrol of the city, leaving it to his team to be with you at this time.

He doesn't quite understand how best to behave in such a situation, but his beloved feels unwell, which means he will do everything he can to make you feel better.

Ren will listen to your instructions and silently run back and forth, doing them.

He will bring you a jar of lollipops from his house so that you can choose what you like.

If you want to complain about your condition, he will listen to everything, and then put his headphones on your ears, turn on calm music and sit next to you, stroking your hand.

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

820 notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 5 months ago

Text

Anon: NSFW headcanons for Akashi Seijuro, Murasakibara Atsushi, Aomine Daiki, Snake, Illumi, Kozume Kenma, Inumaki Toge and Choso Kamo?

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, obsession, possessive behavior, dependency, delusional behavior, clinginess, stalking, isolation, abduction, Nsfw, dub-con, food play, size kink, bondage, temperature play, Katoptronophilia, shibari, impact play, praise kink, choking,claustrophilia, somnophilia, oral sex, breeding kink, impregnation kink, pregnancy kink, non-con, afab reader

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz @jamayah @cynniical @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59

Nsfw Hc's

Snake

⚕️You'd never expect someone who is a snake hybrid to be as mellow as Snake is as those reptiles normally have a feared reputation amongst most people. Your lover on the other hand is nothing like the unjustified reputation that snakes get, awfully shy and flustered whenever the two of you are together. Truth be told, he doesn't think that he is good enough for you at times even if his snakes try to convince him otherwise as they urge him to give in to his darkest desires. Tight suits and a lot of skin are nothing new to Snake as he spent years in a circus where he saw a lot of exposing outfits during performances yet one mere peek at more skin of yours than what he normally sees is already enough to fluster him greatly, his cheeks on fire as he he mutters a shaky apology before he turns around and quickly stumbles away, barely able to walk straight. He tries to sleep boners off though, feeling far too much shame to masturbate to the thought of you. When his cock doesn't go down though, he sneaks away to find an isolated spot where hopefully no one will catch him in the shameful moment, his relief short-lived as guilt fills him as soon as he has spilled his semen all over his hand.

⚕️Unless he finds himself entering heat, Snake keeps quiet about his arousal and sexual needs around you, scared that you'd be disgusted to find out that you are the subject of his desires. The first time you two share together is going to be most likely initiated by you. A lot of patience and assurance will be required from your side though as Snake is frightened to reveal his full body to you. Even when partially undressed you notice that his shimmering scales cover parts of his arms, his thighs, his chest, abdomen and even his cock but your fascination for this triggers his insecurities as he was often shamed and ridiculed for it. It's very likely that he prefers being partially clothed during sex for a certain amount of time and you don't pressure him as you allow him to do what makes him most comfortable. His body is normally on a slightly cooler side but he heats up quickly, especially the parts of him that are covered in scales radiate the heat of his body. You can especially feel that when you sense the increasing warmth of his cock gliding in and out of you, the scales on it making every stroke smooth, his cheek ablaze with heat as he pants, hisses and grunts softly.

⚕️Snake, inexperienced and worried that he may not satisfy you, prefers to let you be in charge of everything going on in the bedroom. He trusts you to lead everything and to let you do as you please with him. Whenever both of you get intimate, Snake desires extreme closeness so he always wants to be in a sex position where the both of you can hug each other or have as much skin to skin contact as possible. Outside of his heat, it is unlikely that he brings much to sex life but would be willing to try some kinks with you as long as they do not involve any pain. Since he tends to get very hot during sex you start bringing cold towels and ice cubes with you. What initially was only a thoughtful gesture out of worries quickly turned into the introduction of temperature play. Especially his scales are a very erogenous part of his body and you enjoy drawing an ice cube over his stomach, watching it melt on his skin whilst Snake feels his stomach knotting and his cock twitching inside of you. Even after both of you are finished the cold towely serve a purpose simply to cool him down as he clings to you.

⚕️You aren't surprised when you discover that Snake loves being praised given his insecurities and his shunned past. After having even lost his family in the circus, you are the only person he really has left and adores as much as he does even if he has settled down in his new life as a servant of the Phantomhive mansion. He wants you to tell him that you love him and desire him, needs that positive reinforcement to fight against his own inner demons. Snake never demands or begs for it though but the way he clings to you during and after sex is always a silent way of expressing his needs. The gaze in his golden eyes speaks what he can't vocalise and you always see it through to ease his anxieties and doubts during sex about everything he feels insecure about. You make it a point to gently murmur your praises and your love to him, to caress the parts of his body covered in the glittering scales and to praise him for how good he is making you feel. His grip on you always tightens and sometimes you even hear his breath hitching when you express your own love and adoration for him. Sometimes those skillful touches and sweet words led to a premature ejaculation.

⚕️Since the day you found out that Snake is a snake hybrid you have always silently wondered about something. It is the first open-mouthed kiss that confirms your suspicion when you feel his forked tongue tentatively engaging with yours as he allows you to dominate the kiss. You sometimes die on the inside as you wonder how it would feel if he were to use it to eat you out yet you do not wish to make him feel like he has to do it just because you ask him to. His tongue darts out often during sex, tasting your skin on instinct. His bashfulness doesn't mean that he doesn't notice your reaction to his forked tongue as he is quietly on the lookout on how to up his own game and please you better. He's somewhat shy the first time he consciously uses his tongue to play with your nipples, golden eyes glued to your face to see your reaction and you let him know that you enjoy it, encouraging him to keep going. Eventually he gathers the courage to ask you himself if he can pleasure you with his tongue as he wants to provide you with pleasure all by himself even if his preferences are in vaginal sex because of the feeling of intimacy and closeness he always receives during it.

⚕️The only time where you have Snake ever seen like a different person is when his heat drops by. His normally lower libido increases suddenly, he is in a perpetual state of arousal and acts more aggressive as his body longs for your warmth. His pupils turn into slits as he stares at you like a predator, even startling you the first time it happens. He assures you with a shaky voice that you do not owe him anything yet you express your wish to help him, curious how much will change in the sacred privacy of the bedroom. Snake is more dominant and confident as a more feral part takes over even if he still tries to be more careful. Fangs sink into your skin just enough to scratch the skin, his tongue much more assertive and exploring as he smears his saliva all over your body. Even his friends get involved a few times, wrapping themselves around your wrists that Snake pins above your head, hissing and communicating with his snakes whilst you are left in the dark. During this time he feels the excessive need to paint your insides white with his sticky release, the instinct to breed you hard to resist as his brain is addled with a heat that normally has him in a chokehold for a couple of weeks.

Illumi Zoldyck

🤎Illumi is detached from everything around him with his only focus so far having been obsessively lying in the Zoldyck family and fulfilling his duty to maintain their reputation. Sex has never been something he thought of as personal enjoyment and much less as an intimate bonding experience with a partner. It's just been something he has always viewed as necessary to produce heirs and serve his role as a member of the Zoldycks. Things change though when dark feelings of obsessive love blossom in his heart all because of your existence though and initially he himself doesn't quite grasp what is going on with his body. He's had some hard-ons in his life before yet he has never or at least rarely bothered to take care of the problem. Now things take a different turn though. Illumi is an excessive stalker before he abducts you, he gets to see you in all of your glory and even witnesses moments where you masturbate to relieve yourself. He doesn't think much of it as you are his property so it is only right for him to see you like this but what he doesn't account for is the persistent stiffness as dark orbs watch your every movement, his cock pulsing and his tip leaking pre-cum as it is begging for release.

🤎For the first time in his life is he actually unable to ignore his own libido, your existence throwing him off-balance. Instead of seeking out to control himself Illumi decides to indulge himself. His behavior, though highly disturbing and creepy, is something he thinks of as perfectly normal as you are going to be his spouse in the near future and for that will end up serving him and pleasing him as your husband. Until that day comes though, he resorts to different methods in the meantime. His hand always strokes his pale and stiff length when he is stalking you, especially when he watches you undress for the night or catches you masturbating yourself. He even breaks into your house a few times, your scent almost immediately causing him to stiffen. Items of yours gradually start to disappear. Perfume, shampoo, clothes and lingerie all just vanish without ever appearing again. Perhaps it is better to remain oblivious to the reason why they disappear in the first place though as you'd surely burn it all if you were to get it back, covered in dried spunk and saliva. Whatever scent reminds Illumi of your hair, your skin and your body always gives him a hard-on, no matter the situation.

🤎As soon as the abduction has happened, things get extremely uncomfortable for you as Illumi possesses not even a slice of shame. He admits openly to you that he has been watching and stalking you and even returns the things to you that he has stolen as he has kept them with him only to tilt his head confused when he notices the disgusted horror on your face. He's a perverted creep yet doesn't understand what your problem is. He has seen you naked before so why can't he watch you when you undress, take a shower or even masturbate? Black eyes always watch you no matter where you are in the mansion, not allowing you even one moment of peace. You never know where he is though, only know that Illumi is lurking somewhere. Now that you are where you belong though, he seems to be permanently aroused as your mere presence is bewitching. Cold and white hands suddenly grab you from behind, his nose buried in your hair as he takes a deep whiff of your scent as he presses you closer to his body, his throbbing cock pressed against your lower back. You have no saying in this all as Illumi's patience will quickly wear thin. His body is acting like this because of you so it is your job to take care of it.

🤎Consens is not something he deems as necessary and that is rather obvious in his distinctive Somnophilia. There has always been something about the way you so innocently slept all whilst he jerks off right next to you whilst touching and groping you. He has done it even before he abducted you but he takes it to the extreme as soon as you live with him and are married to him. It is not uncommon for you to wake up to him already balls deep inside of you or to him eating you out with his tongue, whether in the middle of the night or in the early morning. He is insatiable now that he finally has his hands on you and his libido needs weeks to calm somewhat down. He mounts you multiple times a day no matter where the both of you currently are. He's taken you from behind in the kitchen, in the garden or even in the corridor even as butlers passed by who professionally ignored the sight of his length shoved in one of your holes as his Nen always picked up dangerously when he sensed one of them glancing at the both of you for longer than one second. You're never let off the hook until Illumi is satisfied and removes himself from you before carrying you elsewhere.

🤎Whenever Illumi discovers something that fawns the heat of pleasure he is very direct in informing you about it. The first time you tugged at his hair during sex he instantly grabbed your hand and told you to keep on doing it, the sensation of having the roots of his hair being pulled at pleasurable. The same counts for scratches you accidentally give him though hailing from a family famous for producing ruthless assassins normally he doesn't allow people to casually wound him. He doesn't even bother hiding scratch marks when he walks around the mansion but servants and family members alike never talk about it, the only exception is probably Kikyo who sometimes tries prodding around to find out about your sex life yet Illumi silences her rather quickly. Then again, he has no qualms to talk about such stuff when you are around even if other people are within earshot. It is embarrassing, uncomfortable and disturbing all at the same time when he trails behind you like a second shadow and questions you about why exactly you didn't want him to fuck you raw this morning all whilst members of his own family could be around.

🤎When he gets a boner throughout the day, he seeks you out and tells you to help him with his problem. Whether you'll get away with only giving him a handjob or fucked raw against whatever surface is currently surrounding you remains a surprise. Illumi gains a certain fixation on your hands though, black eyes watching closely when your fingers trail over his body and brush the head of his stiff dick with fascination. He always wants you to use your hands to touch him somehow, whether by stroking his cock, pulling at his hair or scratching at his back. Kikyo has been pestering you about children within only weeks after you arrived and it doesn't take long for Illumi to bring the topic up to you either. What he has so far only ever seen as duty now has become a much more primal desire as he expresses his longing to claim your body even from the inside by reshaping it with his child as pregnancy is a fate unavoidable to you if you are fertile and capable of carrying. Things don't calm down even if you are pregnant though as your swollen stomach and growing breast only seem to unlock a new attraction within Illumi as he can't seem to get enough of you and your changing body.

Kozume Kenma

🐱Without having made prior encounters with the obsessive part of Kenma's feelings, it is likely to only see him as an introverted and somewhat socially awkward individual who prefers his time clinging to your side. All of that is true of course but it is only a part of the bigger picture that makes up Kenma. I wouldn't really see him as someone who is overly sexual as I can see him as someone who can cuddle with his darling completely naked without letting it escalate to anything sexual in favor of basking in the intimacy and comfort of it all. Whenever Kenma does get in a sexual mood though you'd be probably shocked to discover that he is more kinky than what you may have expected him to be for the entirety of your relationship so far. Has he researched on kinks on the internet before out of boredeom? Yes. Has this given him some ideas of what he would like to try out with you as soon as the both of you are ready? Also yes. Whilst sex isn't something he views as a necessity for a loving and good relationship, he does enjoy it if you are the one approaching him and vocalising to him your desires.

🐱When it comes to his preferences of being dominant or submissive Kenma is a switch who is wiling to lean more into one than the other aspect if you should have your own preferences for one side. Whatever role he assumes though, there will be something involved most of the time. Bondage is something on the frontline of things as it is one of the earliest things he discovered on the internet and the one that he still enjoys as one of the most. He's browsed through online shops to purchase quite a few ropes. Some of them are made out of soft and silky material that won't damage the skin on the wrists, others are rough and more likely to rub the skin raw. He'll use the ones you are most comfortable with whilst he switches back and forth between the both of them depending on whether he is in a slightly more masochistic mood or not. Through his interest in bondage he gets into shibari and starts practicing the art of it so that he can hopefully use it the next time you are down for a good time. You sometimes even catch him in the middle of practicing and your jaw got slack the first couple of times when he asked you unashamed if you'd allow him to practice on you or if you'd like to practice on him.

🐱Sensory depravation is another thing that has caught his eyes on his journey through kinks and another hobby on his on which he has blown quite a bit of money to collect desired items. He has his own cabinet where he stores all the stuff he usually only needs during sex. He's got a couple of blindfolds and earmuffs and together with the ropes restricting movement, Kenma finds a certain thrill in being left with only a few senses whilst having the ones best suited to identify stuff around one cut off. He himself finds enjoyment when light and sounds are taken away from him, leaving him much more aware of the senses he still has left. Every subtle shift of the mattress is something he notices with much more care than he would have before and every ghost-like touch somehow feels more intense when he doesn't know when it is coming as he can only hear his own heartbeat echoing through his body. There is just as much delight when you agree to let him use those tools on you, golden eyes observing the way you wriggle and squirm around whenever he touches you as you never know what's going to happen next yet trust him to hand so much control of you over to him.

🐱He isn't the biggest fan of vaginal sex or anal sex which sometimes is simply because he doesn't get hard enough. He does feel sorry for it at times but his libido is rather low yet he still wants to be able to please you when your body gets needy. So he starts practicing with his tongue and his fingers to please you as much as he can all whilst using your reactions as a guide to learn where to dig his tongue or how to curl his fingers to get the needed reaction out of you. It's also why he has quite a few dildos and vibrators with which he was quite fascinated the first few times as he'd never seen them in person before. He goes through the effort to use all of them on you to determine which ones feel the best for you and which ones bring you the most stimulation and pleasure as he will use those from that day on more commonly. When he takes on the submissive part which happens mainly when he has an errection he may also ask of you to wear a specific set of lingerie and stockings for him as he gives you permission to even degrade him a bit. You always see it through to never be too harsh with him though and make sure to mix in some condescending praises all whilst he is panting and squirming.

🐱On some occasions Kenma is too lazy to bother with ropes and other toys though, especially when he finds himself waking up early in the morning whilst being already half-hard for whatever reasons. Then he'll either try to sleep it off or will turn to you for help if it doesn't get better or maybe even gets worse. In such situations the sex is much more lazy and relaxed as you crawl over him and tug his pants down as he leaves the decision to you what you'll do with his erection from that point on. Whether you give him a handjob, a mouthjob or decide to impale yourself on his stiff length and ride him is solely up to you. Both of you converse in such moments in a more normal fashion, unless you suck him off, as no kinky aspects are involved and both of you just share sweet comments and compliments about each other as you set the tempo. He'll look at you with a lazy and small grin as he watches you, golden eyes half-lidded with occasional pants and grunts tumbling from his lips as you slowly get him closer to his release. Both of you usually get back to cuddling before dozing off again after he's ejaculated.

🐱Eventually he brings up the idea of taking pictures, recording audios or even videos of your sex life and it isn't something you are instantly comfortable with. He promises you to be careful though and to never let those files be leaked to anyone else. He starts with only pictures to ease your still somewhat hesitant mind about it all. It comes very surprisingly when he suddenly pulls your earmuffs off and you suddenly hear the snap sounds of his phone taking pictures of you in your current position. There is always some humiliation that comes with it as you try to imagine what you must look like on those pictures but he allows you just as much to take pictures of him when he is in that position and not you. He creates a specific file where he stores all of those records, can view and watch them without getting aroused most of the time unless he is in a mood. There have been no malicious intentions behind recording your sex life as Kenma deems your relationship to be as very stable yet just in case something unexpected should go down he knows that he has something to blackmail you with.

Aomine Daiki

💙Upon first impression no one would have ever expected for someone like Aomine to be so infatuated with his darling. Sure, he is scaring away anyone who triggers his possessive instincts but he is like a tame panther when he is around you. Now, it is no secret that Aomine has a habit of collecting magazines featuring girls who are on the busty side but he starts getting rid of them the moment he realises that he is making you feel insecure, especially if you are someone with a smaller chest, even tearing them apart in front of you to bring his point across. He's already on a rather touchy side at an early point in the relationship and prefers always having at least one hand somewhere on your body to keep you close and feel you. After you have discovered his magazines though you become suddenly very conscious of the way his eyes always linger on your chest, especially if you wear something that pronounces the curves and shape of your breast. Sometimes he is staring almost too much until you point it out to him. He is definitely a bit of a pervert and he doesn't even try to make a secret out of it. Something wrong with enjoying the sight of what is his?

💙Still he wouldn't coax you into something that you wouldn't want yourself which is why Aomine spends some of his free time masturbating whilst thinking about you. It isn't anything he feels ashamed about, after all how could he not get riled up when you are that sexy and cute? Often he finds himself gazing at a cute picture that he took of you one time on his phone whilst doing so, preferably one where more of your cleavage is exposed or he grabs something that smells like you. He does force you to wear some of his shirts and jackets so he usually always has something that still retains traces of your smell which is used to stimulate him only further. His endurance is already very obvious whenever he jerks off as he can spend hours ejaculating and emptying his balls and still have the energy and spunk for more. At times Daiki can't hide his desire for you and he has probably left you breathless countless times when a hungry kiss turned into a make out session where he pushed you against a wall or forced you on his lap and spent the next minutes letting his hands roam over your body and massaged your breast through your bra all whilst you could feel and see the dent in his pants.

💙From the very first moment you found out about his magazines you have always been aware that Aomine has a thing for breasts and that has been obvious for you ever since. The man loves your bosom and it's the one thing he loves touching and squeezing on your body the most, no matter how big or small they may be. Nipple and breast worship is definitely going to be a common experience for you once you finally let him explore your body. There is always something that will play and pleasure your nipples. Whether it's his rough fingers rubbing, pinching and rolling the nubs around or by using his mouth as his hot breath fawns your sensitive nipples whilst he licks, nibbles and even sucks on your chest. Foreplay exists sometimes entirely out of him pleasuring your breast and he has gotten so intense with it at times that you have actually had an orgasm solely because he was playing around with your nipples. When he finds out that during your menstruation your chest tends to be more sensitive and tender he totally uses that chance if you let him. After all the pleasure may be able to help you with the cramps you experience during your period so it's a win-win situation.

💙A good set of lingerie is always something Aomine knows to appreciate and it isn't uncommon that he sometimes buys you one in his favorite colour in hopes that you'll wear it the next time. It isn't the only thing that sets him in a good mood though. Sometimes it just happens accidentally that a situation, especially physical ones, cause his body to produce adrenaline which causes him arousal and stiffens his cock. Especially basketball has always been a sport that has managed to make his heart race with thrill when he faced an opponent that provided him with a good game. The adrenaline doesn't wear down even after the game and stays with him, his hardened cock persistent to not go down which is why he always grabs you after a good game and starts kissing you deeply. You can feel how much his heart is still racing as soon as you put your hands on his chest and now what is going on the moment you notice the bulge in his pants. Sometimes he doesn't even have the patience to wait until the both of you are home as he simply searches for the nextbest secluded area and takes you then and there with his body shielding you just in case someone still finds the both of you.

💙He is a beast as much in the sheets as he is on the court and whilst he does attempt to restrain himself better, at one point you always end up getting railed into the sheets as his excitement gets the better of him. As someone who stands at 6' 3 feet chances are that you are a good bit smaller than he is and if that should be the case, he is going to develop a major size kink. You're far too precious and cute whenever you are pressed beneath him with his own build dwarfing yours as he gently bullies his erect and thick cock inside of you all whilst trying to soothe you as good as he can if you should experience any discomfort in the process. He loves watching your smaller body bouncing up and down with every thrust of his, your breasts jiggling and your belly bulging when he buries himself fully inside of you as your insides literally get shaped to fit him inside of you. Conscious that he tends to go a bit feral during sex, you two actually establish a safeword that you can use if he gets too rough and if he's too deep immersed in everything Aomine allows you to slap him to snap him out of it.

💙Normally the one who keeps the role of the dominating one sometimes Aomine does prefer you to be on top and ride him. Mostly when it's still early in the morning and he knows that he has the whole day for himself which only motivates him to stay in bed for a little longer with you. One of his hands is still on your hips though and lifts you lazily up and down whilst the other one finds its way to your bouncing boobs, squeezing and playing around with the sensitive flesh. Even when he is technically still half-asleep he can't help the dirty talk that spills from his lips as your warm walls flutter around his cock whenever he brushes against the sensitive bundles of nerves only he has ever touched. He keeps you seated on top of him even after both of you have reached your climax, just enjoying the sensation of you cockwarming him for a few minutes before he pulls out when it gets too uncomfortable for you. Most of the time he just goes back to sleep right after whilst keeping an iron-grip on you. Both of you have the whole day after all so let him relax with you for a little while.

Murasakibara Atsushi

🍭For all of the clinginess Murasakibara expresses when in the company of his darling his intentions never revolve much around any sexual desires he is feeling at the moment. He just genuinely enjoys the physical affection he can get from you. As someone who stands at an astonishing height of 208 cm (6' 10") perhaps it is a natural instinct of his to protect you because you will definitely be smaller than him which in return only increases his desire to just wrap you in his arms and hide you from the world. Who knows, if you are on a small side he may just be able to do that. The first time he actually gets an erection is ironically enough yet in hindsight not surprising when he watches you intently licking a lollipop that he has given you before. Initially he just watches out of boredom because he doesn't have anything else to do but something about the way your tongue swipes over the sweet entrances him, the movement of your tongue fascinating and erotic in his eyes. Before he knows what he is doing, he suddenly asks you what flavor the lolli is but just as you are about to answer that question, his mouth is already pressed against yours whilst his tongue is exploring your own to taste the answer himself.

🍭He is kind of confused for a while after that incident because he has never been one who felt like indulging in sexual things yet it always seems to be from that day on that the combination of food and you seems to stir his cock awake in his pants. The way you lick your chopsticks whilst eating something or when sauce or ice cream drips down your chin and your tongue flips out to catch the droplets before they drop on your clothes. Somehow Atsushi just can't seem to tear his gaze away from you in such moments and you do notice that and sometimes just can't help but tease him a bit by being more sensual with every little gesture of yours all whilst he slowly leans closer, entranced by it until he catches you off-guard as his own long tongue suddenly appears and licks the food away from your face, his breath noticably heavier and shakier as he does so. Your surprise about the fact that the combination of his most favorite thing in the world, you, and another one of his favorite things in the world, food, is rather limited as you would have probably found it weirder if he wouldn't have found it arousing.

🍭That is why food play is something that is almost immediately tried out the moment the both of you find yourselves being more intimate. As his height may be something that intimidates and worries you, especially since he is massive down there, foreplay, handjobs and oral sex is something that is a far more common practice between the both of you than vaginal sex or anal sex. Murasakibara never finds himself complaining much though as he actually prefers this much more as it is literally much more tasty for him that way. He buys tons of sweets and cream the moment you actually explain to him the topic of food play and instantly wants to try out almost every flavor possible. He loves placing candy all over your skin or decorating your body with whipped cream or something else, tracing his tongue all over you, nibbling, biting and sucking whilst savoring the sweet flavor. Your pussy isn't save from being coated in something sugary either but do not worry, his tongue cleans up everything just wonderfully whilst the flavor gets mixed with your own juices as the long muscles slides in and out of you, not letting a single drop get to waste.

🍭He loves combining the flavor of your dripping arousal with ice cream, whipped cream or other sweet things as every combination results in a new favorite flavor for him which is why eating you out becomes quickly a new favorite thing for him. The taste of sugar and your juices is in fact so good that by the end of it he is painfully hard in his own pants, the tip of his cock red and leaking pre-cum. You use your hands and your tongue to coax his own orgasm out of him because he is actually worried that he may hurt you if he would put his entire length inside your mouth. If you can consume the same sweet and sugary creams he gladly uses to paint your body in he would encourage you to rub it onto his cock as well before licking it all off with your tongue. He always cums on you, staining your chest and your chin with his release and his eyes are immediately drawn to you and the way the sticky and translucent load drips down your chin and chest. Seeing you all messy and stained in his release is a sight he rather likes watching, especially if you decide to be a minx enough to use that darn tongue of yours to taste some of his spunk.

🍭Murasakibara has always been someone who has shared all of his food with you and who has fed you everything he consumed as long as he knew that you could digest it without any risks. It is for that likely that his excessive feeding has led you to gain a few pounds but he'd find that only more adorable. If you are on a chubbier side he probably wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself and would constantly want to touch you and squeeze you, loving how soft you are. He even feeds you during sex if his mouth isn't busily ravishing your moist pussy and whatever else he has decided to try out on that day, popping a sugar cube or a fruit inside his mouth before kissing you and pushing it with his tongue inside your own before pulling back and watching you chewing and swallowing it before repeating the process until you are whining that you can't eat anymore. He always makes a mess and after both of you are done, you're always covered in saliva, body fluids as well as sugary creams but Murasakibara enjoys the sight and the smell of the aftermath and prefers to enjoy it for a while longer before the both of you have to clean up.

🍭The few times where you do insist on taking his cock inside of you Atsushi preps you carefully so that you are loose enough to not hurt yourself whilst taking him. Since his height poses a problem, the smaller you are all the more, you are always on top of him as he could literally hurt you if he would move wrongly inside of you or go too hard or too fast which is why he lets you set the tempo. Large hands hold your waist as he lays down or sits whilst lowering you slowly down his erect length, violet eyes holding a hint of nervousness behind his normally passive expression as he watches for any sounds or signs of discomfort and pain from you. Once he has lowered you completely on his length, his hands on your waist prevent you from moving for a while as he wants to give you the time to properly adjust to the feeling of his cock inside of you before you tell him that you're fine and he loosens his hold as you start moving. If he is in a seating position, he just wraps you up in his arms and keeps you to himself whilst you ride him. Considering his insane strength he could probably easily lift you up and fuck you whilst standing.

Akashi Seijuro

🏆Akashi is always a double-edged sword to have as the person obsessed with you and it all boils down to his own self-control. Akashi has without a doubt the best hold of his own obsession but it is this very fact that can make him so very terrifying as this merely means that he is always in control of his own temper as well as everything going on around him. A master manipulator who knows what to do to achieve his goals of keeping you by his side yet also firm to keep his chivalry and have some rules set for him when it comes to you. This can be more of a curse than it is to be a blessing yet it is this fact that keeps him from touching you sexually unless he notices that he has your consens. He may initiate it to test the water but the moment he realises that your body goes tense or that you look uncomfortable he pulls away and apologises. He's always gauging your reaction whenever he even subtly hints at the topic all to observe and figure out your true feelings about it which will determine whether he'll wait for a bit longer or if it would be safe for him to proceed further.

🏆As a hard perfectionist Seijuro has weirdly high expectations for everything involving the relationship. Everything has to fit in, everything has to work seamlessly and if it doesn't he takes measurements to see through that it does. The same logic applies to sex life and especially the first time. He has ensured you that your pleasure is something very important to him yet at the same time Seijuro intends to enjoy you just like the work of art that you are in his eyes. You're going to get dolled up so that you are a treat for his eyes that he intends to savor slowly and sensually. He plans the first love making almost meticulously and makes a fuss until absolutely everything is perfect in his eyes. There is no need to rush the process as he actually prefers to set the mood and stretch everything out just enough until the both of you are on edge and the anticipation is thick in the air. Everything is done in a slower and borderline torturous pace for himself as well as you as he slowly helps you to strip out of your clothes and whilst the movement of his hands are calculated and controlled, the burning look of desire and painful dent in his pants is telling another story.

🏆Clothes are such an important thing to him. Akashi is not only rich but very active when it comes to the clothes you wear as a good portion of them was gifted to you by him. He wants you to look pretty and buys what he thinks would look simply gorgeous on you. Lingerie is no exception to that topic either and based on the clothes he suggests you to wear on certain dates you are actually able to guess how the evening will most likely end. Skimpy outfits aren't part of that collection though as Seijuro seems to view the process of stripping you of all of your clothes just like unwrapping a highly anticipated present. He craves the suspense, partially even views it as a challenge to him to hone and test his own self-control to see how long he can draw the sexual tension out until either you or he snaps. Art like you deserves nothing but praise in his eyes and as your lover he views it explicitly as his duty to see it through that nothing will hamper with your own self-esteem, especially not the words of others. Sharp and viligant to notice insecurities your soul may harbor in regards to your appearance, he'll be quick to correct your thoughts the next time both of you are naked.

🏆Whilst Akashi is absolutely not limited to only indulging in you in the walls of the bedroom, he is very picky with the locations he chooses as all of them will have to be prepared beforehand by him so that the mood is set. He invites you on especially tiring days for you into the bathroom where he has filled the bathtub with hot water for you, rose pedals swimming on the surface as the pleasant smell of oil he has added to the water fills the room as he helps you to undress and ushers you inside. He doesn't pounce on you like a wild animal though as he first and foremost sees it through that you are relaxed and let loose from all the stress you experienced during the day. Other times he preps the balcony in the huge garden, adding your favorite flowers and adjusting other details more to your personal liking before he leads you during the night to the secluded place. This perfectionist attitude of his doesn't allow for any imperfections or dirtiness in places where he plans to claim you for himself to the point where he would feel sorry for you if the both of you were ever forced to become intimate in a place that doesn't live up to his expectations.

🏆Visual representation is a key factor for Akashi. Everything he uses is to enhance your natural beauty even more. The clothes and the lingerie is one such example but it doesn't take long for him until he disovers the art of Japanese bondage. He's almost immediately taken by the idea and starts practicing his skills instantly. He's very picky with the material, the colour and the design he chooses for the ropes though. They're meant to make you look even more ravishing after all and should be firm enough to not allow you to move yet also gentle enough on the skin so that you don't accidentally rub your skin raw. The metaphor of unwrapping you like a gift becomes quite literal as soon as he has learned enough techniques to tie you up beautifully, always pulling away and hovering over your form for a few moments to admire and savor the breathtaking sight underneath him. He enjoys the aspect of having control, though it is more subtle if both of his eyes are of the same colour but shibari as well as his eventual suggestion of blindfolding you are signs he exhibits still when he enjoys you fully for himself. The thought of you trusting him despite being immobilised and blinded thrills and excites him deep down.

🏆Foreplay is always a build-up yet something Seijuro never skips as he deems it as yet another important step to properly set the mood as well as to prepare you to take him in the near future. Through practice, observation and learning he eventually figures out how to use his fingers and his tongue to pleasure you and find all of the right spots to stroke and touch to have you squirm underneath him yet at the same time he also learns to read the signs of your body that tell him that you are close only to then suddenly stop and deny you your incoming orgasm. He keeps you on the brink purposely by denying you your climax, heightens your arousal and your desire to have you completely unwind around his cock much more intensely when he eventually gives you what he denied you earlier. Aftercare is something he has never skipped and doesn't plan to ever do so. He keeps you hydrated and after a few minutes of resting and basking in the afterglow of the pleasure he normally takes a quick shower with you before going back to rest. He's even learnt how to properly give someone a massage and will gladly give you one if you request it of him.

Inumaki Toge

🗣️Inumaki is someone who does things in a relaxed and patient manner in a relationship as long as there is nothing that poses a threat to your life. The topic of physical intimacy is very much put under the same label as it is nothing he thinks of as desperately needed in a good relationship and more of an addition that the both of you can indulge in from time to time. He’d wait for you to initiate everything as he truly doesn’t care much about when it happens as long as he knows that you are comfortable with the thought and don’t feel forced to do it because the relationship has been going on for a while now. If he’d notice that you’re secretly desiring sexual intimacy but are too insecure or shy to speak about it though, Inumaki will step up and become more active by initiating it himself. As both of you can’t communicate verbally due to his Cursed Technique he has gotten very good in reading your body language if you do not convey something with your words which is why he notices the lingering gazes you give him and the way your body reacts when it is aroused.

🗣️In public Toge usually covers up the lower half of his face due to the tattoos there to help him using his power but he’s very comfortable to expose it completely around you as the both of you have a rather strong bond even despite his obsession as he flies much more under the radar in comparison to some of his friends. Inumaki is a major giver as I can’t see him having an overly high sex drive which is why he is able to put much more focus on your own pleasure instead. As he normally can’t use his lips to express his love for you verbally unless he uses his own language, he decides to use it much more actively when he pleases you. He showers your neck, your breasts, your stomach and the inside of your thighs with teasing kisses that he trails slowly down your body before he latches onto your sensitive nub between your legs and starts sucking and biting gently to coax an orgasm out of you. His tongue is just as frequently used as his lips are, swirling around your sensitive nipples, smearing thin trails of saliva all over your body, flicking teasingly over your clitoris before pushing the wet and warm muscle inside of you to eat you out.

🗣️As tempting as you may think the idea is, Inumaki refuses to even entertain the idea of using his voice to demand anything from you. By doing so he would force you to do something you do not have any control over and even if you would give him permission beforehand, he’d feel much too uncomfortable to continue any activity with you. Period sex is surprisingly enough a thing though that is mainly because he offers it to you when he realises that you are feeling horny even whilst you have your blood flow. You may be scared that he will be disgusted but Inumaki assures you that as a sorcerer he has seen and experienced more disgusting things in his life than a natural function your body goes through monthly. He’s heard that an orgasm during menstruation can even help against cramps and if you’re prone to strong cramps during your period he’d be all the more down for it. Admittedly, he does use his fingers during your menstruation to help you with your orgasm or he uses a sex toy if you have one in your possession and afterwards just caters to your needs.

🗣️When he himself experiences an erection he is quite neutral on whether or not you want him to be the one on top or want him to play more of a submissive role. Sex with him is always accompanied by a relaxed and attentive mood. It’s slow, considerate and nothing overly kinky unless you specifically want to try something that he would deem as safe and that wouldn’t make him uncomfortable or worried for your safety. He’s gotten so used to fingering you or using his tongue on you though that it feels weird to not tickle at least one orgasm out of you before he pushes himself inside of you so he always insists on going down on you at least once or ask you to sit on his face to let him do what he is by now quite good at before both of you proceed. It just doesn’t feel right until he feels your body trembling and squirming around, heard your pants and sounds of ecstasy and tastes your orgasm on his tongue. Only after he has fulfilled that task and knows that he has given you your climax by using his fingers or tongue does he feel finally eager and excited to move on to the next part.

🗣️If you decide that you don’t want to lie down and want to ride him, he prefers to still be seated so that he has better access to your body, wanting to litter it with adoring kisses and gentle touches of his. Most important for him though is that he always has a good view of your face and can keep eye contact with you. Inumaki always loves looking into your beautiful eyes and it’s the same even in such moments of extremely physical intimacy as it is important for him to always see that you are enjoying yourself, his pleaser behavior truly shining through. Whilst he doesn't fake his reactions to please you Toge does ensure that he doesn't hide any grunts or groans that linger on his lips when he feels your hot walls tightening around his shaft as he can't express the pleasure he receives in normal words. The prominent blush that tends to quickly spread on his entire face as soon as both of you start moving is a wordless indicator though that the entire experience is quite overwhelming for him and his body as well as slightly exhausting.

🗣️Normally he does feel safer if he is wearing protection because even if you do take contraception he just wants to be entirely sure just in case something does go wrong. If you request of him to not use a condom the next time he would still agree but only as long as he knows that your protection still works. He usually pulls out before his orgasm occurs though, his milky cum splashing all over your stomach instead before he flops down and just relaxes. He doesn't last longer than one or two rounds if he has vaginal sex with him as his own libido is satisfied after those few rounds which leaves him with only exhaustion. Even in that state of exhaustion he continues doting on you though, fully committed to use his tongue and his fingers if you should still have the energy and the arousal to go on. Otherwise he spends a couple of minutes just cuddling with you in bed, his hands soothingly trailing up and down your body before he wordlessly suggests for the both of you to take a quick shower.

Kamo Choso

🩸Choso pretty much thinks of himself as a provider and a protector for the few people he cares about. Those few people are mainly only his younger brothers, at one point only Yuji as he is the only one still alive, and the other person is you. Whilst the love Choso feels for you is obviously different from what he feels for Yuji his desire to protect and provide are at this point integrated into his personality. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if he wouldn't be able to care for you and keep you safe from all harm yet those new feelings also mean that he is introduced to things which were prior to meeting you foreign and unfamiliar concepts for him. One of those new concepts is the sexual need of his own body. You have to keep in mind after all that despite being technically quite old he has only been incarnated into a body made out of flesh and blood a few months ago which means that he is not yet familiar with all of the functions that his body has, leaving him admittedly somewhat flustered and dumbfounded when his cock starts pulsing and seems to get a mind of its own as he can feel the blood rushing into it and see how it starts pushing against his clothes, forming a bulge.

🩸Neither does he turn to Yuji for help nor does he bother to ask anyone else and with not enough knowledge to turn to the internet, Choso is left to figure it out himself. He can eventually draw his own conclusion with what is going on with his body but his own knowledge is limited and his experience is nonexistent yet it is this that seems to stress him out a bit. He wants you only happy and healthy with him yet if he can't provide for you when it comes to sex he can't help but feel like he would potentially fail you and disatisfy you. Somehow he has to figure out how it works though. He starts stalking you more intently, waits until you are in the safety of your own home and start masturbating whilst he watches you and clumsily starts stroking himself at the sight as well. He literally starts masturbating only to learn how his own body and orgasm works yet has troubles getting hard when he isn't watching you so he ends up stealing some clothes from you as your scent quickly causes his cock to stir with interest. Somehow he also stumbles across some magazines but those leave him with more questions than answers and in the worst case with some wrong ideas.

🩸As soon as Choso actually has you physically with him, whether that is through a more legal situation where Yuji was majorly involved or the good old abduction, his body goes absolutely crazy. Your scent, your presence and even the sight of you keep him into a situation of permanent arousal that won't leave him as his body can't stop the excitement and thrill he constantly feels by simply having you with him which means he is always at least half-hard. He's not touching you though as much as his throbbing cock is urging him to do. He can't stop staring at you and staying close to you though which only makes the situation harder for him as he notices every short peak of more skin when you move and always inhales your scent. Choso is a pervert but he probably doesn't know what that means in the first place and if you would explain it to him he would probably mumble that he's only watching you all the time and has done so even in the past because he desires to protect you even if you are undressing or naked. He doesn't really have any bad intentions but his body is in overdrive as he is severely touch-starved and on top of that extremely infatuated with you.

🩸His excessively touchy behavior aside, Choso never touches you unless you consent to it because the few times he did lose his control for a short while and sensed the excessive fear from you he instantly felt his heart drop at the knowledge that you were scared because of him before he pulled away, apologising with a shaky tone. When you eventually do allow him to get intimate with you he initially doesn't even know what he is supposed to do, excitement and nervousness flushing through his system as his hands start trembling. Your first time with him is messy and awkward during the start because he has neither the experience nor the courage to ask you for guidance as he wants to please you without relying on any help and the fact that he feels pressured to provide you with pleasure now that you have let him do this for you only makes his brain go a bit haywire even more. Eventually you are slightly fed up with his stubborn behavior and intend to get his attention as you grab a fist full of his hair and yank on his hair only to draw a surprised and somewhat pathetic moan from him which leaves you flustered and him panting with a blooming blush on his cheeks.

🩸Luckily he drops his stubbornness and accepts advice and help from you after that incident. Both of you make quite a few discoveries as time passes by and the most amusing one you find yourself somewhat abusing is the fact that not only is Choso a helpless simp but also downright masochistic when it comes to you. You can always draw one pathetic moan from him when you grab his hair and pull on it or unexpectantly spank him on his body with enough force to leave a red print on his skin. It's this combination of masochistic attributes and his infatuation that makes it fairly easy to push him into the submissive role yet you also learn that a few praises thrown in here and there are also always needed from him to keep him happy and aroused. Choso himself is never mean to you even if he does feel his cock throb when you are a tad bit mean to him during sex as he is seclusively a worshipper who prefers peppering you in kisses and showering you with compliments. In fact sometimes he is almost too talkative, apparently always having something he needs to praise about you even when his brain is having a short circuit during his orgasm and he just whines and whimpers declarations of love to you.

🩸He gets upset when he can't touch you and always prefers to be as closely pressed against you as possible. When he is the one on top of you it actually looks initially like he is just cuddling with you whilst both of you are naked. His arms are wrapped around you tightly, his head is nuzzled into your neck and he starts with a slow pace that gets progressively faster the closer he gets, especially if you tease him, pull at his hair or scratch him slightly. His needs to always have you close to him and worship you lead him to not only greatly enjoy having sex with you in tight spaces where both of you literally have to be smushed together due to the lack of space but also to love having sex in front of mirrors which allows him to admire you from all angles. His ability is blood manipulation and ironically enough he has a thing for period sex, especially since he heard that it can relieve the pain of cramps and if you suffer from especially intense ones and nothing else he does seems to help he just blurs out the question if he could try to coax an orgasm out of you in hopes that it'll help. Sometimes he gets emotionally almost overwhelmed with the intimacy and love he feels which leads him to shed some tears.

785 notes · View notes

withleeknow · 10 months ago

Text

happy place.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; unedited, just me being self-indulgent and word vomitting again word count: 0.8k listen to 🎧: you are in love - taylor swift

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

one of your favorite things that minho does is when he drops everything just to hug you. unprompted, out of nowhere.

you like to call these sporadic moments your silent hug time.

it started not too long ago, maybe a few months back, on a random sunday afternoon while you were all snuggled up with soonie on the couch and lazily flipping through the pages of the book you were reading. it had been gloomy and miserable all day; you and minho were supposed to drive to the beach and soak up the last rays of summer sun before fall announced its arrival.

the weather had other plans though. no more beach day, that was for sure.

your boyfriend quietly walked into the room, not saying a word as he grabbed the novel in your hands, slid your bookmark into place and unceremoniously dropped the book onto the carpeted floor. soonie was promptly handled - much more gently - and placed somewhere next to the couch, which earned minho a controlled hiss before the cat just wandered elsewhere in the house seeing that your cuddle session was so rudely interrupted.

you’d learned not to question why minho did the things he did or how that peculiar brain of his worked, so you just quietly watched him with a puzzled look on your face, curious to see what he would do next.

you didn’t know what you expected, but to have him quite literally flop onto your body, pinning you underneath him as he rested his head on your chest, was definitely not something you had in mind.

“you good?” you asked, threading your fingers through his hair to play with the soft floofy mess, holding him close to your heart.

minho just hummed in response as he hugged you tightly. he didn’t sound upset or anything; there was nothing for you to worry about.

he then stayed in the same position for roughly fifteen minutes before pushing himself off of you. “recharged. thanks,” he announced curtly, pressing an appreciative kiss to your lips and leaving the room without an explanation.

that’s kind of how it became a thing. minho would randomly surprise you with silent hug time every now and then, always without warning and reasoning. you suppose that he does it whenever he wants a little boost of energy and affection, whenever he feels down and needs a little pick-me-up, or simply whenever he just wants to be close to you for a while before returning to his day. to “recharge,” as he would call it. it doesn’t even matter what you're doing when he wants it; any time can be silent hug time.

you’re making dinner? not anymore. minho already has the stove turned off before holding you hostage between his body and the kitchen counter, his arms around you keeping you flush against him.

you just got back from grocery shopping and the ice cream needs to be put in the freezer? nope, minho doesn’t give a shit about that. your two tote bags full of produce and snacks can stay on the floor for all he cares. all that matters to him the second you walked through the front door is bombarding you with a bear hug and flooding his senses with the scent of your shampoo and the perfume he loves most on you.

you’re both running late to changbin’s housewarming party? too bad. what minho wants, minho gets and minho gets right now. you can only sigh in defeat as his hands slide around your waist to pull you to him, his face finding refuge in the crook of your neck where he gives you a quick kiss there. you wrap your arms around his neck, turning occasionally to press your lips against his temple. changbin will definitely be fussy about your tardiness, but if you’re being totally honest, he’s lucky that you’re able to drag minho there at all.

in all fairness, it’s cute. it’s wonderfully endearing and such a minho thing to do. in true minho fashion, he would rather manhandle you and let your ice cream melt than tell you that he wants a hug, because god knows that minho would never willingly admit it on his own.

nevertheless, even if you you might not be able to hear him ask a simple question like “can i get a hug?” in this lifetime, you still have the privilege of being the one he goes to when he needs peace and comfort, and his actions speak more than his words ever could.

minho thinks of you first because he associates you with nothing but goodness. because you’re his happy place. you’re the calm amidst every storm, the safe harbor he can always return to when he needs shelter. every pretty color he sees and every beautiful adjective in his vocabulary? that’s all you.

to minho, you aren’t even synonymous with love. you are love.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz1skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin (italicized = can’t tag)

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

1K notes · View notes

g-hughes · 5 months ago

Note

[ NUZZLE ] sender presses their face into receiver’s neck

quinn hughes bringing his girlfriend home to meet his family and he has never brought home a girl before so his family knows she must be very very special and he is always talking about her! it’s very sweet and soft and she just fits in the family so well and makes quinn so happy

A Keeper - Q. Hughes

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: Quinn finds himself at the lake in the off season, and this time, he isn't flying solo

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none! losing game seven

For as long as Quinn could remember, his whole life revolved around hockey. He’d wake up, eat a quick breakfast, go to hockey practice, shower, eat lunch, sit and watch film, come home and take a nap, then go back for another practice or a game. Everything he has ever known has been hockey. Hockey took up every moment of his life, every single thought.

But since that buzzer went off signaling the end of the final period of game seven, Quinn couldn’t think of hockey anymore.

He wasn’t the type of guy to cry, well, not in public at least. But standing on the ice at that moment, staring up at the scoreboard and seeing the final score, he felt that all too familiar burn behind his eyes and in his nose. He glanced around at his teammates, all of them wearing the same shocked and sad expression on their faces. He didn’t dare look over at Arty, knowing that the young goalie was going to be feeling this loss harder than anyone on the team, even though they all played in the game.

You stood off to the side as Quinn answered a couple of questions for the press. Your heart was also feeling heavy and you had that same all too familiar feeling of unshed tears in your eyes. You were so incredibly proud of your boyfriend and his team. The way they were able to turn everything around from the previous season and give Vancouver a play-off berth in over a decade was something to celebrate about. And, even with that knowledge, all you wanted to do was pull Quinn away from the press and give him a hug and a thousand kisses. You could tell just by looking at him he was physically and mentally exhausted. But Quinn wasn’t going to be rude and brush off the media, he was the captain. He would gladly stand and answer the dumb “how are you feeling after the loss?” question so his guys can go home and rest.

When Quinn was done, he silently walked over to you, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together. He silently led you towards the parking garage, wanting nothing more than to speed out of Rogers Arena and back home to your shared apartment. It was as if the fans knew that he wasn’t in the mood to stop and sign autographs like he usually did, instead they all seemed to give him space as he left the rink.

The two of you seemed to move in silence as you walked into your apartment. You took Quinn’s bag from his hand, as he walked towards the bedroom. You were putting his clothes into the washer when you heard the shower turn on. You laid out a pair of sweatpants for him to put on when he was done, and went to start making him some tea. By the time he was done showering, you were sitting up against the headboard, scrolling briefly through social media, with a mug of camomile tea in your other hand. He quietly crawled into bed, and you shifted so he could lay down next to you. You held your arms open as he laid his head down on your chest.

“I’m proud of you,” You said, running your hands through his hair.

“Even though I lost,” He muttered.

“You might’ve lost this one,” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, “But you’ve won so much more.”

He looked up at you, tired green eyes locking on yours, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Q.”

— — —

You were a ball of nerves.

You had never been the type to get nervous. Usually, you were so sure and confident in yourself, but there was something about flying across the continent to meet your boyfriend's family that had your stomach in knots. Quinn had assured you that there was nothing to worry about, that they already loved you.

Ever since you landed back in Michigan, it was like the weight of the world had been lifted off of Quinn’s shoulders. You guys stuck around for a couple of days after the loss, Quinn having to do exit interviews and pack up his things. Quinn only packed one bag to go back to the lake (oh, and his precious golf clubs), while you seemed to pack your whole closet. Quinn couldn’t help but laugh at you as you were quickly shifting clothes from your suitcase to his in the middle of the airport because your bag was over the weight limit.

“I should’ve told you that we could go shopping when we get here,” He said, one hand on the wheel and the other one intertwined with yours, “Get you a whole new closet to keep here for when we come back next summer.”

“Okay mister ‘i make eight point six million a year’,” You playfully rolled your eyes, “And who says I’ll be invited back next year?” Quinn gave you a look, “What?!”

“You’ll be invited back next year,” He chuckled, “There’s only ever been one person I didn’t want to invite back.”

“Hey, that’s not nice. Trevor is a nice kid,” Quinn shook his head with a laugh, “But I’m serious. What if your family doesn’t like me and doesn’t want me-”

“They are going to love you, Y/N,” Quinn pulled your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it, “They have been begging me to fly back so that they can meet you. My mom has been sending me texts and asking me about your favorite foods and hobbies and card games.”

You couldn’t help but blush and look down at your lap. You haven’t met Quinn’s family before, but from what he described, you can tell that they are very close. Quinn talks to his middle brother, Jack almost every day on the phone, and either texts Luke or calls him a couple times a week. He values his time with his family almost as much as he values his time on the ice with his teammates.

“And here we are,” Quinn announced as he pulled into the driveway of a beautiful two-story lake house. Excitement and anxiety filled your body, making your stomach turn. Your hands felt sweaty as Quinn jumped out of the driver’s seat and the front door opened at the same time. A boy with longish brown hair and a similar face to Quinn came rushing out of the house, barefoot and shirtless.

You watched as the two men embraced each other in a hug, another boy walking out of the house. He was slightly taller with curly hair, but had those same dark eyebags as Quinn. You slipped out of the car, walking up to the three boys who were engaged in a conversation. It was like Quinn had a sixth sense for you being near him, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, easing some of your nerves.

“And who might this be?” The long haired boy asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

“This would be my girl,” Quinn looked at you, “Y/N,” Heat arose in your cheeks as he looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon.

“Well I’m Jack,” The long haired boy said, holding his hand out to you. You chuckled nervously, shaking his hand, “And it's a pleasure to meet the girl that has my older brother drooling.”

“I am not drooling,” Quinn shot back.

“Basically are, Q,” The taller boy said, “I’m Luke.”

You shook his hand too, “It’s nice to meet you guys, finally. Quinn has told me so much about you. It’s good to see your healing well, Jack.”

“Thanks,” Jack nodded, “Been a long season but I’m glad I got this taken care of,” He massaged his shoulder, and you could see a slightly still puffy, pink scar, “But don’t think I can’t beat your ass at pool, Q.”

“I’d like to see you try, Rowdy.”

“Boys!” A woman called from the doorway. You looked around Luke to see a beautiful blonde woman standing there, her hands on her hips, “Let your brother and his girlfriend get settled before you start your pool tournament!”

“Yes mom,” Both Jack and Luke said. Quinn chuckled as he pulled you towards the front door, letting Jack and Luke bicker about who was going to carry your bags in.

You squeezed Quinn’s hand as you walked up to the matriarch of the Hughes family. You had read up on Ellen Hughes when you had met Quinn. She was an incredible woman, being a former hockey star herself and raising three incredible players. You felt another wave of anxiety rush over you as she looked you over, her eyes similar to Quinn taking you in. It felt like you were standing in front of a judge; a judge who was going to decide if you are worthy enough for her eldest son.

“Hey mom,” Quinn greeted her, leaving your side to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Good to see ya.”

“You too, baby,” Ellen said, and held her son at an arm’s length. She tsked, grabbing his chin and running a finger over the scar on his cheek, “That should’ve been a damn high stick.”

Quinn chuckled, “Not much we can do about it now. Besides, it adds to my cool factor.”

“Mhm,” Ellen nodded, and playfully rolled her eyes, looking back towards you.

You mouth felt dry and you stepped forward, holding your hand out to Ellen, “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Hughes.”

It was silent for a moment, probably not as long as you felt like it was, but it was long enough, before Ellen pulled you in for a hug.

“Handshakes are for business partners and old men,” Ellen told you as she gave you a squeeze. And just like that, all the tension you felt had melted away. Ellen pulled back and held you at arms length, the same way she did with Quinn, “My son seemed to be hiding you away,” She looked at Quinn, “Why were you hiding her away? You talk about her all the time.”

Quinn chuckled, grabbing you gently out of his mother’s hold, “Because I wanted to keep her for myself for just a bit longer. I know once I bring her home, I’ll be fighting for her attention.”

“Well, start fighting now,” Ellen said and you chuckled, “C’mon, I just finished making some sangria. The boys can take your stuff to your room.”

For several hours, you sat in the kitchen with Ellen, getting to know her. It started off with just small talk; asking where you are from, what are your parents' names, what do they do, what do you do for work, how did you meet Quinn. Then the conversation transitioned into how to make the perfect cheesecake, something Ellen was famous for in their neighborhood back in Michigan. Before you knew it, you and Ellen were making dinner side by side, while the boys sat out on the back patio with their dad, Jim, watching the grill.

“The boys used to volun-tell me to make raspberry cheesecake for every single end of season potluck,” Ellen shook her head with a laugh, “Oh I wanted to strangle them sometimes, cause of course, they never told more than a day or two in advance.”

“Oh of course not,” You giggled, “Quinn signed me up to bake cookies for one of the Canucks charity events. Told me at eight o'clock the night before that he needed me to make three dozen chocolate chip cookies.”

“Boys,” Ellen playfully rolled her eyes.

“What about boys?” Quinn asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Oh nothing,” Ellen said, wiping her hands on the towel thrown over her shoulder, “Y/N makes a better sous chef than you.”

“Taking my job?” Quinn looked at you. You nodded your head, “Traitor. This is my off-season gig,” He reached over to grab a cube of watermelon, but you swatted his hand back, “Hey!”

“This is for dinner,” You scolded him. Quinn walked around to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Quinn, your begging isn’t going to make me cave.”

“Please,” Quinn whined, “I lost game seven.”

“Two weeks ago!”

“I’m still wounded!”

“Fine,” You muttered, grabbing a cube of watermelon and turning in his arms to face him, “Because you lost game seven. . . two weeks ago,” You fed it to him and he smiled.

“Thanks baby,” He kissed your cheek before heading back out to the grill.

You shook your head, going back to placing balls of cookie dough on the baking sheet. It was quiet and you could feel Ellen’s stare on you as you worked, causing you to overthink every little movement you made. You paused, looking at the cookies before looking up at Ellen.

“Did I mess something up?” You asked, fear rising in your body.

“Hm? Oh, no,” Ellen shook her head, “It’s just. . . he never used to joke about the games he lost. In fact, it was almost like a taboo subject to bring up any losses around him. It’s. . . refreshing to see him like that.”

You blushed and nodded, going back to work, a small smile on your face.

Dinner went off without a hitch. Jim had grilled enough hamburgers, chicken and steak to feed a whole hockey team instead of just the six of you. You fell into comfortable silence as you watched the Hughes family interact with each other. It was like no time had passed by them at all, as if they weren’t spread across North America and in different time zones. You felt comfortable and at ease with them. And Quinn could sense that as he looked at you.

“Feeling okay?” He asked, nodding towards your barely touched plate.

“Yeah, I feel fine,” You smiled, picking up your fork, “Just. . . taking it all in,” You sighed. Quinn smiled and placed his hand on your thigh.

Ellen and Jim shared a knowing look across the table, watching you and their son interact. They were both taken aback when Quinn first mentioned a girl in his life. Quinn was always so focused on hockey that personal relationships (unless they were centered around hockey) came second to him. It wasn’t that Ellen feared that her son was going to be alone forever, she just knew the kind of man he was. She knew that hockey wasn’t going to be around forever, that there would come a time where Quinn would retire from the game, and she wanted him to have someone who would be there for when that time came. She wanted him to have someone for when he came home from those long roadies or hard fought games. She wanted him to have the kind of partner and relationship that she has with Jim.

When dinner was over, you and Quinn packed up the boat, putting a small cooler of seltzers and water, a couple of blankets and towels. Quinn gave you one of his sweatshirts to wear, knowing that it would get cold once the sun went all the way down. You sat next to Ellen as the boys and Jim, pushed away from the dock, ready to set out on a slow sunset cruise around the lake. Quinn took up the captain spot, while Jack and Jim navigated, Luke opted to sit next to you and his mom.

“So, who is the best driver?” You asked, looking at the three Hughes boys.

“Oh for sure me,” Jack scoffed.

“You only have one functioning arm,” Luke pointed.

“It wasn’t chopped off,” Jack rolled his eyes, “I can still use my hands.”

“Whatever you say, Bucky Barnes.”

You giggled and looked at Ellen, “They always like this?”

“Got worse with age,” Ellen sighed, “I was a little worried when they all went into the NHL. I have known some families that the competition gets the better of them, and they don’t talk anymore. But not these three. I think if anything, they talk more now than they ever had.”

You smiled, “Quinn talks about them all the time. He has me record their games so he can watch them back after his.”

Ellen’s heart swelled at your words, “He told them about you first,” You blushed, “Jack can’t keep a secret to save his life, and he texted me asking if I knew that Quinn had a girlfriend and I said no, and then Jack launched into this whole story that Quinn told them about you,” Ellen chuckled, “When Quinn told us about you, I told him I already knew.”

“What did he say then?” You asked.

“He said ‘of course Jack told you’,” You laughed and Ellen smiled, “It meant a lot to Jack that you sent him flowers after his surgery, and Luke when you sent some after his Calder nomination. They won’t admit that, but I know it.”

“They mean a lot to him,” You gestured towards your boyfriend and his brothers who were sitting at the front of the boat, “So they mean a lot to me too.”

Quinn glanced at you from where he sat, a smile on his face as you talked to his parents. His parents were two of the most important people in his life. He valued their opinion on almost everything, so it meant something to see you so easily getting along with them. His heart felt warm when he heard your laughter at a, no doubt, embarrassing story his dad was telling.

“So when are you going to propose?” Jack said, pulling Quinn out of his trance.

“What?”

“You got a ring yet? I bet you got a ring already.”

“Huh?”

“You’re going to marry her!” Jack exclaimed, “And don’t even lie, I can see it. I have a sixth sense for these things.”

“Yeah, and I talk to ghosts,” Quinn rolled his eyes. But his younger brother was right. Even though you and him had only been dating for six months, Quinn had already imagined proposing to you, getting married, buying a house, and hopefully, having a family. Quinn had never felt this way about someone before, and he would be lying if he wasn’t a bit scared of his feelings, but one look at you and all those fears melted away.

“Whatever man,” Jack waved him off, “As long as I get to be the best man, I won’t complain.”

“And who says you will be the best man?” Luke asked, “If anything, I think it would be me. I never broke his xbox controller.”

“Luke, you’re literally like seven,” Jack scoffed, “It won’t be you.”

“I’m twenty.”

The sun was completely down by the time you guys had made it back to the dock. Quinn expertly parked the boat in the hoist, and helped you out, before raising it back up. Jack and Luke had run back to the house, shouting something about getting a fire started, Ellen and Jim walking hand in hand behind them. You stood on the dock, taking in the dark lake in the final strands of light from the sky.

“No wonder you guys run away to this place at the end of the season,” You said, “It’s so peaceful here. I love it and I’ve only been here a couple of hours.”

Quinn chuckled, “It feels like this is the one place on earth where I can be just Quinn Hughes. Not the hockey player or the captain of the Canucks. Just Quinn.”

You turned around, draping your arms around his neck, “Well I like it, Just Quinn,” He smiled at you, his hands resting on your hips, “Thank you for bringing me here. For letting me into your life.”

“Of course,” Quinn’s voice was full of sincerity as his thumbs brushed over your hip bones, “Thank you for being in my life. You’ve made me a better person.” You tilted your head up slightly, placing a kiss on his lips. One of his hands cupped your cheek, while the other one tangled in your hair, deepening the kiss. When you pulled apart for air, you rested your forehead against his, wanting to just stand in his embrace for a moment longer.

“Hey lovebirds!” You broke apart, like two teenagers being caught by your parents. But instead of your parents, it was Jack, “Quit sucking face! We’re making smores!”

“He is such a child,” Quinn huffed. You laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the house.

“Yes but you love him.”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

You sat on Quinn’s lap, your legs dangling off the side of the chair, by the fire, as Jack and Luke argued about how toasted a marshmallow should be for the perfect smore. Ellen and Jim sat across the firepit from you and Quinn, enjoying having their kids back home. Your eyes were growing heavier by the minute, the heat from the fire, being in Quinn’s embrace and the exhaustion from traveling finally catching up to you. Quinn could feel your body growing heavier and heavier with sleep, his hand running up and down your back, a soothing motion that he knew would lull you to sleep.

“Tired?” He asked, looking at you.

“A bit,” You yawned, “But I don’t want to go to bed yet, having too much fun.”

“Just close your eyes,” Quinn whispered. You nodded, nuzzling your face into his neck. He leaned his cheek on top of your head. It wasn’t very long after that, that Quinn could feel your breathing start to slow, until you were sleeping in his arms. He looked down at you, a soft smile on his face, as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“She’s a keeper Quinn,” Jim said, raising his can of beer towards his son, “She’s gotta be a special one to deal with you.”

“Yeah,” Quinn said, his eyes still on your sleeping frame, “I’m not letting her go anytime soon.”

note: I am thinking of creating a tag list. Is that something y'all would want? also, requests are open!!

#qh43 #Quinn hughes #Quinn hughes imagine #Quinn hughes fan fic #Quinn hughes fan fiction #Quinn hughes x reader #Quinn hughes x oc #hockey fan fic #hockey imagine #hockey fan fiction

922 notes · View notes