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prael · 23 days ago

Text

Head-To-Head

Itzy Yuna & Artms/Loona Heejin x male reader smut [Commissioned fic]

Masterlist word count: 13,663 Kofi(donations/commissions)

There must be a reason. There's always a reason.

Yuna has this look in her eye when she's up to something, and she's always up to something.

She's the one who always has a plan to execute, a scheme to concoct, an idea to hatch. Everything usually aligns with a single, specific purpose: to be the best. To beat everyone at everything. It's why she's captain of the debate team and the track team. It's why she's the president of the student council. She's the type of person to do every possible extracurricular there is, and to dominate them all, no matter how small, no matter how seemingly irrelevant.

Though her every achievement is matched by another, and it eats at her like nothing else.

She's got this sweet smile, a gentle lilt to her voice, and the most charming laugh, but you've known her long enough to understand that none of it means she's on your side. Not always, anyway. Not until she's figured out what she wants. (You're not saying it's all fake. She is a sweet person, really. But there's something else behind her eyes that never disappears completely, no matter how hard she tries to cover it up.)

"Have you eaten today? You look a little pale," Yuna says, her brow furrowing with worry.

"I'm fine," you reply. "I had lunch. Just... a little tired."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to go hungry or overwork yourself. I'm sure it's tough being the principal's son. Are you eating your meals on time?"

Even for Yuna, this is a bit too much. A full-court press of concern, all focused on you. It feels like a trap. "Seriously, I'm okay. I'm just trying to work on a little project."

"Can I help?" She asks as she's already pulling her chair closer to you, so she's practically peering over your shoulder. "What are you working on?"

"It's not difficult. I'm fine. Thank you."

"Two minds are better than one," she playfully says as she leans in a little closer, her hair falling on your shoulder and touching your cheek. Then there's the smell, an expensive, intoxicating fragrance that sends a shiver down your spine and a warmth deep inside your gut.

"Yuna," you say, and even you're not quite sure if you're protesting or pleading. "I'm fine. You don't need to."

You feel her hand on your back. It's warm. Her thumb strokes back and forth. The pressure is gentle but persistent. "It's what friends are for, they help each other out," she says softly.

The touch is comforting, almost enough to make you melt right there on the spot. "I have to be able to do this alone. Thank you, really, thank you, but I'll be okay."

Her hand moves up, and now it's resting on the back of your neck. You can't help but tense up a little bit, and she must notice because her hand goes away.

"If you say so," Yuna says. "Then how about you let me buy you dinner later? It'll be my treat."

"No, no," you quickly reply. "You don't have to."

"Please, I insist. It'll make me feel better."

She's so convincing. That's the thing about Yuna. She has the kind of voice and manner that makes you believe whatever it is she's saying. You feel a strange sense of urgency, the way she says this, the way she's looking at you. You can't say no. "Okay. Thank you."

"See you after school." She stands up and walks out of the classroom.

That was weird. There's an explanation for it, but there's no way she could know, is there? She's always two steps ahead of everyone. How could she have found out about it when your father only told you the day before?

Your stomach growls.

Maybe you should have actually eaten lunch.

There are no classes at the moment, not with graduation right around the corner and the last of the finals coming to an end. You're sitting in the afternoon sun, enjoying the quiet before the evening rush. The breeze is cool and pleasant, and the grass is soft and plush. It's a good day to sit and relax.

There are not many people out in the courtyard, but you recognise the one that's been sitting out here almost as long as you have.

Heejin's sitting against a tree. Her hair is a little messy, as usual, but the soft breeze keeps it from being too unruly. Her clothes are a little loose as if she doesn't care about how she looks. She looks so peaceful, so tranquil, as she reads the book in her lap. She has her headphones on, listening to music and blocking out the rest of the world.

She's cute, you think.

You should probably stop staring.

(You're trying not to, you swear, but there's just something so... easy on the eyes, about Heejin.)

There's a sudden swirl of wind, a little stronger than before, that blows the trees. Leaves are swirling and fluttering, and the swaying of the branches breaks the shade that Heejin's tree provides. A ray of sunlight shines down on her, bright and beautiful. The glow makes her seem to shine, but she doesn't appreciate it, it blinds her for a moment, and you see the way her eyes narrow, and the annoyed look on her face.

It's enough to pull her out of her trance. Her gaze moves, and her eyes lock with yours. Her expression is flat and unamused. You can almost feel her judgement from here.

Oh. Yeah. Right. That's what you get for staring. You look away.

"Hey."

Oh no.

"Can we talk?"

You look up, and Heejin's standing over you. She's not smiling, but she's not frowning, either. Her face is neutral and expressionless, but you know it's because she doesn't have anything nice to say.

"Hi, uh," you nervously stammer. "What's up?"

She gestures at the space on the bench next to you. "Can I sit?"

"Go ahead." You slide a little bit to the side.

Heejin takes a seat. "I heard something from a friend, and I was wondering if it was true," she says. "I wanted to hear it from you directly, so I'm going to ask you."

"Yeah?"

Heejin looks at you straight on. She's not one to hold back. "Is your dad asking you to decide between me and Yuna for valedictorian?"

There it is. Confirmation of your suspicions. It makes little to no sense how it got out so quickly, or how it got out at all. The whole thing was meant to be a secret, after all. You hesitate to say anything.

She doesn't seem offended that you haven't answered. Instead, she says, "You don't have to tell me. I already know it's true."

You don't have an answer to that. Heejin is like this; one-sided conversations, like she has her own way of thinking about things. She's a bit blunt and brusque, and it's a bit jarring. It's the kind of honesty and openness that's a bit too raw to be considered polite.

"You don't seem very surprised," you finally reply.

Heejin gives you a shrug. "It's not surprising. The school's a bit of a mess. I'm not sure the principal has his shit together." She looks at you with a slight smirk. "No offence."

You let out a little chuckle. "Yeah. It's okay."

"Your dad's a little..." Heejin makes a vague gesture with her hand. "He's trying. He's trying to be a good principal, I can tell, but he's just a little, y'know, not great."

"I get it."

She lets out a soft laugh and shakes her head. "Well, he's your dad, I shouldn't shit talk him too much. But I mean, it's a pretty big deal that he's making his son pick between the top students. I think that's messed up, honestly."

"To be fair, there's no way to split the two of you," you try to explain. "You're putting up the exact same scores, all across the board. You're tied."

"Yeah. I know. I know." She leans back a bit on the bench and lets out a long sigh. "Yuna's tough to compete against. She always has her head in the game. She's got that look in her eye when she's on to you." Heejin looks at you. "You know what I mean, right?"

You nod your head in agreement. "I know."

"I've come to a conclusion: there's only one way to beat her. You know what I have to do, right?"

"...What?"

Heejin gives you a smirk and leans in. She rests her hand on your thigh. Your eyes go wide in shock, and she lets out a little giggle. "I have to convince you to let me be valedictorian." Her fingers squeeze the inside of your leg. "I can persuade you, right?"

Your hand snaps down to her wrist and holds her. "Heejin," you say, and your voice is a little shaky. "What are you—"

"Don't play dumb, I've seen the way you look at me," Heejin interrupts. "I see it, the way you're checking me out. I'm hot, right? You can say it, I don't mind."

She's such a straight shooter, there's no other way to describe her. There's no double entendre or sneaky little insinuation or subtle implication. It's just plain and simple. Heejin says exactly what she wants, no more, no less. There's something attractive about that. Something... exciting.

But this is a lot to process, especially when her hand's on your leg.

"I... um, I," you stutter. "I..."

"What the hell is this!?"

Oh no.

The voice makes the two of you jump a little. Yuna's marching up to the both of you, and she doesn't look happy. You let go of Heejin's hand, but it doesn't make much difference. Her hand's still on you, after all.

"Are you really stooping so low?" Yuna demands, pointing at Heejin.

"Talking to my friend? That's stooping low, now?" Heejin asks, raising an eyebrow. Her voice is casual and indifferent, almost as if she's goading her. "I can't talk to my friend anymore?"

"Get your hands off him, Heejin. It's not a good look." Yuna crosses her arms. "Don't you have any self-respect?"

Heejin lets go of your leg, but she's as unflustered as ever. "I was just talking to my friend. I can talk to him, can't I?"

"He has a lot on his mind. He doesn't need you distracting him."

Heejin rolls her eyes and starts on the defensive. "I wasn't doing anything like that." She stands up. "He has enough brains to think for himself." She looks at you, and there's a little smirk on her lips. "Right?"

You're about to reply, but Yuna steps between you and Heejin, the skirt resting on her wide hips in front of your face and blocking your view of Heejin. She's staring at Heejin. Her eyes are narrowed. "I don't know what you were doing, Heejin. But it wasn't just talking."

"I was giving him my suggestion," Heejin answers.

Yuna shakes her head. "He doesn't want your 'suggestions', whatever that is."

"He can speak for himself, y'know? He's a smart kid," Heejin says, a little more sharply. "If I wanted his attention, he'd give it to me. He knows what he wants. Don't you?" She asks, looking over at you with a little twinkle in her eye.

"I..." You swallow. It's a bit difficult to think when there's so much going on. "I..."

Heejin laughs a little at how you're a little lost for words. Yuna, though, is not nearly as amused. She steps closer to Heejin and leans in to say something. You don't hear what she's saying. It's too quiet for you to make it out. Heejin listens, and her smirk fades.

"Fine. Whatever," Heejin says. She walks away without a single glance at you.

"Wait," you say to her, standing up. You're about to follow her, but Yuna steps in the way again, and her expression makes you stop.

"What's wrong?" Yuna asks, blinking her wide, innocent eyes. "Is something the matter?"

"I was just gonna say goodbye," you reply. It seems silly to try to explain this, and Yuna is looking a bit impatient. You decide not to say more. "Never mind."

She smiles and links arms with you. She's a lot more close than she's usually been. She's pressed up to your side, her arm entwined with yours, her chest pressed up against your shoulder, soft and warm. You try to ignore it. You're trying not to read too much into things. But it's a little tough when Yuna's the one being affectionate like that. "I was thinking," she says, "we can grab some pizza for dinner if you don't mind."

You take a final glance at Heejin as she walks away. Her backpack is slung over one shoulder. Her headphones are back on. Her head is held high as she walks with a strut. Those long bare legs protrude from under her skirt.

Yuna pulls at you. "Come on."

Dinner is, well, dinner. You and Yuna talk, about the usual things. You both chat about what's next after graduation and then she tells you about her family and how her sister has been annoying her lately. You listen. You nod. You talk. You eat. You talk again. It's a little weird, but it's nice, and the pizza's great. You're grateful.

But you know it's all a game.

If Heejin knows the power you've been handed, then Yuna does, too. And if both of them know, then the only way to get ahead of each other is by being more persuasive. Heejin had a... direct method. Yuna, though, she's more subtle, but you're sure her intentions aren't any less self-centred.

She turns the conversation to questions, focusing on you, rather than her. She's batting her eyelashes as she asks you questions about the school, about your family, about your friends. It's all innocent enough, but you're not stupid. You've known Yuna long enough to understand how she's playing you. And she's good at it. It's almost too easy to fall under her spell, to fall for her charms. The way she leans closer to you. How her fingers run across your palm, tracing little circles. The way she laughs at all your jokes, even the ones you know are dumb. How her smile is always on her lips. How her eyes sparkle whenever she's listening. The way she tilts her head and pouts when she doesn't quite get something.

"You're so lucky to be the principal's son," she says as if it isn't an excuse to bring up the whole reason she's even sitting with you. "Must be fun having all the connections."

"It's not a big deal." You shrug. "He just treats me like a normal student." Mostly. "I don't get anything out of it. He's a little strict on me, honestly."

"I don't know, there must be some perks to it," Yuna insists. "I'd kill to be able to have that kind of privilege."

"Yeah? Like what?" you ask. You take another sip of your drink.

"I don't know." She runs a hand through her hair, brushing the strands out of her face, and lets out a little laugh. "You get to be first for everything, don't you?"

You shrug. "Not really."

"And you can probably flunk a class and just make your dad pass you anyway." She winks. "No?"

"Not how that works," you reply. You're getting the sense she's trying to work up to a point.

"Okay, maybe not, but there's got to be something good." She smiles. "You've got any secrets?"

You raise an eyebrow. "What kind of secrets?"

"Oh, come on," she playfully insists. "I bet your dad's told you all the juicy gossip about the teachers and staff, right? Or maybe even about students?"

You don't answer. She takes that as an affirmative.

"Oooh, you're holding out on me. I wanna know!" Yuna grabs your hands and leans closer to you. Her shirt hangs low on her neck, exposing a little more cleavage than you're comfortable seeing. "Tell me a secret. Something interesting."

"Like what?" you ask. You know you probably should lean away, but it feels a bit too rude to do that.

"Anything. Something fun." She squeezes your hand. "I promise I won't tell. Come on. Just between the two of us."

You feel like she's closing in on you. You can smell the faint scent of her perfume, just like earlier in the afternoon, and her eyes are twinkling, her lips pouting ever so slightly. The warmth of her skin against yours, the way her thumb is rubbing your palm. "Okay, fine." You look around, making sure no one else can hear. "The art teachers, she, uh..."

"Yeah?"

"She's getting a divorce, turns out she's into women."

"Oh my god." She blinks and covers her mouth in surprise. "No way."

"It's true," you say. "There's been a whole thing, her husband found out about an affair, it's all messy. Don't tell anyone, okay? I wasn't meant to tell."

"I won't," she says, a coy smile on her face. "Don't worry. I can keep secrets. Your secret's safe with me." She leans back, but her hand doesn't let go of yours. "But it's not just gossip, right? Does your dad ever, you know..." Her other hand joins her first, her palms rubbing your knuckles, her skin warm and soft against yours, her fingers stroking and massaging you. "Ask you for advice? Maybe you have some sway on how things get run at school, huh? I'm just curious, I swear."

It's an obvious question, and it's the kind that you expected she might try to ask, eventually. "Sometimes, yeah."

She nods. Her hands don't stop. They continue to caress and stroke, her touch gentle and comforting, but also firm, persistent, almost suggestive. The sensation makes you tingle a little, a little buzz running through your body. "That must be fun," she murmurs. "So has he asked for any advice lately?"

You know exactly what she wants, but she hasn't quite asked for it directly. You decide to tease her. "Yeah. I guess he's asked a bit recently."

"Oh, really?" She leans forward again, her lips just inches away from yours. "Like what?"

"About, uh, some stuff," you answer vaguely. You can't tell her exactly, you want to hear her ask it.

"Maybe I could help. Maybe we can talk about it and figure it out together." Her hand's moving up from yours and now she's stroking up your forearm, slowly rubbing it. Her touch feels so good, and her eyes are locked on yours, unblinking, her gaze focused solely on you. She bites her lip a little. "If he asked about something like... I don't know..."

You smile. She knows. And she's playing coy, pretending that she doesn't know what she wants. You can't let that stand. You can't let her get away with it. "Spit it out."

"Maybe..." Her eyes glance to the side. "...who to choose for valedictorian?"

It's about time she asks. "And what do you think?" you ask, a sly grin creeping up on you. "You got a suggestion?"

Yuna blushes a little and lets out a giggle. "Me."

"You?"

"Yeah. I think I'd be the best fit. Don't you?" She bats her eyelashes. "My scores are the best—

"—Joint best."

"And my extra-curricular; I have the most—"

"—Joint most."

"And I'm the president, captain, leader of—"

"—Joint leader, captain and president."

"Are you just gonna keep doing that?" Yuna pouts.

"Doing what?"

"Joint," she says, imitating you, her voice lowering. "Joint. Joint. Joint. I mean, yeah, I get it. But you can't say that Heejin is really better than me, is she?"

You shrug.

"Is she? I don't think she is. I know her grades are as good as mine, but she doesn't put in as much work as me. I've been putting my blood, sweat and tears into all these clubs, all the things I'm in. She's just... doing things because she has nothing better to do. I'm actually trying, I'm working so hard, and I know that's worth something." She gives you a look that's somehow innocent and imploring, while simultaneously persuasive. "I deserve to be valedictorian."

You're not going to argue with her, she does deserve it. They both do.

Yuna keeps going, "You can help me, you know. We're friends. I've always been nice to you, haven't I? Do this for me and I'll owe you. Big time. I mean it. I will be very, very, grateful."

She trying so desperately to entice you, and she's doing her very best. The way her eyes twinkle and flutter as she speaks to you. The way her voice goes a little high-pitched and squeaky, the way she pouts her lips and widens her eyes. She leans so far over the table that she hits her drink and sends it tumbling. The glass shatters as it hits the floor and the two of you flinch from the sound.

"Oh my god!" Yuna gasps. "I'm so sorry, oh my god!" She jumps off her chair. The staff are quickly making their way over, and Yuna immediately apologises to them, a look of utter embarrassment on her face. "I'm sorry, it was an accident!"

The staff wave it off and start to clean up. You offer to help, but they refuse, so instead, you think it best to pay and call an end to dinner.

"That's so embarrassing, oh my god," Yuna groans. She covers her face with her hands and shakes her head. "I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it, it was an accident." You smile. The sun has almost set and the sky has turned a dusky orange and purple. The cool breeze in the evening air is pleasant and relaxing. You let out a sigh. You feel refreshed, and there's something to appreciate about the quiet. But the night's coming in, and you know you have to go back. "I'll walk you home," you offer.

Yuna smiles at you gratefully, and the two of you make the trip together.

The lady's dorms aren't far from your own. You're about to leave and head home when Yuna suddenly grabs you by the wrist. "Wait, don't go yet."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just want to give you something before you go."

"Like what?" you ask. "I already owe you dinner, so..."

"No, no, don't worry about that. This is something different." Yuna steps close to you and wraps her arms around you. You tense up, unsure, but you let her embrace you, her arms around your waist and her hands against your back. "A hug."

"A hug?"

"Yup. A big hug." Yuna rests her chin against your chest, looking up at you. Her eyes are twinkling and her smile is sweet. She squeezes you tighter and leans into you. "For being a good friend. For listening to me talk about all the stupid things in my life. For coming out to dinner with me." Her hand rubs against your back. "And for being so nice."

"Um..." You're a little taken aback by this sudden act of kindness. You wrap your arms around her, too, hugging her back. You're not quite sure if this is a bit much. Yuna can be friendly, but this feels a little excessive, even for her. She's holding onto you, her body pressed up against yours, and it's making you a little uncomfortable. "Thanks. That's, uh, really nice. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Yuna murmurs and her voice is low and soft, her eyes staring right at yours, unblinking. Her body is so soft against yours, her skin feels smooth and warm, and her embrace feels like it's melting into your own. You can't help but notice her body, her curves, the way her hips and chest seem to press into you. It feels like she's trying to make you notice. "So... do you think you'll help me?"

"Help you?" you ask.

"About... y'know..." Yuna tilts her head a little and leans back to look up at you, but her hands stay firmly planted on your back. She smiles playfully. "The valedictorian thing?"

"I, um, I haven't really—"

"—thought about it? Yeah. Okay." She pouts. "Do you need more time?"

"Maybe," you admit. "I haven't really been—"

"—been thinking about it. I know." Yuna steps back and lets you go. She smiles at you again, but this time, it seems a bit more... sultry? Seductive? "Okay, fine. But you'll have my eternal gratitude if you help me, I swear."

She turns and skips into her building, and you stand there for a second, watching as the doors close behind her. Then, you turn and start walking back to your dorm. It's dark out and you have a long walk, so you decide to take the scenic route. You pass by the school fields, past the baseball and soccer grounds, and then you pass the gym and pool buildings. Finally, you cross the courtyard, heading for your dorm.

You're about halfway across when you notice a figure on the benches. The same figure as earlier.

"Aren't you cold?" you call out, walking up to Heejin. She's still in her uniform, but she doesn't seem to be wearing anything to protect her from the night chill. She's still sitting there, legs crossed and head resting on one hand.

She looks up at you as you approach. "A little, yeah."

"Why are you out here?"

"Why not?" She shrugs. "It's nice. Peaceful."

You can't argue with that. You look up at the night sky and take a deep breath, letting the cool air fill your lungs. The silence is nice. It feels like the world has stopped, the universe has paused to give you a moment of quiet. "You can still enjoy it while wearing a jacket, maybe a hoodie. Switch out that skirt for some sweats."

Heejin smiles. "You sound like my dad."

"I didn't know your dad was such a smart guy."

"He isn't," she jokes. She lets out a soft laugh, and then she looks back up at you. "So why are you out here?"

"Walking home. Passing by."

"Did she take you somewhere nice?" Heejin suddenly asks with a knowing smirk. There's no malice in her voice. If anything, she sounds amused.

"Dinner. Pizza."

"Sounds romantic," she remarks, with the tone of someone who means the exact opposite. "Did it work? Are you persuaded?" She leans back on the bench, stretching her arms out and spreading them wide across the back. Her position exposes more of her, the skirt rising higher. You can see the smooth curves of her legs, the muscles that have developed from years of track and dance. They look inviting.

"It was just dinner. We talked. That's all," you explain.

"Just talked," Heejin repeats. She's clearly sceptical. "Just talked," she repeats again, emphasising it.

"Just talked," you reaffirm.

"Sure. Fine," Heejin says with a playful roll of her eyes. She leans forward now, clasping her hands together and settling them between her bare knees. She leering at you, now. Her smirk is suggestive, even seductive. It feels like she's toying with you, almost mocking you. "What did she offer you?"

"Uh, nothing. Just that she would owe me one."

"Yeah, she would owe you one," Heejin drawls, nodding her head patronisingly. "Bet she said it with real suggestive eyes, too, and she touched you, maybe held your arm or something, right? Like, really obviously trying to imply she'll fuck you if you made her valedictorian?"

Your throat runs dry and Heejin just laughs to herself.

"At least I know what I'm up against," Heejin remarks. She stands up, slings her bag over her shoulder, and steps closer to you. She's looking straight at you. Her expression is stern, determined, and serious. Her eyes are narrowed and intense, staring into yours, penetrating through you. "Here's my counter-offer: I'll suck you off, right now. We'll go to your room, you sit down on the bed, take off your pants, I'll drop to my knees and blow you."

Holy shit, Heejin's really serious. She doesn't blink, her gaze remains focused on you.

"Then you pick me. You make me valedictorian."

You're silent. Speechless. There's no subtlety, no suggestion, no implication, no hinting. There's a credit to be given for honesty. You can respect the fact that she's not hiding what she wants, or trying to play games or manipulate you. It's refreshingly direct and simple. And yet, it's Heejin. The girl who quietly sits in class and aces every test. Who beats everyone's times in track. Who performs in competitions as a hobby. Everyone admires her. Everyone wants to be her friend. To have her say that, to offer that...

"You're blushing," Heejin says, smirking. She steps even closer, standing on her tip-toes, bringing her mouth closer to your ear, her hot breath hitting you and making you shiver. "Take me to your dorm," she whispers. "I'll make you cum until you can't even think anymore."

There's not an ounce of shame in her. Not the slightest hint of guilt. She's absolutely certain that she's in control and that you're weak and malleable, willing to succumb to her. She's got no doubt in her mind that she's completely dominating you, that she's utterly in charge.

Yuna throws herself onto her bed, feeling incredibly pleased with herself. Step one is complete. She picked out a cute outfit that looked innocent, but still enticing. She chose a restaurant that had a casual atmosphere, but still allowed them to sit and talk comfortably. She held his hand, she stared deeply into his eyes, she smiled at him and laughed at all his stupid jokes. And yes, it was embarrassing when she accidentally spilt her drink, but it worked out! He walked her home and gave her a hug, which was perfect. A perfect opportunity to tempt him with her body, and show off her curves. A preview of what he can have if he obeys. If he bends to her will.

Ryujin is listening to all the details of how Yuna thinks she has you wrapped around her little finger. Ryujin can't help but shake her head at her friend's naivety. Sure, maybe she got a few moments where she could entice you, but Ryujin knows you can't be won over by cheap tricks and flirtatious looks. What you need is someone more bold. Someone bolder, someone who will make the first move, and then take charge.

"...and then we hugged, and he was totally into me, I felt his heart beat faster, he was sooo excited," Yuna enthusiastically tells Ryujin. "And then he was just staring at me as I walked up the steps. He was, like, ogling my legs."

"Wow," Ryujin answers, with little enthusiasm. "Did he agree to make you valedictorian?"

"Kinda," Yuna answers. "Well, no. But he will. Trust me."

"You think that's enough? Empty promises and some light flirting?" Ryujin shakes her head and lets out a dismissive laugh. "Bare minimum."

"What? Do you want me to just ask him outright if he wants to bang? That's not how people work, they aren't direct like that," Yuna protests.

"You think Heejin is just gonna do the same? You think Heejin's gonna hold his hand and giggle at his shitty puns?"

"Yes," Yuna insists.

"Nope," Ryujin immediately corrects. "If she finds out that you took him out to dinner and tried to flirt with him, she's going to do something about it."

"Like what?"

"She's going to beat you. She's going to be bold, brash, and blunt, and she's going to seduce him so hard he doesn't have a choice," Ryujin confidently replies.

Yuna scoffs. "Yeah, right. Heejin's gonna seduce him? Please." She rolls her eyes and waves a dismissive hand. "She's pretty but there's no way she's going to throw herself at him."

Even as Yuna says it, the doubt creeps into her mind. Heejin did have her hand on your lap. And her legs... she wasn't exactly covering much. What if she takes it a step further? That uncertainty turns into something else, and Yuna starts to feel a little paranoid. "Oh my god," she says, a frown on her face, sitting up as if she's suddenly had a revelation. "So, hypothetically, maybe, just maybe, she somehow finds out that I went to dinner with him. Maybe, hypothetically, she decides to act, like, bold and seduce him."

Ryujin gives a long sigh and shakes her head. "That's exactly what she's gonna do. There's only one person on earth who cares about accolades as much as you, and that's Heejin. She's going to get what she wants, and that's graduation as valedictorian, even if she has to give up her dignity to do it." Ryujin tilts her head and adds, as if it were obvious, "You should be in his room right now."

"Fuck."

Yuna left the dorm immediately, and she is walking that same route you did just ten minutes earlier, her entire body charged with a sense of urgency, her heart pumping with nerves. She's trying to stay calm, but there's no way to not admit that this is, potentially, bad. Very bad.

The anxiety gnaws at her, and as she rushes through the darkness, she starts to wonder what Heejin might be doing right now, what she might say to him, and the kind of persuasion she might use. She doesn't trust Ryujin's words, no, but they keep echoing in her head.

'She's going to be bold, and brash, and blunt, and she's going to seduce him so hard he won't have a choice.'

The thought strikes her, the terrible feeling of just not knowing what's going on in your room. Yuna wants to bash down your door, throw herself in, and see for herself. It's driving her a little crazy.

Yuna takes a moment to process what this could mean for her, what could possibly be going on behind the walls, in the building ahead of her. She can't just walk in alone, no, it's the men's dorm. But... she overheard it once. A few guys were jealous that you had the solo dorm, the big room on the bottom floor at the end of the building. So she could probably work out which window is yours. Then, well, one look inside to see you relaxing, hopefully, alone...

Yuna steps off the path and begins to round the building. It's dark and quiet out, but that just makes her feel like it's even more indecent and dirty that she's finding excuses to spy on you. There are no lights on in the rooms above, it looks like everyone else in the building is either asleep or has gone out for the night. Your window, though, your room... there's definitely a light on.

She draws close, and when she rounds the corner, she peeks up. There's you, just standing in the room. Just the sight of you alone gives her relief.

Until the peeks a little further. Her eyes go wide and her breath catches in her throat.

It's Heejin.

She's on her knees, still wearing her uniform, but with the top few buttons popped, and her hair tied up in a ponytail. You're looking down at her, eyes fixed on hers. One hand's in her hair, your fingers running through it, stroking her hair. You look so pleased, so satisfied. So relaxed and comfortable.

Heejin's hands are on your hips, and Yuna notices her long, elegant fingers pressing into you. She looks so confident, so smug. So in control. So in charge. Yuna can feel the rage inside.

How could this be possible? This can't be happening. There's no way. There's no way.

Heejin grabs your hip and drags you closer, her other hand sliding up under your shirt. Her nails lightly scrape against your skin. She smiles when you flinch, and the expression on your face shows you're enjoying yourself.

Under her breath, Yuna mutters, "No fucking way. She's..."

She's sucking your cock.

Yuna stares. She stares and she can't stop. She can't tear her eyes away from the sight of Heejin, her lips around your length, taking you deep into her mouth. You're looking down at her, playing with her hair. The look of bliss on your face is impossible to ignore.

Heejin's skilled, Yuna realises with a growing sense of horror. She knows her way around it, with her lips circling the tip, tongue swirling and coating you in saliva, and her lips then easing your length further inside her. It's so fluid and smooth, and she's only using her mouth. How good must it feel?

She can imagine it. The hot, moist mouth on you, the soft, wet insides, the pressure of a mouth wrapping around you. The hum of approval as she continues to tease and play. The slurping and slobbering sounds. How it would look like her taking you deeper and deeper, her forehead touching the base, and how her throat would tighten around you.

Yuna feels her body ache. She's watching her position as valedictorian be sucked away down Heejin's throat. The girl whose a joint first, the same as her, is all but sealing her own victory with your climax. Her eyes are wide, staring at the scene in front of her, her fingers dug into the palm of her hand. This is absurd, impossible, unbelievable.

Heejin can't win like this. There's no way Heejin's better than her. Is she?

There's only one way she can stop it.

Heejin's sucking your brains out through your dick, making your spine tingle and your breath come in jagged and short gasps. It's nothing but pleasure for you. There are no thoughts, no conscious mind, just the sensation in your core.

Her mouth slides up and down, dragging up your shaft, her tongue sliding along it, licking and tasting the salty mixture of precum and spit. She draws her lips up your head, right to the tip, where she teases you with her tongue before plunging you back into the depths of her throat.

God, it feels amazing, every second of it. You can hear her gagging, choking, the sounds are so vivid and raw that you can't help but groan, tightening your grasp of her ponytail, just like she asked you to. She likes it. You can tell she likes it by the way she inhales every time you pull her close and shove yourself into her. Her nails dig into your ass, dragging you closer to her as you press up against the back of her throat, and she's showing no sign of relenting.

This can't last, though. This kind of sensation, the ecstasy and passion and tension, has a breaking point, and you know your orgasm is coming. Heejin does too, because her pace starts picking up, and her head bobs faster up and down your shaft, her throat choking on your head, her mouth so tight and warm around you.

You fight it, the urge, the need to finish. You want this to last forever, you want it to keep going, the feeling of her lips, her throat, the sloppy noises of her sucking you dry. But the orgasm is inevitable. Your hands instinctively drag her to you, and you can feel the tremble in your hips, the buildup in your balls and the tightness in your pelvis.

But it's all fucking ruined. A bang on the door.

"What the fuck is that?" Heejin asks, pulling you from her mouth with a sloppy 'pop'.

The bang on the door happens again, more frantic this time.

"The fuck do they think they're—" Heejin groans in frustration. She wipes the cum and spit from her lips and chin with the back of her arm. "You have to tell whoever that is to fuck off."

"I, uh, yeah." You pull up your boxers, leaving your trousers open, you prepare to peek your head around the door and let the asshole who's ruining the moment know to get lost. You pull it open to just a crack, enough to bark out a bunch of curses, but you're taken aback by what you see:

Yuna.

"Yuna?" You blink a few times, trying to make sure it's not some delusion. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I— uh," Yuna stutters, looking a bit uncomfortable. She takes a deep breath, composes herself, and looks you directly in the eye. "Can I come in? I need to talk to you."

"Um, now's not a really good time." You glance over your shoulder, and you see Heejin perched on the edge of your bed. Her legs are crossed and her skirt is so far up her leg it's revealing the entirety of one thigh and just a little of her ass. She has her school shirt pulled a bit too low, giving an even better glimpse of her cleavage.

"It won't take a minute," Yuna quickly says. She tries to give you an imploring, and a pleading, look. "Please? I have an offer for you."

"Okay, um." You glance over your shoulder again. Heejin raises her eyebrows, looking amused. You bite your lip.

Yuna is staring at you with as much focus and persistence as she can muster. "I promise my offer is better than hers."

How the fuck do these girls seem to know everything? "Yuna—"

"I know she's in there, don't play dumb."

There's no denying it now, she knows.

"What the fuck are you doing in his room?" Yuna calls out to Heejin.

"Thought that was obvious," Heejin replies from behind you.

"You're—"

"Doing exactly what you wanted to do!" Heejin calls out to interrupt her.

Yuna goes quiet for a second, and then she holds out her hands. "Let me in."

"Yuna, listen, we're kinda in the middle of something," you protest.

"You were. You aren't anymore. I came along and now you have an offer to listen to, right? So let me in." Yuna is insistent. "Now."

You sigh and take a step back to let her pass.

She wastes no time. She walks right past you and into your room, heads straight for Heejin, and glares down at her. "So, is this how you planned to win? Sucking him off? A blowjob? Really?"

Heejin smirks and doesn't seem ashamed. If anything, it almost seems like a challenge.

"Okay. Whatever," Yuna goes on. "We're here now. We're all three together. And—" She turns her head and looks right at you. "—you're choosing one of us. Right here, right now." Yuna drops to her knees, her dark eyes locked onto yours as she pleads through them. She unbuttons her shirt completely and lets it fall off her arms. Underneath is a lingerie bra that holds her full breasts, its fabric thin and mostly see-through. "I'm better than her," she pleads.

There's no shame, no embarrassment. She's offering up her body in the name of competition. Her confidence has outpaced her modesty, and she doesn't care. Her body is on display, and she's daring you to look.

"Not really convincing enough," Heejin says dryly, leaning back, with one eyebrow raised.

You're still reeling—utterly astonished by this whole situation—by how absurd it's become. Everything is escalating so quickly, and your mind can barely keep up. These two beauties are squaring off against each other, a contest of sex to see who gets the status they crave. They both want the valedictorian position. Both students with the best grades and perfect attendance managed to find time to lead school societies and run after-school clubs.

Now, they've come to you for the deciding vote. They are both offering up their bodies, their most valuable assets, to earn it. A bit silly. A strange plan.

There's this mixture of amusement and disgust on Heejin's face as she looks over Yuna. This sort of derisive curl of her lip, combined with a half-hearted roll of her eyes. "Wasn't sure you had it in you, to be honest." She lays back against the bed, adjusting her skirt, letting the hem rise even higher on her legs. "Don't get me wrong, I always had you pegged as a bit of a slut."

Yuna just about manages not to show her outrage. "Yeah? You're the whore spreading her legs."

Heejin gives a small laugh, and again she shrugs and doesn't seem fazed. It's like she's unbothered by the insult like it's little more than a light breeze against her skin. "Just playing the game. Just like you, right?"

"This is crazy," you announce. "If the principal found out you're both in my room—"

"—this stays between the three of us," Heejin says, standing up.

"Yeah," Yuna echoes. She's still on her knees, the straps of her lingerie hanging from her shoulders, the shirt thrown on the floor, her plump breasts bare and exposed. "We don't tell anyone what happens here."

"Fuck," you breathe out. "You're serious."

Both girls nod.

They both want it, and they're prepared to do anything to get it. This rivalry is such a natural part of who they are, and who they've always been. How neither was able to stop the other or to find a better way to resolve things, is all connected back to what they must think is inevitable about themselves. They aren't friends, the two of them. Heejin and Yuna, they also aren't simply just competitors—rivals—those words don't go far enough, to explain their relationship. It's one of such dedication and passion, such pride and achievement, that to have someone matching every accomplishment, every grade, every victory, must drive them mad.

You remember watching a nature program once, something about wildlife, some documentary explaining how two aspiring leaders of a pride ended up locked in a rivalry. Though you can't quite remember all the details, something about a rift forming and how things had spiralled out of control between them. If only there was a way for them to live in harmony, some animal expert would have said at the end of the show, sadly shaking his head.

You look at the two of them. Harmony is a million miles away.

Yuna takes you by the hand, pulling your fingers and inviting you to touch her. Her hands guide yours, moving them over the curve of her breasts, and her soft, warm, skin. Her chest rises and falls steadily under your palm, and you caress her, touch her, cup her. You move one hand up, running over the length of her neck, up her jaw, to her cheeks and her ears. You brush her hair out of the way with your thumb, and she shifts forward. Her dark eyes are staring up at you, and you feel a shock run through your body.

"I swear I'm so much better than her," Yuna promises, in the quietest voice you've ever heard. It's soft, but there's also an intensity to it, a persistence like a raindrop hitting stone. "Trust me."

Pursed lips near the tip of your cock. Yuna's warm breath kisses the tip. She moves her tongue up, licking across your head. She's different to Heejin, more tentative, slower, and focused entirely on the feeling. Her touch is more gentle, less ferocious and domineering. When she takes you into her mouth, you can feel the sensation of her carefully tracing your length with the tip of her tongue, coiling you up inside, making you tingle, sparks coursing through your spine.

Yuna is watching you closely, her gaze not straying from your face for one second, as if she's so eager to see your reactions to her touch. Her gaze is focused, and intense, and she appears satisfied with how you're enjoying yourself. It feels incredible. Something about the eye contact, her attentive and focused style, and the way her lips glide up and down with pure reverence, is driving you crazy.

Heejin is behind you, trying to draw your attention. One of her arms wraps around your torso, her hand stroking across your front, exploring and exploring, her fingernails dragging over you in teasing lines. The heat of her breath hits your ear, hot enough to make you shiver, and you suddenly feel her bite your lobe. She knows where to attack, and she starts raining kisses along the side of your neck. Small nips and nibbles. Up to your jaw, tracing lines of heat along your skin. On your ear, her soft, red lips, suckling, her teeth leave little marks. When she sees your eyes are still on Yuna, a throaty, husky, disapproving purr in your ear. "Oh no you don't. Pay attention to me."

Her slender fingers tug at your jaw, turning you towards her. Kisses rain down on your mouth, not satisfied until her lips are plastered across yours. She strokes the tip of her tongue across your own, inviting you to taste, to explore. Her kiss makes you quiver inside, almost melting you, making every part of you tremble and weaken.

But it's when Yuna caresses you further, her hands finding your ass and grabbing tight, dragging your cock deep into her throat. The sound that erupts from you only spurs her on further.

You hear Heejin murmur quietly into your ear while running her hand through your hair, "Enjoying this?"

You swallow, taking a moment to compose yourself. You open your mouth to speak, only for your tongue to trip over an answer.

"I'm sure she's great and all," Heejin continues, "but you want the best, right?" She plants another kiss on your mouth, giving you a tempting taste, and keeping you close. "You must miss how much better I am."

Yuna's efforts begin to escalate, hearing the conversation continue. Determination has been written over her face. Now, however, her eyes dart up to glare at her competitor. It's cute, seeing how hard she's trying.

Heejin slips one of her hands under Yuna's cheek, her nails scratching lightly, scraping down her chin. She hooks them underneath and guides the girl's head, forcing Yuna's movement to stop. You can feel the subtle vibrations of Yuna letting out an annoyed groan.

"I bet you're not even close, are you? You can't cum from this, right?" Heejin's voice is soft and saccharine, dripping with mock sincerity.

"You're trying to piss her off," you point out.

"Good," Heejin drawls. "Does it piss her off, knowing that it's me who can finish the job?"

A frustrated Yuna ducks her head free from Heejin and takes you back into her mouth, starting anew, trying to prove something to someone. She's different now, you notice. Feistier, and more insistent. No more gentle, careful movements. She's moved on from worship, now charging through to ravish. She takes you hard, quickly, and thoroughly. There is an unrelenting pace to her. No patience, no playing, just the relentless need to do. She pulls and pushes, pressing and sucking, burying her nose at the base.

You wince at the heat, the slickness, how her tongue now massages you as her lips firmly embrace you. She's gripping hard at your ass, driving you onto her tongue. The warmth of her breath against your flesh is impossible to ignore. Hot breaths, soft and humid, leave goosebumps on your skin.

This new attitude has gotten the better of you. You can't help but give in. Threads of pleasure entwine up the length of your spine, each sharp twist of Yuna's mouth drawing the sweetest song out of you. Heejin has stolen your voice as a chorus is crawling up your throat, and you can barely hope to keep it down.

There's no stopping you, the finish is inevitable. You move to pull out, to stop yourself, yet Yuna swallows around you in response, taking you deeper into her waiting throat. Not a hint of an intention to let go. No, Yuna refuses to stop until you've emptied every single drop inside.

Heejin still won't relent, either. She kisses a constellation on your shoulder, up the side of your neck, her sweet caresses are lingering, teasing your flesh, dancing fingertips that burn in the best way. It doesn't do anything to soothe the tension inside.

You fill her mouth, flooding her with thick ropes. You can't imagine what it might feel like, all that hot fluid sliding down into her stomach. Once, then twice, then a third time, you spill inside, shuddering and groaning in release.

Yuna drags a heavy breath. It's not even over, as she's already trying to take you deeper. "Mm," Yuna moans, her voice trembling. She nuzzles forward, eagerly coaxing what's left, accepting the remaining throbs against her tongue, swallowing when she has to. You shiver at how she seems so hungry for every drop, her strength only seems to grow the more she drinks. She finally lets you out of her mouth with a pop and flashes a grin.

"So nice of her to finish what I started," Heejin quips and Yuna glares at her. "After I did all the work."

"Maybe you should've finished the job instead of talking shit," Yuna throws back.

Heejin tilts her head a little. "I have much better ideas. Want to see?" She smirks.

Heejin sits on the edge of your desk, reaching out to take your hand. She presses your palm to her chest, just above her breast, her uniform top exposing a tantalizing window of skin.

You look at her. Her eyes. The shape of her face, the sharp lines of her jaw, the elegant arch of her brows, the curve of her nose. The pretty rosy tint in her cheeks. Then her mouth. Her bitten lips, the long neck, the exposed part of her chest. Heejin knows how to pull you in.

Your mind is blank, just fixated on her, how gorgeous she looks. She's pulling open her shirt, unbuttoning it, unhooking her bra. She's undressing, putting herself on display, only for you. It's entrancing.

Her body is perfect, lean and toned, the sculpted muscle and firm curves making her look like a piece of art. Beautiful. Then her legs, perfect thighs, the muscles not too built, but trim and taut, soft to the touch.

She bunches her skirt at her waist, exposing her panties, those small scraps of silken fabric, almost see-through, the threads clinging to the contours of her hips and the mound between her legs. Heejin draws her hand there, exploring the smooth cloth, the delicate lingerie highlighting the body underneath.

She slips her thumb below the edge of the fabric, her fingers following, before she peels them down her legs, shuffling them past her thighs and her knees and kicking them off her feet. Her bare skin is tantalizing, her body like a vision of unknown riches. "Do you like what you see?" she asks, her voice pure silk.

"What the fuck?" It's Yuna's exclamation, and the shock inside it, which makes you tear your gaze away. She is sitting on the floor, in her dishevelled uniform, pieces of clothing half-unbuttoned and hanging off her. "Is there a limit? How far are you going to go?"

"I told you, I have ideas," Heejin emphasises the plurality. She's completely unabashed, and without hesitation, she pulls you by the scruff of your shirt, towards her. A handful of you, drawing you between her legs, and then laying her lips on your skin. Traces of kisses on your chest, the brush of her tongue, her lips, her teeth. Words spoken against your body with hot breath, "Don't mind her. Enjoy me, instead."

It's like being drawn into the ocean. Heejin is pulling you in. Her serenity becomes calming and comforting, and there's no way to escape the feeling. She locks her legs around your hips, her hands grasping and caressing you. Nails digging into your skin and trailing along it. Each pull and tug on you is possessive. You run your hands over her skin. Soft thigh, plump breast, toned waist. Each part is addictive, and you can't decide which to take. You caress her face, running your hand over her cheek, letting her dark eyes shine with affection as she smiles, lifting her head to steal a kiss.

Yuna, the frustrated voyeur, can only watch as you grind yourself against Heejin, rubbing yourself along the sodden line between her legs. With each pass, her fluids cover the tip, smearing them and soaking the end. Each roll gets harder to fight, your instincts telling you to rush the heat into something more.

"There we go," Heejin murmurs. "No need to rush. Take your time. Enjoy me," she insists, encouraging you, "and I can show you just how much I can please you."

Tender. Gentle. This isn't some quick fuck, this is Heejin spoiling you. Worship, desire, lust. Each glance into her eyes sends a bolt of thrill into your gut, and your length continues to swell. Your mind becomes more and more intoxicated with each fresh coat, your cock aching, slowly and frustratingly sinking into her. You hold her thighs, lift them, and drag her closer. She squeaks with your grip, her body shuddering with one steady breath. "Mm, yes," she groans.

"Take me," she begs, and it's a plea that you simply cannot resist. A shuddering sigh of her pleasure at last releases, her head tilting back in an agonising cry. You slide as deep as you can go. No. Deeper. Your pace is agonising. Too slow. Far, far too slow. You grind into her, taking every chance to relish how her body clenches around you.

You know why she's doing this. Why she wants you to focus on her and forget about the other girl in the room. Why she wants to convince you, with every stroke of your cock inside, that she's the one who deserves it most. Yuna might have made you climax, but Heejin? Heejin has you mesmerised. Every twitch of her inner walls against you feels exquisite. Addictive. You want nothing more than to plunge into her again and again, desperate to take it all, all the wet, wonderful friction. Your grip on her hips tightens, holding her close as your bodies collide.

Yuna lets out a sound of frustration and disappointment. Her lips hang parted, unable to believe what she's seeing, gazing on as you are slowly overtaken. The two of you panting. Squeaking gasps from Heejin. Your own groans and grunts. Yuna mutters something, glaring daggers into the pair of you, though her words don't fully register in your mind.

"Mmm..." Heejin breathes, and with another squeeze, she guides your hands up to her chest. You massage her breasts, tracing shapes around her nipples. Your fingers trail and play and press, cupping and squeezing and massaging. Heejin melts into you, gasping for air, her body tingling. She moans a long, languid sigh of bliss, then bites down on her bottom lip.

The motions are so languid, every instant stretching out forever. Heejin's petite body feels so tender beneath you, so pliable. Like it was designed to be adored. Your every thrust is answered by hers, your bodies coming together as one.

When Heejin's fingernails dig into your shoulder blades, urging you closer, you grab her face. You tilt it upward, toward you. Her dark brown eyes meet yours.

Then her body shivers, quakes, stiffens, and spasms. The tight, squeezing depths within her constrict, compressing you. She holds onto you even harder than before. Her teeth bite down on her lip. A yelp turns into a whimper, which turns into a silent cry until all the sensations inside seem to boil over. She writhes in orgasm, her body racked by waves of euphoria, unable to control her reaction. She clings tightly, and the waves of ecstasy ripple outwards, travelling throughout her entire frame. Even her voice is distorted. Her breath catches and she quivers, gasping loudly. She struggles, her grip on you tightening, her body twisting and contorting as she shakes violently.

And you would be excused for thinking that would be it. That her delicate little body could take no more.

But you would be wrong.

She's snaking her fingers into your hair, drawing you to her as she falls flat against the desk. You're over her now. You're fucking her, down against the wood of the desk, nails digging into her thighs. She writhes and whines beneath you, her pants unashamed and delightfully arousing, her red face begging for more.

She's beautiful. All long limbs, dark eyes, soft skin, the supple flesh yielding under your rough treatment.

"Give me everything you've got," she taunts, and she's about to say more, it's on the tip of her tongue, but when you hook her leg and pull it over your shoulder, it cuts off her next retort, and suddenly the only sounds in the room are those of pleasure.

Faster, harder. Heejin has shown off enough, flaunting the kind of sexual prowess you never expected from the quiet girl who always sat at the front of the class.

Then again, it's always the quiet ones...

Yuna's still here. Watching. Enthralled, but also furious. Her hands clutch her skirt, balling the fabric in her fists. She wants to march over to the two of you and kick Heejin aside. She wants to scream her frustrations and push the interloper out of the way. And she wants you to fuck her the same way you did Heejin, so you can compare and find her superior.

Her fists clench to leave bloody crescents in her palm, teeth grit hard and grind. It's not jealousy, Yuna would deny it. She's never been jealous of anything Heejin does or has, because Yuna's always had what she needs and then some. Except tonight.

"Fuck you both!" She declares, indignant, but the pair of you pay her no heed.

And that only infuriates Yuna more.

"I'll report the two of you. This is fucked up!"

Even as you pound her, Heejin has just enough presence to dismiss her with a laugh inter-laden into her moans. "Report yourself for sucking him off, too."

There's nothing else she can say, no barbed insults or derisive statements she can fling at either of you. So she grabs her shirt off the floor and leaves in a huff. The sound of the slamming door rings through the room, like the period to a sentence.

It just allows you and Heejin to go even harder.

Soon the world closes in around you. Only the thumping desk remains, only the frantic rhythm of your bodies pounding against each other, only her tiny moans, muffled into the crease of her elbow, only her clenching pussy as she convulses, trembling. Her tight, warm walls flutter as they enclose your cock, milking every inch, rippling in rhythmic spasms.

You need a moment. To take a breath, gather your thoughts. You're nearly spent, so you change your tact.

You pull her from the desk and turn her to its edge. "I like the way you think," she coos, then sprawls herself against it. Her chest pressed against the wood. Her cute little ass presented in all its glory, begging for attention. It fits into your palms like perfection. Each soft cheek moulds itself to you, filling up your grip perfectly. She squirms a bit, enticingly, pushing her hips backwards against you as if she's afraid you might lose interest.

You enter her once more.

A squeak leaves her lips. It's so adorable. Cute. But also hot as fuck.

Tight body, tight cunt. A tiny little thing, yet somehow able to withstand your assault. Her slender frame jolts with the impact of each thrust.

You slap against her flesh, sending ripples through her skin. Her cute butt. The arch of her back. You grab her there, at the waist—that slutty little waist—and hold onto her tightly while you sink inside. Over and over. Relentless.

She twists, her nails dragging across the desk's surface, scrambling for purchase. Her eyes roll back and her legs buckle, a hoarse wail breaking from her throat. She looks like she's possessed, her features drawn into an ecstatic rictus. She cries out as the sensations overwhelm her. You can feel it happening. Since her unravelling.

"Yes, fuck," Heejin sputters. "Give me what I want."

And you don't know exactly what she means by that. Is it your cock or is it the title, but who are you to complain?

Then it comes, rushing at you like a tidal wave. You fall down on top of her, her delicate body straining underneath you. "Cum," she whimpers.

So you pin her there, under you, and empty yourself inside her. Your whole body sings, shaking uncontrollably as you unload.

"How was it?" Heejin giggles. "To fuck the future valedictorian?" Asked with the confidence that it was a foregone conclusion.

Decision day comes. It's been two days since you finished inside Heejin as a form of agreement, and two days since you last spoke to Yuna. It's all hostile stares and annoyed mutterings.

You feel bad. The fact that this whole thing devolved into some sordid exchange of sexual favours really gnaws at you. It doesn't sit well. You knew Yuna liked you, she never kept it a secret. In fact, it's cute that she was trying so hard to impress you. It all felt a little earnest, compared to Heejin's ruthless manner.

You've woken this morning with a conclusion that is quite frankly the easy way out. Yuna hasn't tried to argue it, she just keeps her scowl and glares from afar, like you're the antichrist. Meanwhile, Heejin gives a satisfied smile whenever you look her way.

At least this madness will end. You'll see your father today, give him the decision, and forget all of this, or try your hardest to.

First, you need to get out of bed, though, throw off these duvet covers and stand. Stretching gives some relief to the back, and it perks you up. A shower, breakfast, and some coffee—the standard routine. After that, it's clean clothes and a walk to the office.

That's how it should be, anyway.

You're still in only your underwear when there's a knock on your door.

"Give me a minute! Hang on," you call.

The doorknob rattles but doesn't open. Then there's the hammering of a palm against the wood. Impatient. Persistent. Another rattle of the doorknob.

You concede. Wearing nothing more than your underwear, you poke your head around the door and peek out of the opening.

There, arms folded, impatient foot tapping the floor, is Yuna. "I need to talk to you," she says, brow furrowed and serious.

"What's—"

Yuna tries to push the door but your body is blocking it.

"Yuna, I need a minute to—"

"—we need to talk." Her tone is urgent and agitated. She's not angry, exactly.

You relent. This sounds important. Maybe you've misjudged things. "Okay, okay, come in."

"Finally," she sighs, stepping past you and heading straight for the chair by the desk.

As you shut the door, she turns her gaze onto you. The intensity of her eyes, the depth, like swirling galaxies within a cloudless night sky.

"Yuna... I didn't think you wanted to see me, not after everything that happened."

"Yeah, I've thought a lot about that actually," she tells you. Her eyes don't leave you, roaming across your body. "We both wanted the same thing, but Heejin got there first. Today's the day, isn't it? Decision day. Your dad's going to want an answer." She's wearing her uniform again, freshly pressed, the white blouse starched and stiff, the skirt just skimming her knees.

"I was going to head over soon, actually."

"So it's not too late?"

"Too late for?"

"One final twist." Yuna reaches up to loosen the tie of her blouse. One by one, she starts working her way through the buttons, popping each one through the buttonholes. "How about we revisit the competition?"

"You can't be serious?" You ask, but you watch as she slips the shirt off her arms. Then she's reaching to undo the catch of her bra—soft blue lace cupping her full breasts. She peels the cups down and flicks the bra aside, revealing her perfect chest.

"I'm deadly serious." Yuna stands.

The arousal rises in you quickly, and you can feel yourself getting hard. There's no hiding it, and Yuna notices immediately, a smirk breaking across her pretty face. Yuna takes the opportunity, steps closer, and plants a palm against your abdomen. She trails her fingers down to trace the outline of your cock against your boxers, the thin material not hiding anything. A small laugh.

"There we go, now you're paying attention." She wraps her fingers around you through the material. It's electrifying, having her touch you like this. Her hands are small and delicate, but her grip is firm. She moves her palm up and down, stroking you gently and enticing you.

Your breath catches in your throat, the tension growing as she plays with your dick. "Yuna..." you manage, your heart pounding, your palms clammy.

"Do you like that?" she teases, her thumb brushing across the tip of your head through the cloth.

All you can do is nod, your mind hazy with lust, your legs weak. She grins, a predatory twinkle in her eye. She moves forward, pushing you backwards onto the bed, your legs buckling under the surprise assault. You land flat on your back, and Yuna looks down at you.

"Can I be honest with you?" she asks as she pushes her fingers into the waistband of her skirt. She slips it down, revealing her matching blue panties.

"Yeah?" you reply, unable to keep your gaze off her body.

"I've always kinda had a thing for you," she admits, "and it's kind of annoying that it takes some stupid shit like this for me to say something. But I've also kinda hated that Heejin got a hold of you, like, in a weird way, she won because she was braver than me."

"Braver? What does that have to do with—"

"—she wasn't scared to let you fuck her," Yuna interrupts. She steps forward until she's standing above you. "Guess what?" Her question is rhetorical. She hooks her fingers into her underwear and slips them down her smooth thighs. "It's my turn."

She's beautiful. Flawless skin, toned muscles, and perfect curves. Every detail of her is meticulously crafted, like a sculpture by an old master. It's hard not to stare. Your eyes are fixed on hers as she crawls onto the bed. The mattress dips, and you shuffle up the sheets, unsure where to put yourself as she straddles you.

"Look all you want." Yuna lowers herself down. She places her palms against your chest, pinning you, and lowers down further. You feel a warm heat press itself against your groin. The wetness soaking into the fabric. She begins to slowly grind herself against you, rubbing herself against your erection. "Have I ever told you about my dance classes?" she asks with a smirk, her hips swaying back and forth. She grinds herself against you in a rhythmic, slow, pattern, and the sensation is so intense and pleasurable that you groan. "I'm really good with my hips. Really good."

Yuna keeps going, her body swaying and grinding, and your underwear grows wetter. It's torturously good, the friction from her pussy, the wet heat against your length. It's impressive to watch the way her body rolls, the precision, the control.

Eventually, she slows, smiling slyly. Her fingers trace their way down your abdomen, down your stomach, and hook into the waistband of your boxers. With a slight tug, she pulls them down, freeing your hardness from its confines. She leans forward again, positioning herself above you, ready to descend.

This feels a little unreal. You never expected it to happen, nor did you ever expect her to be this assertive. "Yuna..."

"Relax," she says, lowering herself. She holds you in place. "Honestly, even if you still choose Heejin later, I won't care. I just needed to do this."

Then she lets gravity drop her and there's a sudden pressure around your length, her warmth encasing you, her muscles wrapping around you. Her head tips back slightly and her expression softens as she exhales. The feeling is incredible, and your groans echo hers. The tightness around your cock, the warmth and moistness, and the sight of her perfect naked form on top of you.

Yuna wastes no time, she lifts herself, rolling her hips up, and then slides back down. Her breathing becomes louder, more ragged. You reach out to grab her, your hands instinctively moving to her sides to pull her down into you. She welcomes the grip, biting her lower lip as you pull her into you, her breath coming in quick bursts.

"Does that feel good?" she asks, her voice husky, her body rocking against you.

"It feels amazing," you reply, your hands roaming up to squeeze her breasts.

A soft laugh escapes her as she shifts her weight back and forth, riding you, controlling the rhythm and pace. She's practised and precise like every movement is part of a well-rehearsed routine. "Better than Heejin?" she asks.

"You're incredible," you gasp, grabbing her tighter. The words seem to spur her on further, and she picks up speed. Each movement sends a ripple of pleasure through your body. She's in complete control, dictating the pace, deciding how deep, how hard, and how fast. You've given yourself completely over to her, allowing her to use you as she wants, to ride you however she pleases.

"That's good," she hums, picking up her pace. "I'll do my best for you."

She shifts again, leaning back slightly, changing the angle. She bounces, her breasts swaying with every rise and fall. She has found the perfect spot. "Oh fuck yes!" you hiss, your hands grasping at her thighs and body arching upwards.

"Mmmm," she moans, picking up the tempo. She's riding you now, fast and hard, sweat forming on her brow. "Fuck!" Her curse is rare, strange coming from her mouth, but it's welcome, especially as it's followed by her panting harder.

The room is filled with the sounds of slapping skin and heavy breaths. The air is thick with the scent of sex. You're both sweating, grunting, panting.

As great of a spectacle, as breathtaking a sight, she is, it's a constant struggle. You get so close to bursting into her, only for her to feel it coming, take a moment of pause, slow to a grind and adjust her position again, denying you of an ending. She's teasing you, playing you, keeping you on edge.

You want nothing more than to throw her down, kneel behind her and rail her until you cum deep into her, to hold her tight while you fill her up. Yet, despite how easily you could, how simple it would be to move her and shove her to the bed and do whatever you wanted, you can't do it. Something about watching her is mesmerising, and you can't take your eyes away. You watch her move, how her muscles flex with each rock and roll, how her breasts jiggle and shake with each bounce, how her head tilts back, her eyelids flutter and how her teeth bite on her bottom lip. The sight is far too powerful, far too thrilling, to break away from.

It must be plastered all over your face, the need, because she says, "You can't cum inside, it's not safe, but," and she gives that wicked smile once again, "I have an idea." She drags herself off of you, and then she turns around and bends over, facing away from you, exposing herself, her pussy soaked and glistening. You get the picture.

Then she hits her own ass. An open-palmed slap right across it, making the supple flesh ripple, a red mark stinging bright on her otherwise pale complexion. "Like what you see?" Yuna coos.

"Absolutely," you reply.

She sways her hips side-to-side, a small enticement. "Good." She lowers her hips, settling her cheeks on either side of your cock. Her hand pulls you between them, and as she shakes her ass side to side, Yuna lets out a satisfied chuckle. Then she begins to move, back and forth, sliding you between her cheeks. She grips and squeezes you tightly, using her own ass as a toy.

There's something raw and dirty about it. The way she rubs you with her cheeks, squeezing and pressing you into the cleft between them. Her skin is smooth and silky, her ass perfectly round and perky. It's intoxicating—addictive. Every time she squeezes, you feel that build-up inside you grow hotter. A boiling sensation, searing through your veins. It feels so good, but it's still not enough. You want more.

Yuna knows this isn't enough, and there's only one thing you would wish for her to do next. She pushes her hand between her legs, taking hold of your shaft firmly. Then, slowly, deliberately, she spreads her buttocks with one hand while guiding you between them with the other. The anticipation builds until she finally presses your cockhead against her asshole.

It's tight. Very, very tight. There's some initial resistance as she tries to force herself down onto you, but she's patient. Slow. Inch by inch, she sinks downwards. Soon, the tip of your cock slips into her, causing her to groan in discomfort, biting down on her lip to keep quiet, but she refuses to stop.

You can only watch as she draws your cock into her ass, stretching and adjusting to fit. She gasps, her eyes wide, her expression contorted. She takes a moment to collect herself, before sinking even further, taking more of you into her ass. You marvel at how her tight hole stretches to accommodate you. You've never felt anything like this before; the tightness is unlike any other sensation.

As Yuna continues to sink down, she begins to shudder with pain and discomfort. She's struggling. You place your hand on her ass, rubbing and caressing it, encouraging her. Yuna lets out a long breath, her head hanging down, sweat dripping from her brow. You're barely halfway in but she's rocking her hips and groaning.

"I want you to cum inside," she whispers, her voice hoarse, almost desperate, looking over her shoulder. Her back is arched where her waist narrows, the definition in her muscles more pronounced from the effort.

"You sure?" you ask, gripping her hips tightly.

She nods frantically, her hair falling into her face. Her hands grip the bedsheets tightly. She pushes herself down, finding a rhythm, pushing and pulling. You help, using your grip to guide her, but you're careful not to hurt her. She starts to pick up speed, working herself up and down, taking more and more of you into her with each pass.

It's intense, watching her work, seeing her concentrate so hard. Eventually she relaxes, her body less tense. She's adjusted to the sensation now, getting used to having you buried in her, and she seems to enjoy it. You find yourself lost in the beauty of her body, her slim figure, her narrow waist, her taut ass and toned thighs, the way she moves with such purpose and grace. Even under stress, her poise shines through.

She begins to move faster, rocking her hips, pulling you deeper into her ass. Her movements become smoother and more fluid. Each time she sinks down onto you, she groans loudly. She's loving it, her eyes closed, her mouth open in strained pleasure. You hear her muttering things under her breath, like "Yes" and "fuck." Each time she says it, you can't help but smile. She's really enjoying herself. You love the sound of it.

Her walls cling to you tightly, her tight hole squeezing you firmly. Every time she rocks her hips, it sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, building, pulsing, and growing, until finally, your muscles clench. She grunts in exertion, her arms straining, her body trembling, and you grip her ass hard enough to mark her fair skin with fingerprints.

You hold her in place and you cum. Your dick spasms within her, filling her with hot liquid. You groan loudly as your hips buck wildly beneath her, spilling deep inside. The pleasure surges through every fibre of your being. When you're finally spent, you collapse back onto the bed. You're completely drained. Exhausted. You lie there, staring at the ceiling, your chest heaving, trying desperately to catch your breath.

Yuna is quick to join you, "That was so hot," she pants.

She doesn't say much else, catching her breath. While you're lost in the stars you're seeing, she rolls onto her side and brushes a stray hair from your face. It's affectionate and cute. Soft. Her dark eyes search yours and a playful smile appears on her lips. She reaches out to touch your cheek, tracing its curves before moving to stroke your chin.

"I meant it. I don't care if you still choose Heejin," she murmurs, the satisfaction evident in her voice. Her touch is light, tickling and tingling on your skin, like she's admiring a fine piece of art.

The question inevitably comes, with casual ease, the coffee mug halfway to your lips(where it pauses while you ponder). You take a sip, then place the cup down. A look into his eyes, and you give a simple answer.

"Good choice," he nods, offering no sincerity. Just a solemn acknowledgement. "Will be a nice ceremony. You should wear something smart." There's that nod again, dismissive. He puts his reading glasses on and peers back at his documents. More scribbles. As if the whole thing was nothing.

#Yuna smut #Heejin smut #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #m reader #Itzy smut #artms smut #Heejin x reader #smut #kpop fanfiction #yuna x reader #loona smut

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tan1shere · 3 months ago

Text

Her Favorite

Teacher Billie Eilish x student female reader !

A/n: the thought of this is sending me feral rn, enjoy 😩 also Claudia is in this and we are pretending you and her are the same ages okur yuh (20-21)(bills is nearing 30s let's say 😋 MILF) - there's going to be links to the outfits on each day that she wears on one of the words, just to help you get a better visual 😁

Summary: you're the teachers pet. Her. Favorite.

Warnings: smut DURH, mdni ! Thigh riding, soft dom bills nothing new here, sub reader, heavy sexual tension GAHH - think thats it ! Lmk if I left anything out 😙

Masterlist - pt 2 , pt 3

You were a college student. That's how most of these go right? You're the popular party throwing, blonde- no. In this case you were the shy, less know girl who sat in the middle of the class, not in the front and center. Or in the back. You were fairly confident, in yourself and what you loved. But all attention on you sent worry through your body. You had one best friend, Claudia. She was the kindest soul, more outgoing than you were but you loved her regardless.

Today was a Wednesday so that means music class. You don't really have any interest in it if you're being honest. But Claudia insisted you join her as a fun class, which you'd argue with and say all classes were fun in a way. But that wasn't strictly true. You couldn't sing, nor play any instrument so it wasn't as fun to you. "You know, I got you to agree to this class because it was fun, not to be good at it!" She says, walking beside you into the classroom. "But we have to try to be semi good at it- and that's not going so well." She just nudges you. "Well I already know you have fun anyway." She winks. Making your eyes roll.

"Don't you just wonder what she will be wearing today." - "You're annoying you know that?" She shrugs with a smile. "I know you love meee." As you entered the room. You spot her. The teacher of this specific class. She was beautiful and you most definitely had a crush on the woman. Was it silly? Maybe, but it was the only good thing about this class. Like Claudia was teasing to you about before. Today Ms O'Connell was wearing something very casual. A brown striped jacket with a collared white shirt underneath. Her hair was down today and she just looked so good. You sat down in your usual seats.

Ms O'Connell then starts for today. Explaining a few things, you honestly had no interest in them. But you just couldn't help staring at her. You then hear your name being called pulling you out of whatever trance you were in. "Y/n? You listening love?" You swallow discreetly, trying to not make it obvious how nervous she made you. You'd never let it fully show. Besides she talked to all the students that way. "Yes, sorry just tubed out for a sec. I'm listening." You replied sweetly, really not wanting to get in trouble. Or maybe that wouldn't be so bad. She nods in reply, continuing.

It wasn't as if you voluntarily put yourself out there, you never asked questions but for some reason she seemed to ask you all the questions, why? You were just writing something down when she eventually approaches you. "Can we speak after this lesson?" She asked you so softly, you thought youd die right there. You nod. Feeling tingles going throughout your body.

That time, was now. You were packing up your things as everyone else leaved, you go over to her, but not as close. Which confused her slightly. "You wanted to see me Miss?" Her head tilts. "You can come closer. I don't bite." Her pretty smile was then to be seen, you reluctantly go closer. "I've noticed the past few lessons you've been distracted." Uh oh. "Are you sleeping ok? You so look a little tired recently. Everything alright?" The way she's checking up on you makes you want to pounce at her and kiss her beautiful lips. But your mind remains, trying to calm it down. And it was slightly true, you always struggled to sleep but that's just been a thing ever since you were a kid.

"It's ok, I'm fine just not a huge sleeper?" You admit, but there was a concerned look on her face. "As long as you're ok." You nod, suspecting the conversation was done going to leave, but she grabs your arm gently. You look at her, into her eyes. Your nerves coming right back. "I'm always here if you need anything yeah? If you need to talk." And there you were again, in a compelling trance. Her eyes were like a spell. Your heart rate picks up, at the feeling of her hand on your arm.

Little did you know, she saw it all. The way you looked at her didn't go unnoticed by the woman. And little did you know. This was just the start of something, so crazy.

It was now Friday, music class yet again. And you couldn't stop thinking about that interaction, the way her hand held onto your arm, her blue eyes casting a spell on your own. You even slept better that night as silly as that may sound. Maybe she was like a comfort? You walk in with Claud, going to your normal spot. Ms hottie (as you liked to call her in your head.) Was wearing something interesting today. It was another collared shirt, with faint lines. Paired with a sleevless jacket ontop. She had a cap on, and those sexy glasses. You loved whenever she wore them.

She admitted to the class that she didn't need them she just enjoyed wearing them. And your immediate thought was hot. So every time she wears them you freak out a little inside. You listened to her voice, speaking, singing. God she was everything. You had told Claudia about the other day and she just made you more delusional about it, saying...

"Oh my god, what if she likes you."

"She was so teasing you with the bite comment."

"She knows."

It had been driving you nuts, like she was a little person in your head repeating those sentences. And here you were yet again, not focusing. Ms O'Connell looks over at you but staying quiet this time round.

There was no doubt about how bored you were, but it wasn't long to go thankfully. For the class and the rest of the year. You honestly couldn't wait to be done for good, this was the last year. Once the lesson was over you go to pack up your things, when you hadn't realized your other books had fallen out of your bag. You sigh, going to bend down to your knees to pick them up. Everyone was leaving, and it was just you and her. You stand once you collect yourself and your things, turning around but only to be met with those beautiful blue eyes.

You gasp, had you of been expecting she was right behind you. "Sorry sweetheart, didn't mean to startle you." You flash her your sweet smile. "It's ok!" She looks over your body, slowly. Hm. Unusual. Unusually hot. "You seem to fade into space alot. Is that normal?" She asks. Referring to you being distracted earlier. Her eyes keep roaming around your body, landing on your eyes... Then your lips. Continuing that motion til she settles on your eyes. "A little yeah, big daydreamer." You laugh a little, nervously. "What do you tend to think about?"

You. You. You. Your brain chants. "Things." Her head casually tilts, but it goes straight to your head. Or maybe your aching core. Because that was way too hot. You swallow, audibly. A tiny smirk plays on her lips. "What's the matter?" She asks with slight concern but her smirk overpowers any of that sympathy. You felt like for the first time you couldn't speak to her, your words gone. "Hm?" She asks with such a velvety smooth tone. You wanted to whine, it's as if she knew what she was doing. Making you feel such a way. But that's impossible, right? You pluck up some confidence. When she gets closer to you before you could speak. "Kinda glad this is your last class for today." Your brows furrow. What? "W-why-?" You then ask, widening your eyes at how pathetic it came out.

"Because, I get to do something that I've been wanting to for soooo long." Your breath becomes quicker, unsteady. Similar to your legs. "Please." You breathe out, too into your own thoughts to care about how wrong this situation may be. In broad daylight. Her lips come softly onto your own, so incredibly slow. Your tongues eventually mingle together, tasting the sudden desire against one another. She pulls back going to swipe her thumb against your lip. Staring at them. You felt dizzy, weak. No way you just kissed her. "Things. I didn't know that was my new name." She looks into your eyes again. Darker, sexy. Fuck. You thought. Her hands reach for yours going to take you into her secluded office.

She shuts and locks the door. Approaching you. "I see the way you look at me angel, I'm very aware." You swallow, louder than the last time. "Just know those daydreams have you soaked huh?" She pouts slightly, in a mocking sense. Your head reluctantly nods. Looking into her eyes, she backs you up against the desk. "Then you must know just how much I daydream of you." Your eyes grew bigger, did she really just say that? No way... Her hands rest on your thighs, face leaning closer to yours. Moving slowly to your ear. "May I show you, pretty girl?" Your breath catches in your throat before you reply, breathlessly. "Please do." Her smirk returns.

Grabbing your hand again and leading you around to her chair, eventually getting you to sit on her lap. Your hands rest on her shoulders. Hers gliding up and down the sides of your body. "Just want a little taste of what I've been mindlessly thinking of, yeah?" Whatever the fuck that meant you didn't care, nodding nonetheless. Her hands then grip your hips, manhandling you so your cunt is directly over her thigh. The change makes you gasp slightly considering you hadn't expected that. Your hands grip her shoulders as your underwear is met with the rough material of her pants. Having your skirt semi out of the way. "Thin. Wet." She says inches away from your face. You bite your lip as you both hold eye contact. The way her glasses sit on her face making it 10x better.

This woman. She's driving you mental. Were you dreaming or something? She begins to slowly move you on her thigh, making your first noise come beautifully past your lips. "Good, you know how to use your voice." She says, averting her eyes to you and her thigh. "You gunna make a mess on ne sweet girl?" Your eyes shut as her movements quicken, feeling your brain fog over with a euphoric sensation. "M-more.." You blurt out. "More she says?" Billie chuckles deliciously. (Like at the end of guess 😵) "Angel wants more, how very sweet." You gulp. "P-please?" Your soft voice made her go nuts. She wanted so badly to ruin you right here right now. But she resisted for the time being. "And she asks sooo-" Her movements speed up, causing your eyes to pop, jaw agape. "-nicely."

Your head lulls back as you feel it coming, the way your clit was throbbing against her rapidly. Soon after feeling that tightness, only to be met with that sticky necter. All over her thigh. She hums in approval. Letting you fall against her, head landing in the crook of her neck. Your breathing slowly coming back to you as her hand rubs gently over the skin of your arm. "That's why you're my favorite."

After a minute or two you come back to reality. Not the right reality but your senses turn back on. She swiftly tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. Smiling at you gently, thinking for you second before taking her hat off and plopping it on your head. She looks at you so lovingly, now seeing that compassion in her eyes. It made you melt, softly putting your hands on her face. Hers latch delicately over your wrists, soon grabbing your hand and kissing it tenderly. This was wrong, not because of any age, but because she was your teacher. Did you really care tho? Hardly. Once you leave it's not like it'd matter. But oh fuck it felt too good.

"Go clean up darling, I'll see you on Wednesday." She then winks, as you leave the classroom. And all your mind could say was.

Oh.

My.

God.

Pt 2 will be out soon. ;)

#billie eilish x you #billie eilish smut #billie #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x reader smut #billie ellish lyrics #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #Her Favorite

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mezzo-morte · 2 months ago

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Being a Mulder/Scully shipper (aka everyone except Chris Carter) is such a profoundly confusing experience.

You get gaslit by the showrunner himself because for the first 6(?) seasons the characters are platonic. You get six years of them glancing at the other's lips, standing and walking so closely they're always touching, you get tender touches and warm embraces, you get forehead kisses, you get displays of jealousy and one of them even admitting to being territorial. You get this as soon as the damn pilot.

You get Mulder speaking into Scully's hair, you get Scully cradling and singing to him, you get Mulder making a scene threatening to fight anyone in sight when Scully is returned to the hospital, you get Scully wanting to have his child of all people.

You get that the connection is so profound they only trust the other and would (and have) gone to hell and back for their partner.

You have all of these feelings culminating in the intense way in which they gaze at each other, both directly and when the other isn't looking.

Then you have the actors, who were so horned up and fed up with the tension they went off script and made out like that, the same actors who did photoshoots in bed and kissed at award shows and interviews despite never being together, despite the characters never being canonically a couple. You get David, who when asked if he played it like he wanted Scully, he said he simply played it like he cares about her input and you get Gillian, who kissed David in the mouth before turning to kiss her husband when she won an emmy in 1997.

It's clearly love and although the absence of romance and sex don't make a connection any less legitimate or meaningful, I just don't buy it that there was never supposed to be an attraction from the beginning. That they remained friends for that long.

And still you're left questioning if it isn't all just projection because the two actors are so insanely attractive you can't help but want to see them in a sexual setting. If it's all just two good friends having so much chemistry that it makes it easy to come off as romantic. You're left to wonder if you have just been so blind in your own personal life that you have never so much as seen that kind of connection in marriages, let alone with coworkers. That perhaps you've just never had the fortune of having such a special connection with your platonic friend that you make out just for fun. You're made to believe that what you're seeing isn't desire but a deep understanding and care for the other's well being and happiness.

What is the truth. It's out there and at this point I have to believe it's all a ploy from the shadow government and Old Smokey himself to cover up what everyone already knows. The evidence is right in front of us and they keep trying to veer towards a specific answer and call bias if you don't agree.

#x files #txf #msr #mulder #scully #david duchovny #gillian anderson #fuck you chris carter

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hollowdeath · 9 months ago

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I LOVEEEEE YOUR HARRY FICSSSS 😭😭🙏🙏 I literally cannot get enough, your harry fics are amazing ❤️

I was wondering if you'd be willing to do an enemies to lovers type thing with dark!harry, similar to the one you did with "the dark side" fic, but maybe they're rivals due to quittich, yet they both just have tension they don't know gow to handle, so one day they just kind of get so worked up in an argument they start making out. (P.S. I loved the thing you did where harry came from y/n saying he hated him 😫😫 also the part where harry gets turned on from y/n scolding him. If possible, could you incorporate that in there? Thank you smm ❤️❤️) I hope it's not too much trouble ❤️❤️❤️

thank you so much for requesting this, i hope you enjoy!!!

pairing: slytherin!harry james potter x gryffindor!fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry have been quidditch rivals ever since you've become captain of the gryffindor team. the tension between you two rises until one of you needs bandaged up by the other, leading to you making a discovery about the school's bad boy that leaves you baffled and insanely curious.

cw: smut!!! angst, mentions of blood, degradation kink, sub!harry x dom!reader, dry humping

word count: 7k

it was your final year at hogwarts and, more importantly to you, it was your last year as the gryffindor quidditch captain. you took major pride in your status as captain, and dedicated a majority of your time outside of class to leading practice, coming up with new plays, and making sure that annoyingly good slytherin captain kept his distance from you and your team.

harry potter was well known at hogwarts years before he even came through. the boy who lived, or whatever. you had never paid him much mind to begin with because you knew he reveled in his own notoriety.

see, potter wasn't just the slytherin quidditch captain. he was the most vile, egotistical, disrespectful wizard you'd ever had the misfortune of interacting with. on top of thinking he was some kind of miracle that blessed everyone's presence wherever he went, he specifically treated you worse than the mud on his shoes. not just because of your status as gryffindor captain, but because you were the only student who wasn't afraid to stand your ground with him. had it not been for quidditch practice 4 times a week and games every friday, you would've done everything you could to keep your distance. however, things didn't work out that way, and you ended up forming a sort of rivalry with the boy that the student body found all too exciting.

it started last year when potter and his friends made a dumb poster and hung it up in every boys bathroom: a drawing of someone falling off their broom with your face printed out and glued to it, along with harry's whose drawing had just knocked you off victoriously. they had put "[y/l/n] vs potter: this friday at 6" at the top like it was some kind of promotional advert. and, as much as you hated it, it actually somewhat worked.

from that game on, the other kids began picking sides every week to see who would win. the crowd turnout became the largest it had been in your entire time at hogwarts. some came in support of potter or were otherwise afraid of what would happen if they didn't, while a good amount of students started to become your biggest supporters the more you showed your skills in the game.

see, you didn't just become captain by having a recognizable last name unlike some other people; you had been playing quidditch since you could fly from a young age, and made the team every single year before finally being nominated for the position by your own teammates. you made a promise to them that day that slytherin would no longer be known as the winning house, and that they finally had some competition to sweat over.

and sweat they did. your first game as captain was an easy win, and so were the next 3. it wasn't until the slytherin players learned they actually had to try in order to win now that they began winning every other game as well. that's where harry stepped in.

harry was someone you always tried to avoid during your years at hogwarts. you didn't socialize with many slytherins to begin with as you found some of them to be rather grating and obnoxious, but especially not with slytherins like potter. it was students like him that gave the entire house a bad name. everyone thought he was so charming besides his cocky attitude, but you saw through his act right away. you think that's partially why he singled you out of anyone as his target.

once he set his sights on you, it was impossible to avoid him. it's like he had some sort of tracker on you the way he always managed to pop up in the most random of places simply to upset you. not that you'd be surprised, as along with harry's sickening bravado came his disregard for moral ethics. if there was a way to cheat, lie, or steal your way into getting what you wanted, potter was already on it. he knew no bounds when it came to his little schemes either. from stealing your game plays and sharing them with his teammates to spreading rumors about your players to playing clearly illegal moves during the game only for nobody to notice but you, potter seemed to revel in the rivalry everyone pushed onto you.

you hated giving him the satisfaction of breaking your cold demeanor, but sometimes his antics pushed you too far. he knows how protective you've become over your teammates, so he'll target them when he can't get to you, especially the younger ones. this is where you've blown your cover quite a few times as you can't stand seeing your first years cower in fear anytime they see potter. yelling, spitting, nearly getting physical with him on several occasions when he ignores your threats to leave the kids alone or else. it's as if he rather enjoys getting such a rise out of you, and not just to fuel the public rivalry.

today was your last day of practice before the last, biggest game of the semester. your team knew to meet at the field at 5 pm ready to go as you had plenty of plays you wanted to perfect before playing against the slytherins tomorrow night. practice had only just started with a few flyers in the air before you heard a commotion of voices coming from behind you.

you turned and saw harry leading his team onto the field, laughing obnoxiously and pointing at your teammates in mockery. you swear you felt steam coming from your ears when you told your team to wait and let you handle this.

you stormed up to potter with an accusatory pointed finger. "you. get the hell off my field now before i call mcgonagall out here, potter." you spit at him before pushing his chest. harry takes the push and just laughs, shaking his head at you.

"[y/l/n], i'm not sure how many professors have to tell you that this field isn't yours before you let us use it for practice as well," he said with a smirk, changing his grip on his broomstick and letting it rest on his shoulder. you narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest. "you know damn well we practice here every week at this time, and yet you're never able to find a time outside of that to spend with your own team. curious, isn't it?" you ask him sarcastically, your tone biting.

harry's smirk drops slightly. "are you suggesting that i'm trying to sabotage your chance at winning the season tomorrow? because i'd never do such a thing, [y/l/n], and it hurts that you think of me in that way." he responds just as sarcastically. a few of his players snicker and laugh just behind him, earning a nasty glare from you that has them shut up quickly.

you look back at harry who's waiting for a clever comeback from you, nearly on the edge of his seat to see what you have to say this time. you hate how much he thrives off getting you upset.

"fine. practice, then. you'll need it." you tell harry with a cold tone, giving him a disgusted look up and down. you take a step forward and point your finger back into harry's chest, your faces less than a foot away from each other. "but if you mess with any of my players, even as a joke, i will gut you like a fucking fish." you tell him in a hushed tone. you think you see his pupils dilate slightly, but you were probably mistaken. "got it?"

harry's smirk only grows as he starts backing away slowly. "got it, princess." he laughs, turning to his little group of followers for approval before they run off to the other goal post opposite from your team. the nickname is new, and for some reason it made your stomach drop and heart race like crazy. that potter kid just knew exactly how to get under your skin.

you tried to focus on your own team's plays for the rest of practice, but you could clearly hear harry and his friends saying your name and laughing too often for your comfort. anytime you happened to make eye contact with harry, you made sure to scowl at him and promptly turn your attention away. just his sheer presence made your blood boil and skin crawl.

for the most part there were no issues in the sky, the slytherins mostly kept to their side besides the few times harry's friends were messing around and ended up coming close to a few of your teammates. you scolded them each time, but they would only laugh at you and fly off to tell harry about your outbursts. other than that, you ended up getting a lot accomplished in order to be prepared for the game the next day.

however, towards the end of practice, your teammates were having some difficulty with a new technique you taught them, so you took the time to demonstrate it with another player in the sky. you were just about to start instructing when your teammates started calling out to you frantically. you didn't have enough time to process what they were warning you about before you felt someone fly into you from behind, nearly causing you to fall off your broomstick.

you could feel yourself falling to the ground, but your grip on your broomstick remained tight enough to quickly get it under you just in time to somewhat break your landing. you tumbled to the ground with a pained groan, and heard someone else fall just to your left. you could feel the wind get knocked out of you in the air, so it took a moment for you to properly breathe as you tried to sit up.

your teammates got to you in seconds, asking if you were okay and trying to help you up. that's when the pain set in. standing up-right you could feel your rib cage aching and your shoulder throbbing. "i'm fine, i'm fine," you told everyone, brushing off the grass stains on your clothes. you turned to see who had fallen next to you, and who else would be lying there but harry potter as his slytherin teammates rushed to his aid as well.

they're helping him stand up and you can feel the rage building inside you. you break away from your teammates' grasps and march up to harry as he's wiping the grass stains off his own clothes as well.

"you did that on purpose, you pest." you snap at him. harry looks at you incredulously as he fixes his practice jersey. "are you mad? it was an accident, i wasn't looking where i was going, drama queen." he snaps back, giving you a dirty look up and down. you can feel your jaw clenching and fists balling at your sides. "oh yeah, sure, you just so happened to run into me of all people in the sky. you know, you're such a…"

you pause in your anger noticing a gash on the side of harry's face with blood starting to drip down his cheekbone. harry notices your concern and gives you a confused look. you sigh and instinctively pull down the sleeve of your sweatshirt to hold it against his wound. "now you have a giant cut on your face, for fuck's sake," you tell him, your voice a mix of panic and exasperation. harry winces at your hand making contact with his face, but his eyes grow with concern hearing your panic.

you turn to your team and start guiding harry towards the school. "practice is over, do not be late tomorrow." you announce to them hurriedly, trying to keep your sleeve against harry's injury as you rush him off the field.

harry actually manages to stay quiet on the way to the infirmary despite your anticipation to shush him the entire way for making crude jokes. instead he remains silent and lets you urgently guide him through the empty halls.

once you arrive at the infirmary wing, you notice the entire room is full of people. every bed is taken, ans every nurse is running around frantically from patient to patient. you and harry share a confused look before you roll your eyes and find a nurse between beds. "excuse me, ma'am, i'm sorry to bother but um, potter here was being an idiot and got a cut on his face that just needs to be bandaged quickly." you motion towards harry and feel him give you a nasty look out of your peripheral for calling him an idiot.

the nurse, completely exhausted, sighs and motions towards a room to the side of the check-in station. "look, we are swamped with a potion experiment gone wrong here. if it's just a cut that doesn't need stitches there's a first aid kit in the little room over that way." she tells you quickly before being called away to another patient. you try to intervene but she's already jogging away, leaving you with a bloody harry in your hands. literally.

you sigh, clearly annoyed, and turn to examine harry's cut again. pulling your blood-soaked sleeve away, you see the blood flow still hasn't slowed and decide to just bite your tongue and help harry despite your hatred for him only growing in this situation.

you drag harry towards the little room, opening the door and turning on the lights to reveal the smallest examination room you'd ever seen. you had no idea this was even here, but it only contained a sink, a cot, a locked medicine cabinet, and a first aid kit. you closed the door behind harry and locked it. you grab a few paper towels from next to the sink and walk harry over to the cot. "sit," you command him, practically pushing him with your other hand to sit down.

harry looks up at you softly, way softer than he's ever looked at you. it makes your heart skip a beat but you ignore the feeling quickly. "here," you tell him coldly, handing over the paper towels. "just apply pressure on it while i get the first aid kit."

harry does as he's told and you slowly pull away your sleeve, making a disgusted face at the stains left on the cuff. you sigh and pull your arm back through the sleeve, starting to take off the hoodie altogether. "well, that's ruined," you complain, throwing it to the floor, leaving you in a tiny tank top and workout shorts.

harry's watching you intently, adjusting his glasses and shifting his weight in his seat. you walk to the sink and thoroughly wash your hands in case any blood happened to get on you as well.

opening the first aid kit up you find a tiny bottle of isopropyl alcohol, cotton rounds, and bandages. pouring alcohol on the cotton, you turn to harry and still find him watching you.

you give him a look. "what?" you ask with pinched brows. harry, for once, looks flustered as he turns his eyes away from you, instead staring at the floor below his feet. you just roll your eyes and set down the alcohol, walking towards harry and pulling away his hand from his cheek.

"here," you say, moving his jaw to look up towards you. "this is gonna hurt a little," you tell him before gently cleaning the cut with the cotton round. harry winces, but his eyes never leave your face. you try to ignore his gaze but it becomes even more intense the longer you take to stop the bleeding. you can practically feel his stare burning holes into your skin, and you start to feel that familiar annoyance rise in your stomach.

"i know i'm pretty, potter, but can't you look anywhere else?" you complain, giving him a cold look before returning your attention to his cheek. harry's eyes drop again, but end up falling on your chest this time. you back away and scoff, throwing the cotton pad into the trash next to the cot. "perv," you mutter under your breath.

just as you're preparing the bandage on the counter next to the sink, you hear harry say something from behind you. "you're gonna have to speak up, kid," you chuckle, throwing away some wrapping in the trash. "your, um, your back," you hear him stutter.

you turn to give him a confused look. "what?" you ask. harry motions towards your back, and you turn to look at yourself in the mirror above the sink. you look at your back and pull up your tank top slightly to see a massive bruise forming on your ribcage. you gasp at the size and color, immediately turning your anger towards harry.

he already looks prepared for your rage before you can even start to say anything. "you bloody prick, i know you did this on purpose. do you seriously want to win so badly you'd nearly break a rib to get there?" you snap at him, pulling your shirt back down and angrily marching towards him still sitting on the cot.

"i told you, [y/n], it was an accident." he says. you pause. he's never called you by your first name, at least not to your face. you were actually surprised he knew what it was in the first place.

harry looks up at you innocently, his eyes soft and brows raised. this just angers you again. you take another step towards him, your legs practically between his as harry tilts his head up to keep looking at you.

his glasses are crooked, his hair is a mess, and the cut on his cheek is still raw. and still, for some reason, your heart skips a beat looking down at him. you've never been so close to his face. you've never noticed his freckles before.

"you should just be glad i haven't targeted you the way you've targeted me all these years, potter. you're lucky i'm a nice person and don't believe in revenge, or else you'd be the one with nearly broken bones and a bruise the size of your lungs." you spit in his face, your tone razor sharp.

harry's expression hardly changes at your words. if anything his eyes only soften more watching you become filled with anger.

"and wipe that innocent look off your face before i do it for you. you should be thanking me for patching up this cut and not making it worse." you continue to vent at him as you step away to grab the bandage from the counter.

you're just starting to press down on the adhesive of the bandage around harry's injury when his eyes meet yours again. "thank you." he says, his voice broken and whiny. something about the way he says it makes your stomach drop to the floor. harry's usual annoying temperament was completely gone, no longer making mocking jokes or insults towards you, instead only speaking softly and looking into your eyes even softer.

confused and feeling a strange mix of emotions, you finish applying the bandage on harry's face without a word.

you start to put away the first aid kit, taking one last look at your bruise in the mirror with a sigh.

"i'm sorry." you hear harry say quietly. you look at him, his expression empathetic and almost concerned for you. it was then you started to believe the incident really was an accident. why would harry ever be apologetic for something he'd usually take loads of pride in, like knocking you off your broomstick?

you swallow nervously and look away from him, fixing your shirt. "you should be," you try to remain cold, but your voice is breaking. "i'm just glad you also hurt yourself in the process. you deserve to feel some of the pain too." you say in a deadpan voice.

you pick up your sweatshirt off the floor and start soaking the sleeve in some hot water to at least try and get some of the stains out.

"you're right." harry says behind you, his voice somber. you roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt to seem remorseful, turning to him curtly. "i know i'm right. and you know what else? you're just a loser who picks on people to feel better about yourself because you're insecure." you insult him.

you expect at least some kind of reaction from harry, but he just continues to watch the ground with a sullen expression. "i know." he says quietly.

you groan and turn to shut the sink faucet off, walking towards harry with the same accusatory pointing finger from before. "and you can stop with this whole act you're putting on 'cause it's pissing me right off," you nearly yell at harry, getting in his face. he just looks up at you with those big blue eyes again, biting his lip harshly.

you went to scold him again when you noticed a rather large bulge in his pants from where you were standing above him. you thought you were just assuming, but once you took a step back, you knew exactly what was happening with a smirk growing on your face.

harry nervously looked down at his crotch before quickly attempting to hide his obvious erection. he adjusted his pants and tried to use his shirt to cover it, but you were already laughing at him. "this cannot be real, this has got to be a setup. there's no way you just got turned on by me insulting you for 10 minutes straight." you could hardly get the words out from laughing so hard.

clearly embarrassed, harry looks between you and his erection with fear in his eyes. it only makes the situation that much better for you as you continue to humiliate your own bully.

"u-uh, this isn't, um–" "don't try and tell me this isn't what it looks like, potter. i know exactly what's going on here." you interrupt him and cross your arms. "you're such a loser that the only way you can get off is by having girls hate you. y'know, most guys get erections from making out with a girl, not getting threatened by them." you mock him, still a hint of anger laced in your voice.

harry's looking at you with that same innocent expression, but there's something else in his eyes that makes you pause. he's not just embarrassed, he's actually enjoying what you're saying to him. you can see his pupils dilate just looking at you, his bulge only becoming more obvious the longer you mock him.

you want to be disgusted at this situation. you want to hate the way harry's looking at you and leave the room with a huff to tell everyone about his little kink. you want to call him a disgusting creep and slap him across the face for ever thinking of you in such a way. but, you don't. because you can't.

you should be disgusted. you should be creeped out. but, for some reason, you're just not. you should be filled with rage ready to tell him off again, but, instead, you find yourself full of curiosity and…flattery?

of course it's never flattering for a guy to get an erection thinking about you being upset with him, if anything it's quite morbid. however, with you and harry, everything finally started to make sense. this is why he was always pushing your buttons just to get a rise out of you, or why he seemed to thrive off of your heated interactions. because he did. he found pleasure in your anger.

again, you should be fuming, but you're just not. your heart is racing and so is your mind. you're completely flustered at this point, possibly even more than harry is. you can feel the blush on your neck and cheeks and can't tell if the embarrassment you're feeling is secondhand or not.

still looking up at you, harry attempts to cover his erection up again with his pants. you just laugh at him again as there's no real point, you're more than well aware of his predicament at the moment. his blush is so severe he's nearly completely red, and you can see his hair start to stick to his forehead from the sweat. while you'd usually feel nothing but contempt looking down at harry's innocent expression, this time you feel a bit different. he almost looks younger now, his eyes soft and lips slightly hung open.

you notice the bandage around his scar starts to lift a bit around his eye, so you sigh and place a hand on his bandage to help reattach it. again, harry almost winces at your movement, and you can see his erection twitch under his pants. god, he really does get off on this.

while fixing it, harry's still watching you intently. "i'm sorry," his voice is soft but deep, making your blood run cold. you pause to look him in the eyes. "and what are you sorry for?" you lead him on.

harry's brows furrow together slightly. "for…well, y'know," he trails off, offering a fake, awkward chuckle. you smirk as you look back at his bandage. "no, i don't know. so why don't you tell me, potter?" you ask teasingly.

without fail, harry shifts in his seat uncomfortably and tries to subtly hide his erection again. your smirk only grows at his predictability.

"u-uh, well, i-i'm sorry for…for, um, getting turned on by you…" his stuttering is only making you enjoy the moment more. maybe part of you likes seeing him squirm like this under your hand. "by me…?" you lead him on again, taking a step away to examine his bandage. harry swallowed nervously watching you. "by you…being mean to me." he says meekly, his voice small and embarrassed.

you smirk at him again and decide to test the waters. "good boy."

harry's face absolutely drains of color. you can practically see his heart thumping out of his chest. and, if you weren't wrong, his hands actually started shaking in his lap.

you start laughing again at his reaction, hardly able to hold back from how funny this situation was to you. harry potter, the school's bad boy, the top slytherin student, the quidditch captain, your biggest rival, has a literal kink for being degraded. and he had the nerve to ever try and call you a loser.

"sorry, it's just so funny to me," you tell him between laughs, wiping tears from your eyes. "actually, no, i'm not sorry. i think you deserve to be laughed at for this. what guy actually gets horny from girls being mean to him?" you ask rhetorically, crossing your arms again and examining harry in front of you.

he's completely disheveled and getting sweatier by the minute. he breaks eye contact after your question, nervously scratching the back of his neck to waste time. "uh…" he starts off, clearly not knowing what to say to that. you just continue smirking, watching him struggle. "i mean, is it every time a girl is mean to you this happens? i'd imagine with your attitude that would be pretty often." you joke, partially curious but mostly just trying to make him squirm more.

harry shakes his head, both of his hands rubbing at his face and wiping the sweat from his hairline. "n-no, it's, uh…" he starts again, eventually trailing off with a sigh. you start tapping your foot impatiently. "i'm waiting." you say in a mocking tone.

harry tenses again, still not looking back up at you just yet. his body language is clearly uncomfortable and defensive. "it's not…all girls, okay? it's just…you." he finally spits out, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words. "this only happens with you, i swear. a-and it's only started this year, and i don't know why." he rambles, speaking with his hands, his eyes still fixated on the floor.

for once, you're speechless. you weren't expecting that confession from him, and you certainly didn't know how to react to it in the moment. i mean, this potter kid has had it out for you since day one, he's practically made you two enemies on the field and off, and now he wants to tell you all this? it's a bit confusing, to say the least.

harry sighs, resting his face in his hands once again. "look, i'm sorry about all of this, okay? all of it, not just today, but everything. i shouldn't have been so rude to you all this time, especially not for the reasons i have…" you can practically hear harry wincing at his own words. he uncovers his face but continues to look down. "just…please, please, don't tell anyone. i know that's asking for a lot considering all i've done to you, but…please, [y/n]." he's nearly begging.

you just watch him carefully, trying to figure out how to respond to all of this. on one hand you're inclined to feel insulted, disrespected, and downright disgusted at this information, but in reality…you're just obscenely curious. i mean, how often does a guy get turned on by you being mean to him? and not just you, but specifically, only you. does that mean he actually likes you? or is it only a sexual thing? and how would that even work?

as your mind continues to raise more and more questions, you feel yourself speaking before you even decide what to say.

"fine, i won't tell anyone. if," you take a slow step towards harry. he looks up at you with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. your heart leaps at the sight of him so vulnerable beneath you. it's as if you can see him thinking anything, anything for you.

you're not sure what's possessing you in this moment, but you can't stop yourself from pushing the limits further between you and harry. again, your mouth starts speaking for you.

"if…you let me help." you say with a smirk, closing the gap between you and harry and standing between his legs once again. he's looking up at you in complete shock, his eyes examining every inch of you in front of him. he's trying to speak but his mouth just keeps opening and closing, gasping for air and nervously chuckling.

arms still crossed, you wait for harry to say something and enjoy seeing him be the speechless one this time.

he eventually looks back up at you, biting his lip again and leaning back slightly. "help…me?" he asks, confused. you laugh at him, shaking your head. "yes, potter. help you. can't have you leaving here with that," you motion down to his pants with your head. "can we?" you ask seductively.

again, you're not sure what's making you act like this right now, but you honestly didn't mind it. you already got a kick out of insulting harry anyway, why not watch him struggle a bit harder under your thumb in this tiny exam room?

harry's completely frozen. you smile at him this time, the most genuine one you could muster in the moment. "if you want to, of course," you say quietly, softening your gaze at him and fixing his messy hair. harry makes a soft sound and leans into your touch, his eyes closing. you giggle to yourself, he just looks so innocent resting in your hand.

the moment didn't last long as you tighten your grip on the hair on the back of harry's head, pulling it so he's looking right at you. his eyes open and a soft whine escapes his lips. "i'll take that as a yes?" you ask smugly, leaning down until your faces were nearly touching. harry does his best to nod his head, swallowing nervously and glancing at your lips.

you smile at him again. something just felt so right when you were in control, seeing harry's front disappear as he became a mess in your hands. you felt powerful, confident, and, to your dismay, insanely turned on from the entire situation. your feelings of hate and desire for harry drove you mad, yet he seemed more than willing to be the recipient of both.

so, you lean forward, and you kiss him.

it's soft at first, slow, shy, you feel like harry's barely breathing. eventually he catches up, nearly moaning into your mouth as you feel your stomach fluttering. you put your other hand on his cheek and sit on harry's lap, your knees resting on the cot around harry's hips. you feel his hands tread carefully up your thighs and under your shorts, his fingers digging into your skin roughly.

this time you can't hold back your moans, causing harry to melt even more into you. his lips were soft, careful, but so eager. it's like he was starving and yet still took his time with you.

you pull away slightly, your breath heavy and forehead resting on harry's. "lay down," you command him, climbing off his lap. harry quickly lies back on the cot, kicking off his shoes in the process. you do the same before crawling back on top of him, carefully resting your ass directly on his erection.

harry openly groans, his hands reaching for your hips and squeezing the skin roughly. you bite your lip to hold back another moan. you slightly adjust your position and cause harry's head to roll back against the cot. "[y/n]..." is all he manages to say in his broken voice.

he's already such a mess and all you've done is sit in his lap. who would've known all this time his teasing you was just a cover up for this?

"this'll be easy. you're already practically falling apart on me, potter." you tease him, your cold fingers finding their way under his jersey. harry's body shivers, his hands moving from your hips to your waist. his fingers crawl under your shirt as well and cause your skin to break out in goosebumps.

he slightly smirks at this reaction, but you don't let him have his moment for long. "and don't get cocky," you warn him before you start grinding on his erection. his head rolls back in pleasure again, his mouth hanging open and fingers digging into your skin. you smirk to yourself. "don't forget you're the loser who likes to be insulted here." you remind him harshly, your hands running along his chest under his jersey.

harry's noises are completely pathetic, his hips bucking into yours for even the slightest bit more friction. you stop grinding into him and he lets out a shaky breath, looking at you with needy eyes. he looks so worked up already and you've barely done a thing.

"shirt off," you tell him, pulling at the material. harry, again, doesn't hesitate to follow instructions. he removes his hands from your waist and quickly takes off his jersey, throwing it to the floor.

your breath hitches in your throat looking at harry's soft, sweaty skin in the dim fluorescent lighting of the exam room. you never realized just how toned his shoulders and chest were, or how many scars and bruises he seemed to have, both new and fading.

you look back up at harry, his eyes nervously watching your every move. you lean in to kiss him again, messier, needier. his hands return to your hips and practically force you to start grinding on him again. you would've intervened if you weren't just as desperate to continue rolling your hips into harry's hard erection.

a soft moan comes from your lips as you grind into him harder, your hands resting on his chest for support. harry groans, his brows furrowing. "shit," he mutters, only encouraging you to go faster.

you could feel how wet you were through your panties. your stomach was tightening already, making you feel a bit embarrassed of your own desperation. seeing harry be so willing to please you only had you wanting him more.

just as you start to feel yourself blush at your lack of self control, you notice harry's panicked expression, his grip on your skin guaranteed to leave bruises. "what's wrong?" you ask, somewhat sarcastically and also concerned.

he struggles to get a sound out. "hmph, gonna, fuck, please, don't," he's stumbling through his words, barely able to keep his eyes focused on you. his hands try to stop your hips, but his grip his weak.

"stop what?" you ask curiously, slowing your hips slightly but rolling into him harder. harry moans, his hand covering his mouth hearing how loud it echoed through the tiny room. you just laugh at him and pull his hand away, guiding it to your chest. harry's eyes widen, trying to pull his hand away.

"stop, gonna…cum, if you don't," harry whimpers, squirming under your weight as his legs try to escape. you take your opportunity and pick up your pace, giving harry an evil smile.

"aw, already?" you ask, forcing his hand back to your chest. you guide his fingers along the curves of your breasts through your thin tank top, causing him to breathe even heavier. "you haven't even gotten to see these, and you're already about to cum? i was right, you're such a fucking loser, potter." you tell him, guiding his hand back under your shirt.

you can feel him struggling under you even more, his torso only getting sweatier. you just grab for his other hand and guide it under your shirt as well. he watches as intently as he can, his eyes still rolling back in pleasure at the pressure in his lap.

you help him lift his hands higher and higher until he's cupping your tits under your shirt, your breathing becoming hitched at the feeling of his rough fingers running across your sensitive nipples.

"fuck," you say under your breath, loud enough for harry to moan and grope you rougher, lifting your shirt above your tits. you gasp at the feeling and look back down at him, a sweaty mess with eyes barely open.

"please, please," harry starts begging, his hips still trying to squirm away from you. you place your hands on his sides and push him down, continuing to chase your high. "just stay still, harry," you nearly whimper. you realize you've never called him by his first name either.

that's when he comes completely unraveled beneath you. he's practically crying out in pleasure and desperation, his hands roughly squeezing the soft skin of your tits as his head is thrown back against the cot. just watching him fall apart like this has you shaking on top of him, feeling the warm wetness of your panties leaving a mark on harry's jeans.

it takes a few moments for both of you to come back to earth. harry's hands eventually loosen their grip on you before quickly pulling away, his eyes wide and panicked again. "sorry," he says quickly, his cheeks completely flushed.

you just shake your head and laugh, climbing off of harry's lap and adjusting your shirt. harry sits up and runs his hands through his hair, trying to catch his breath still.

the room is a bit awkward, but you eventually start to chuckle and push harry's shoulder lightly. "so…" you lead him on. harry chuckles as well, hanging his head low. "so…" he repeats, his voice still soft.

"so…is it wrong of me to assume you might actually like me?" you ask, picking up harry's jersey and handing it to him. he offers you a shy smile and puts it back on, shaking his head. "y'know, i'm not sure there's a way i could've made it more obvious." he admits half heartedly.

you laugh again, feeling a blush crawl up your cheeks. you turn away from him and grab your sweatshirt from the sink, the sleeve still completely stained.

"i really am sorry about that, i have a few you could borrow if you'd like." he says with a smirk, pointing towards your sweatshirt. you roll your eyes. "well, good to know your cockiness hasn't gone anywhere." you respond, suppressing a smile.

he chuckles. "never will." he says confidently. you give him a look and take a step towards him, causing him to swallow nervously.

you laugh at him again. "yeah, okay, pretty boy." you tease him, stepping away and towards the door. he follows behind you, still blushing like crazy.

leaving the exam room you notice all the nurses are still running around like lunatics, having no idea what's just happened only a few feet away from them. you and harry share a knowing look before running off together, laughing as you reach the halls.

"y'know," harry says between laughs, looking over at you with nothing but love in his eyes as you continue walking the empty halls. "don't think i'll go easy on you tomorrow just because of…that." he says, motioning behind him with a shy smile. you smile back at him and offer your hand. harry looks a bit hesitant, but shakes it anyway. "wouldn't want it any other way, potter."

tag list:

@gorlsinmultifandoms @treacletartlett @lucasinclairsgf @stvrlavs @dinomdubs

if you'd like to be part of my tag list, just leave a comment or message me! if you enjoyed this please let me know, your comments make my day <3

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moonlit-heartbreak · 7 months ago

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Love Languages

Xaden, Liam, Bodhi, Garrick x Reader Warnings: Slight spoilers for FW and IF, some suggestive comments and themes but nothing too explicit a/n: I love these men a little bit too much, so now you all get to enjoy my takes on each of their love languages for my first post🤭. It’s a little short and all over the place, but once my finals are over expect some longer works. Definitely let me know what you all think!

Xaden - Acts of Service

Listen, he's an important guy both as wingleader and a lieutenant and now in being on the front lines of a war, so he has to make sure to keep everyone's respect, and of course keep them all a little scared of him, so he can't get all lovey-dovey with you in public

Instead I see him being big on acts of service. Leaving you an extra piece of bread he grabbed at breakfast that morning, sharpening your swords/daggers so you're set to go for training, things of that nature

He would want to be there for you and let you know that he's looking out for you and acts of service is the perfect way for him to do that subtly but still being more involved in directly making you happy

Don't get me wrong though, when you're alone the acts of service definitely don't stop and he's good at what he does. With this I don’t mean JUST sex (even though it’d be amazing), but he would also love to brush your hair, give you a massage, whatever he can do to make you feel loved and cared for after a long day of classes and training

If there’s something specific you liked back home like a specific snack or item just know that once he finds out he’s going to be bribing one of the fliers to get it for him during a supply run so he can surprise you with it just so he can see your face light up

It works out perfect for you because not only is he making you feel like the most special person in the world with everything he does for you and how well he knows you, but getting perks like him keeping you off the schedule for your least favorite chores doesn't hurt either

The moral of the story is that he would literally do anything to make you happy, and despite how tough he acts you've got him completely wrapped around you finger

Liam - Words of Affirmation

For someone who's experienced so much loss before, he still manages to be SO kind and caring and this would 100% come through in the way he acts with his significant other, especially in terms of how he speaks to them

In public this would probably come off more as supportive and encouraging comments, helpful tips for training, or even just a quick compliment thrown in here or there. He's one of the more laid back out of all of the guys, but he still knows not to let his kindness be mistaken for weakness or allow anyone to try and use you against him, so he's careful to keep a good balance of keeping his guard up and being sweet with you

With that though, neither of you really have anything to worry about. He's the strongest cadet in his year and he trusts that you can hold your own so he'd still be pretty open with you in public

He's the type of guy who would never want to say goodbye without an 'I love you" thrown in there, even if you'd had a disagreement or you're (somehow) upset with him. Words are so important to him and he's going to make sure to tell you how he feels no matter what

I mean think about it, with all those letter he wrote to Sloane this man is a master at communication and he knows how to do it well

SO good at reassuring you. Ever doubting yourself or your abilities? Worried you’re not being a good enough partner? Nervous about opening up to him about something? He knows exactly what to say to calm you down or make you feel better every single time without fail. He just has such a way with words, and when he speaks to you in that soft "everything's going to be alright" voice there's no way you wouldn't feel at least a bit better

I have no doubt in my mind that he would have the sweetest nicknames for you and know exactly what to say when you need it, he’s just the sweetest thing to grace the continent and you’ll be reminded of that every time he speaks his sweet words that make your heart flutter

Bodhi - Physical Touch

This man... I definitely see him lovinggg physical touch. He needs you like he needs air to breathe and he isn't afraid to let the rest of the world know it

He's a confident guy so naturally he'd love to show off his significant other; walking with an arm slung over your shoulder or around your waist, sitting right next to you during meals so that your arms and legs brush against each other, holding hands or even just loosely linking your fingers together while you study, he loves it all

You two have definitely been told to get a room once or twice during training when your sparring sessions get a little too intense (gods bless the innocent bystanders who have to bear witness to that, especially the poor boys who are practically his brothers)

Obviously he knows how to balance his leadership responsibilities with spending time with you so he knows when he has to take a step back and get serious, but trust me, every chance he gets he's finding a way to be right next to you

When you guys are alone... oh boy get ready to be next to him all night long. Whether you’re laying together on one of your beds just talking before you settle in to sleep for the night, sitting on his lap while you both work on your own assignments, showering together, he’ll find a way to make everything a team effort just to be as close to you as possible

Don’t worry though, he knows when to give you your space so if there’s ever a day where you simply want a little alone time he would never push any boundaries and would respect whatever you wanted. However, if you’re trying to avoid him because you’re upset or anything of that nature he’s going to figure out what’s wrong and make sure you’re alright

Bodhi Durran the man that you are... At the end of the day he would be such a sweet partner to you and all of his actions, from full on cuddling to just brushing past each other briefly in the hallway, proves to you every day that he adores you

Garrick - Quality Time

Garrick is definitely more on the serious side, especially in public, but don't underestimate him as a partner because this man knows how to make you feel loved

Being close to you serves multiple purposes for him; it lets him keep an eye on you to make sure you're safe, and it simply brings him the sense of comfort he always gets from being near you

He’s super secure in himself and you, not doubting either of your abilities or your love for one another but just getting to be around you makes him happy. Whether it be sitting together to study, you talking his ear off about whatever antics you and your squad got up to that day, or even just training at the same time even if you’re on opposite sides of the gym sparring with different partners. Spending time with you or just being near each other is how he shows that he's there for you and that he loves you so he'll take whatever time he can get

With spending so much time with you and the fact that he’s a very observant guy, he would be able to read you like a book. There’s no hiding how you’re feeling because he’ll pick up on all of your little tells and know exactly how to go about making you feel better

Along with how observant he is and how deeply he knows you, I also feel like he would give amazing advice too. Disagreement with a friend? Not able to get the hang of a new weapon you’ve been training with? Stressed about an exam and not sure how to study? He has advice for all of it, and he knows when to step in and help you but also when you’ll want to be left alone to figure things out yourself

Whenever you both get a day off (which wouldn’t be often, I mean you have a war to prepare for) it’s always spent together. When you’re able to get some time together in Aretia, he’d take you to some tucked away corner of Riorson House him and Xaden would hang out in as kids just so you could get a few uninterrupted moments alone together, which you both cherish more and more as you inevitably get busier

He might be one of the most intimidating out of all of his friends and arguably out of most other riders as well, but underneath that sexy muscly exterior, he’s got a crazy soft spot for you; and while it might not be fully apparent to anyone who isn’t looking closely enough, you know just how much he loves you and that’s all that matters to the two of you

#fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #iron flame #iron flame x reader #xaden riorson #liam mairi #bodhi durran #garrick tavis #xaden riorson x reader #liam mairi x reader #bodhi durran x reader #garrick tavis x reader

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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 2 months ago

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hiii - I read a bunch of your works and I loved them so much!

do you think you could do a minho (or one for everyone) piece where he's feeling burnt out but he's been trying to hold it together (maybe he's been quite successful at not making it known to the guys) because he doesn't want to be a bother y/n hasn't been around much (but has been texting to check in on him) because of university or work. but through those texts, you get a sense he's not himself and when you finally see him in person, you can tell he's trying to hold it together but the second you say "it's been hard, hasn't it?" He immediately break and y/n is there to pick him up.

okay this was a bit more specific than I intended so feel free to do your own thing but I think it would be nice to have a y/n comforting the member thing but only if youre up for it!!

Thank you and feel free to say no as well!! I understand that you've got a whole bunch of other things to do too

Thank you and have a great week.

Put Your Head on My Shoulder | Minho

Minho x gn!reader >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Minho sat on the edge of his bed, his phone resting in his hand as he stared blankly at the screen. Another text from you, asking how he was. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to reply, but the words wouldn’t come.

He was burnt out. He had been running on fumes for weeks now-between rehearsals, performances, and schedules that seemed never-ending, the burnout had crept up on him slowly, until it swallowed him whole.

Still, he had been holding it together. At least, he thought he had.

The guys hadn’t noticed, or if they did, they hadn’t said anything. He’d become good at hiding it- smiling, joking, and keeping up the act, because that was what everyone expected of him. Minho was the strong one, the calm one, always in control. But beneath the surface, he was unraveling.

He didn't want to place that burden on anyone- let alone you who had been an unexpected blessing in his life. An unexpected meeting that turned into him freefalling for you fast and hard and more passionate than he had ever loved anyone before.

He needed you and he didn't want to do anything that could potentially jeopardize his chance at forever with you.

You probably didn't want to date a burnt out man...

He rubbed his temples, feeling the tension radiating behind his eyes, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Your text still glowed on the screen:

Hey, love, how’s everything going? You okay?

You had been checking in on him more often lately, even though you were busy with university. He could tell you were worried, even if you didn’t say it outright. And somehow, through just those few words, you knew him better than anyone else. As if your souls were connected.

Minho didn’t reply. He didn’t have the energy to put up a front, and he didn’t want to worry you more than he already had. He figured if you sensed something was off out of the blue, you could detect his lies through the phone.

He sighed and placed his phone face-down on the bed, willing the exhaustion away, knowing it wasn’t going anywhere.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

It had been almost two weeks since you and Minho had last seen each other. Between your classes and his packed schedule, finding time to meet up had been nearly impossible. But today was different. You had wrapped up your work early and decided it was time to check on him- really check on him. His texts had been growing shorter, his replies delayed, and every instinct told you that something was wrong.

And you supposed you could give some credit to Han, who had willingly snitched to you about how his Hyung was falling asleep in public places.

And how he:

"-didn't even react to a cat picture. That's a red flag, Hyung loves cats."

You knew Minho didn’t like to show when he was struggling. He had a habit of carrying everything on his shoulders without asking for help, but you had seen through that long ago.

The plan was simple: drop by his place, surprise him, and figure out what was going on.

When you arrived, you knocked softly, waiting for a response. After a moment, you heard shuffling on the other side, and the door creaked open.

Minho stood there, and your heart sank immediately. He looked exhausted- his usual sharp features softened by the weight of whatever he was carrying. His skin was dry, and his hair disheveled. His eyes, normally so full of mischief and light, were dull, and there was a tightness in his expression that he hadn’t quite managed to hide.

"Y/N-ah," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

You smiled gently, stepping inside and wrapping your arms around him without a second thought, snuggling your head into his chest. "Hey, Min. You look like you need a break."

He chuckled softly, but there was no real humor behind it. "I’m fine. Just…a little tired."

You pulled back, studying his face, and it hit you just how much he had been pushing himself. There was a heaviness in the air between you, and you could see that he was barely holding it together. You sighed.

You led him to the couch, sitting down next to him. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the quiet stretching between you like a fragile thread.

Finally, you spoke, your voice soft but firm.

"It’s been hard, hasn’t it?"

At those words, you felt the subtle shift in the air, like the last thread of his composure snapped.

Minho’s catlike eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, he blinked rapidly, trying to brush it off, to give you a small smile like he always did so he wouldn't be a burden- so he wouldn't give you any reason to judge, to leave; but this time that flippant smile didn’t reach his eyes. His lips trembled slightly- and then, all at once, the mask fell.

He broke.

Minho let out a shaky breath, his hands coming up to cover his face as his shoulders slumped. You could hear the quiet sound of his breath hitching, the sound of someone who had been holding on too tightly for too long.

"Don't look." He whined, but you didn't listen.

Without a word, you scooted closer, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him against your chest. He didn’t resist, allowing himself to collapse into your embrace, his body trembling slightly as he let go of everything he had been bottling up. He buried his face into your shoulder, his breath coming in uneven waves.

"Shh," you whispered, rubbing gentle circles on his back. "It’s okay, Min. You don’t have to hold it together anymore."

Minho didn’t say anything, but his grip on your shirt tightened. For a while, you just held him, the soft sound of his breathing filling the space. He was always so strong, always so composed, but here, in your arms, he let himself be vulnerable. This was the first time you had ever seen him be vulnerable. And knowing im, you figured this wouldn't be a super common occurence but you basked in it nonetheless, happy that he felt comfortable enough to break in froont of you.

And you held him, letting him know that it was okay to lean on you-that he didn’t have to carry everything on his own.

After a while, his breathing steadied, and you felt him relax slightly against you. You pulled back just enough to look at him, brushing a few stray strands of hair from his face. His eyes were red-rimmed, his breathing clogged, but there was a softness there now- a quiet relief, like he had finally let down the walls he’d been building for so long.

"You don’t have to pretend with me, Minho," you said quietly, your fingers still gently combing through his hair. "I’m here."

He swallowed hard, blinking back the last of his tears. "I just…didn’t want to bother you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, giving him a small, sad smile. "You could never be a bother. Not to me."

There was a long pause, and then Minho leaned his head against your shoulder, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away as he rested against you. "Can I just…stay like this for a while?"

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. "Of course," you whispered. "As long as you need."

You could feel him relax further, his head heavy against your shoulder as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. You leaned back into the couch, and he shifted slightly, resting more comfortably against you.

"Put your head on my shoulder," you murmured softly, a quiet invitation to let go. And he did. He leaned into you, kicking his legs into your lap, his head nestling into the curve of your neck, his breathing becoming slower and more even as he allowed himself to cling close to you and simply be in your presence.

The room was quiet, the only sound the steady rhythm of your breathing in sync. You held him close, feeling the weight of everything he had been carrying, and you wished you could take some of that burden away. But for now, this was enough.

"You’ve been working so hard," you whispered, your voice soft as you stroked his hair. "It’s okay to rest."

Minho sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzled a little closer. "I don’t know what I’d do without you," he mumbled, his voice drowsy now, the emotional weight finally catching up to him.

"You’ll never have to find out," you said, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

Time passed in a comfortable silence, and after a while, the weight on your body became heavy as you realized Minho had drifted off to sleep, his body fully relaxed against you. You smiled softly, brushing your fingers through his hair once more, marveling at how peaceful he looked now.

He had been trying so hard to hold everything together, but here, in this moment, he had finally let himself be vulnerable. And you were grateful that he trusted you enough to let go, to rest, to lean on you.

You knew that when he woke up, he’d still have the weight of his responsibilities waiting for him. But for now, he was safe, cradled in the warmth of your arms, where he didn’t have to be anything but himself.

And as you sat there, holding him close, you knew that no matter what came next, you’d always be there to catch him when he fell- to remind him that he didn’t have to face everything alone.

With a soft smile, you rested your cheek against the top of his head, closing your eyes and letting the quiet comfort of the moment wash over you both.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

#skz imagines #skz x reader #skz stay #skz fluff #stray kids reactions #stray kids #skz reactions #skz #skz minho #lee minho #skz minho fluff #lee minho fluff #skz lee know #lee know fluff #pnutbutternjelyy #🥜🧈🪼

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catnippackets · 9 months ago

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disclaimer: as a sex-repulsed aroace person myself--

on one hand, there is definitely a bit of a double standard when it comes to handling canonically queer characters like, from what I've seen in the circles that I frequent (if you've had different experiences then great but I'm just telling it how I see it). for example, you're morally reprehensible if you ship a canon lesbian with a man or refer to a canon bi character as a lesbian. people will be so angry with you. and it's understandable, since there's so little queer rep in comparison to cishet rep that when there IS a rare actual queer character, the unofficial rule is "don't take that away from them when you add more headcanons to them". like, respect that this one is REAL and NOT just a headcanon. I think it makes perfect sense to feel upset when people take that away, even if it is just fiction and not even canon to the original source. and yet, whenever there exists a canon asexual character suddenly it's all "oh well asexual people can still have sex so it's fine if we headcanon THIS canon sexuality as something different". it makes me feel so genuinely heartache-y and depressed to see ppl ignoring that aspect of a character.

and by "canon" I'm also including characters that were never specifically referred to with a label but are very obviously coded as something, because those characters will still get the "even if it's not stated it's pretty obvious!!" treatment when it comes to showing attraction to the same gender, but not when they DON'T show attraction to any gender. like aro and/or ace coding just doesn't count. I understand that it's kind of hard to represent an absence of something, especially when you're only implying it and not even directly showing it, but it's not impossible. there's a lot of characters that you could argue are aroace coded the same way you could argue a character is gay coded. obviously to a degree every queer identity gets disrespected in fandom and it's something you just kinda have to deal with, but it's easier to notice when it's something you personally relate to. I don't think it would bother me as much if we didn't have that unofficial "respect the canon" rule and everyone just went wild with whatever, but the double standard does genuinely hurt me, especially when I see people I thought were cool about this stuff participating in it. so whenever I see someone fiercely defending an asexual character it really makes me feel good, like I'M being defended, not a random fictional character that I might not even recognize the name of. I feel safe, like that person will respect ME.

THAT BEING SAID,

AS a sex-repulsed aroace person who enjoys thinking about the entire spectrum of intimacy and where a character may fall exactly on that spectrum, ALSO as a person who is aware that "asexual" simply means "does not experience sexual attraction" and not necessarily "is violently repulsed by anything sexual", sometimes I DO want to play out scenarios for my own enjoyment. sometimes I DO want to think hm I wonder where this ace character's line is, compared to a different ace character. I wonder if there is anyone who would be an exception for them, and how they could go about dealing with that exception. I wonder if they're favourable, neutral, or repulsed. if those aspects of their character aren't explicitly stated then what's to stop me from playing around with them and working through my own issues in a controlled and non-canon environment? if they have the same identity as me, I am way more likely to want to play around with them like a doll and perhaps play out scenarios that I might have thought about before but don't actually want to do for real. I'm not taking away their identity, after all; I'm just, in this scenario, imagining this ace character as an ace that might have sex on at least one occasion for whatever reason. either just to try it, or because they do have someone they'd make an exception for, or if they got bored enough, whatever the reason. it isn't quite disrespecting their truth unless it's explicitly stated either in canon or by word of god that it's something they're uncomfortable with. and to be honest, if I see another asexual creator headcanoning a character as somewhere on the asexual spectrum and depicting them in sexual situations, it makes me almost happy, to know that they're still acknowledging that character's canon identity and accepting and exploring the nuance that could come with it, even if I personally believe that this specific character would be repulsed instead of neutral or favourable. there's this understanding of "I'm doing a character study exploration thing", and not "I don't care I just wanna sexualize this character"

but I literally feel GUILTY when I want to write what is essentially a thinkpiece disguised as a fanfiction or original story on asexuality and take an asexual character (canon or coded) and involve them in sexual situations to explore different avenues of the spectrum. I feel like I'm betraying everyone who's like me and is frustrated with how aroace characters are treated within fandom. I'm like "am I being just as bad as those other people who will disrespect a character's canon sexuality just because they think that character is hot and want to ship them with someone? do they do the same thing with other types of queer characters? how does this reflect that person's view of people, if they're explicitly told someone feels a certain way and decides to ignore it for their own amusement? or is it just because they're fictional and not real people and I'm being really sensitive and thinking way too much into it? am I not doing the exact same thing? do I have more credence to explore scenarios like this because I am aroace and sex-repulsed myself and therefore have a pass to do whatever I want and it won't come off as a little weird the way it might if someone who's allosexual did it?"

and these two opinions are at war in my mind constantly. like both of them can and do co-exist but I still struggle to accept that lol

#ramblings #asexuality #I almost kinda wanna make a video on this bc I feel like just writing does not even explain what I'm trying to say

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utilitycaster · 3 months ago

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Whenever people are like "well LIAM'S characters never faced any backlash when HE played characters in the spotlight" and "no one will let WOMEN have negative qualities" when Caleb and Vax and Orym have received pretty constant hate for main character/sadboy/scene stealing and when meta writers outright stopped talking about Imogen because a particularly mindless set of hit dogs are still hollering about how she is so good and kind and how dare you call her selfish, it's really like...in the service of trying to make your failure of a point you've just said something that literally anyone with a memory lasting longer than the apocryphal goldfish length can immediately debunk, which in turn absolutely shreds your credibility going forward, if you had it.

More generally there's something very vile here, because on the surface this statement does look like an attempt, if one ignorant of pretty much any fandom conversation, to defend women. The thing is it's come from a place of defending Dorian and Ashton's plan - a man, and a nb person who would not identify as a woman - that requires a particularly great deal of sacrifice from the women of the party. So of course they just switch tactics. Instead of "how dare the fandom not think women are always best" it's "how dare the fandom disrespect a disabled nb person and a person played by an indigenous actor." And I'm sure they'll switch again. Because pretty much every character in this campaign is on some axis of oppression, and there's a few people in this fandom who, instead of considering these things as important details that inform these characters, seem to largely treat their minority statuses as ammunition. Feminism and antiracism and queer advocacy are all just part of a shell game to them - accuse everyone who disagrees with them of being a bigot, say that their opinions are inviolate because they match that of literally any character who isn't a cis het white man, of which Bells Hells has none. Unsurprisingly, it's that social media purity culture that's just the evangelical church with a gay hat: they are always the victim, and everyone who disagrees is the devil, and being a good person always happens to line up with what you already wanted.

There are several posts from the past day or so accusing people of liking Campaign 3 less than the two previous ones which refused to accept that this might be due to the hurry-up-and-receive-an-infodump pacing, the singular focus without much time spent on backstory, the gaps in party composition, and the fact that the plot manages to combine the weakest elements of each campaign - the fetch quest/NPC guidance heavy nature of C1, and the meandering/slow start of C2. No, it must be the awful, sinful fandom unable to handle the lack of a major M/M ship (false; Dorian and Orym aren't canon, but neither were Vax and Gilmore, and the latter was sunk far sooner) and the fact that a female character is at the center of the story (see above re: how hostile the same people making these accusations have been to anyone who actually wants to discuss Imogen in a way that doesn't fit their specifications). Just to repeat this: many fans have outlined a number of purely narrative and structural reasons why C3 isn't working for them. These people have assumed this is all a lie, because assuming otherwise that would require either addressing these critiques, which in turn would require admitting other people can have valid opinions that oppose their own without being horrible bigots - in favor of throwing out whatever random accusations they think might stick. It doesn't matter what's actually being said; they're not actually listening, and for all they might talk about fans of color they sure all seem to be white; for all they talk about misogyny and queerphobia they sure won't hesitate to immediately assume the worst of queer people and women who say things they don't like. And rarely do they address any of the actual ongoing bigotry that does exist in the fandom; it's all random accusations because you agreed with the white woman instead of the brown man or vice versa; or it's the constant dredging of years past discourse that, as the first paragraph indicates, they will then ignore whenever convenient.

These are all pretty transparent signs of a bad faith actor spreading misinformation. To be clear I don't think this is any kind of conspiracy or has any organization to it. I think it's a just handful of deeply self-absorbed people who either refuse or literally cannot comprehend that someone could disagree with them without being a bad person and who will gleefully cry wolf with these accusations of bigotry. But it's been going on for quite some time and it's been a problem this campaign in a way I at least do not recall it in past ones, and it's had an absolutely devastating effect on the fandom conversation. Ironically, by trying to boost Imogen and Campaign 3 by shutting down any criticism of them, they've shut down far more of the conversation, hopefully not irreversibly, and I think it's time to point that out.

#it's all very *shoots gun at the fandom* why would the fandom do this #anyway. considering doing a little fact checking when i have the time for it.#cr tag

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wildernessuntothemselves · 1 year ago

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Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 3

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 3.3k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, semi-public sex, handjob, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, sub!beomgyu, dom!reader, sub!reader, dom!yeonjun.

A/N: so I have split the chapter into two to get it out faster and to give good time for events to sink in. sorry guys but also not very sorry because i like to torture you lol

"The girl you've been obsessed with for years has invited you to her party but instead of trying to talk to her, you’re hiding in the closet getting jerked off with her right outside. This is why she never gave you the time of day. You’re such a pervert, Beommie."

"Yes, baby. Whatever you say." Beomgyu breathes heavily, leaning into your touch. He always becomes so pliant once you have his dick in your hand.

"You've got nothing in your brain but sex, huh?" You ask, jerking him off and true to your words, he already looks so dumbed out.

“No.” He answers your rhetorical question, legs buckling when you drag your palm repeatedly over the head of his cock, precum sticking to your skin.

“Careful, Beommie. Don’t fall.” You laugh, your breath causing goosebumps to erupt along his neck, and he lays his head back to give you more space, silently asking you to kiss his neck, and you do, hearing him let out the prettiest half-moans half-pants.

“Can I cum?”

“Hmm.” You pretend to think about it for a few tortuous seconds, letting one of your hands trail under his shirt to play with his nipples.

“Baby!” He sputters, his nipples are just so sensitive.

“You can’t. You’ll make a mess and everyone will know what you did. They’ll all know you came all over yourself like a big pervert.” You choose your words specifically to rile him up, feeling his cock twitch in your hand.

“I don’t care. Just wanna cum.”

“But she’ll see, baby. She’s going to be disgusted.”

“I don’t care. I don’t c-care. Just need it.” He’s delirious, too gone to even think about her. Just the way you like him. You know he’s hanging by a thread and any second now he’s actually going to cum, and so regrettably, you let go of him, causing him to yell out.

“No!” He cries and you immediately cover his mouth with your hand to quiet him. “Hush, Beomgyu! Someone will hear you.”

“Why?” He cries out when you remove your hand.

“I told you. I don’t want you to make a mess. You can cum when we get home.”

It’s a lie, of course. Truthfully, you just wanted to punish him for once again openly salivating over her in front of you.

“Then let's go home.”

“Not yet. I wanna get a few drinks first. I’ll get out of the closet first. You wait a bit and come after me. You should probably wait a bit anyway for that to go down.” You grin, glancing at his poor red cock.

“You’re evil.”

“I know.” You put his dick back in his pants and zip them up. “Don’t touch yourself.”

You get out of the closet with a huge smile on your face. This evening started horribly with you having to sit beside Beomgyu and watch him tear through Haeun’s clothes with his gaze, openly lusting after her as if he doesn’t care who sees. But once you had enough alcohol in you, you decided to do something about it and whisper in Beomgyu’s ear to follow you to one of the closets. Being the horndog he is, he followed right after, finally interrupting his leering session.

Okay, maybe getting him to pay attention to you by giving him a handjob at a party wasn’t your proudest moment but you did get him to stop caring about her. Maybe in time you’ll get him to forget about her completely. Maybe he’ll even start looking at you differently, and he’ll realize you’re the one who truly loves him…Oh, who are you kidding? He has been obsessed with her for–

Lost in your thoughts, you smack right into someone, the drinks they were holding spilling all over the both of you.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I'm such a drunk idiot." You immediately go into apologizing, not wanting to antagonize the person further, but when you look up, instead of an angry frown greeting you, you see him with his head cocked to the side and a grin on his face. "That’s okay, doll."

“Yeonjun!” You gasp, slightly relieved knowing the person isn’t going to fight you, but still horrified at the damage you’ve done to his white shirt. “Your shirt is all ruined!"

"It's alright. It’s your dress I’m worried about."

You look down at your dress which was equally soaked and now clinging to your body uncomfortably. “Ah, shit. Let's go wash off before the stains will set."

You drunkenly drag him to the nearest bathroom. Once you’re inside, you turn to him. "Take off your shirt."

“Oh, is this finally happening?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes. “Off.”

"Bossy. I like it." He takes his shirt off and hands it to you, and you bashfully look away from his half-naked body, taking the shirt and running it under water while he grabs a towel and wets it, washing off his stomach, or more accurately–his abs.

Still, you can’t help but to sneak not so subtle glances at him, drawn to the sight, before blushing and looking away when he catches you.

“Like what you see, doll?” He teases, winking at you.

“Shut up.” You rub his shirt with some soap to get the last of the stain out.

“I can guarantee you, he doesn’t look like that.” His voice is suddenly so close to you, and you look up to see him right next to you, cornering you between his body and the sink.

“Stop it.” You put a hand to his chest, which you immediately come to regret as the skin on skin contact makes your treacherous heart flutter.

“Why? Why are you so hung up on him? The idiot doesn’t even realize how much you love him. He’s too preoccupied with her.” You try to look away at the painful mention of Haeun but Yeonjun gently turns your face back towards him. “Give me a chance to make you forget him.”

“Yeonjun…”

“Can I?” He leans forward, his face inches from yours.

Should you really be doing this? Beomgyu had told you to stay away from Yeonjun specifically. He would be very pissed off if he found out that you let him kiss you… but then again, why? Why can’t you kiss Yeonjun? It’s not like you and Beomgyu are together. You’re free to kiss whoever you want, dammit!

‘To hell with it.’ You think, surging forward to close the distance between you and Yeonjun.

His lips are the softest lips you’ve ever felt. Granted, you only kissed two other boys before, Beomgyu being one of them, but still. He was so confident with it too, guiding you and coaxing you to open up to him, letting him taste you and you him. It was slow, purposeful–so different from Beomgyu’s kisses.

No. You need to stop thinking about Beomgyu. That was the whole point. Forget Beomgyu.

“Get off her.” Beomgyu shouts.

Beomgyu?

Yeonjun moves away from you, or more accurately is pushed off you.

“Beomgyu, what are you doing here?” You gasp, horrified at having been caught by him as if you were cheating on him or something. It didn’t help that his reaction made it seem like you are.

“I was looking for you. I thought I told you to stay away from him.” He hisses, clearly angry which just pisses you off. Whatever fleeting sense of guilt you felt for kissing Yeonjun quickly dissipates in the face of his inexplicable wrath.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” You snap back. “And if I want to kiss Yeonjun, I will.”

“He’s my friend!” He shrieks, as if that means something.

“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t like him.”

Beomgyu reels at that. “You like him?”

Both boys stare at you expectantly, waiting for your answer, and you stammer under their gaze. “M-maybe I do.”

Beomgyu’s face hardens and he turns his back on you and walks out the door without another word.

What? What did you say?

“Oh no, did I just fuck up?” You fret, moving to run after him, but Yeonjun grabs your hand, stopping you. “No. You stood up for yourself. If he doesn’t want to be with you then he doesn’t get to tell you who you can be with.”

“You’re right. He’s not my boyfriend.” You try to assert, but quickly lose your confidence. “And now he will never be. He just saw me kissing his friend! That’s like incest!”

Yeonjun bursts out laughing at that. “What? That’s ridiculous. Do you even hear yourself?”

You want to be mad at him for trivializing how you feel. This is serious! You may have just lost your chance with Beomgyu! This is no laughing matter!

So then why are you laughing like he’s just cracked the funniest joke you’ve ever heard? “Oh my god, you’re right. What am I even thinking? This is stupid.” You huff out between cackles, “I’m so stupid.”

Yeonjun stops laughing first, gathering you in his arms and waiting for you to calm down. “You’re not stupid. You’re in love.”

“Yeah.” You confirm, bitterly.

“And he’s an ungrateful idiot.”

“Maybe.” You fiddle with your fingers. “But if there is a one percent chance I can be with him, I don’t want to ruin it by having him think I’m fucking his best friend.”

Yeonjun sighs, stepping back. “Fine, go to him. Explain what happened to him. But for the record, I think you’re making a huge mistake.”

“I know.”

______________________________

You scour the party looking for Beomgyu, but you can’t find him anywhere. Did he leave already? Is he that mad?

You lament your poor choices as you open up another door, stumbling across yet another couple engaged in less than savory activities with the woman spread out on the edge of the bed and the man with his face buried between her legs.

“Whoops, sorry!” You yelp, knee-jerk reaction to slam the door shut suddenly halted when the man kneeling on the floor turns towards you and you see an all too familiar face.

Beomgyu?!

They both stare at you, Haeun with her dress pushed up and Beomgyu with his lips glistening with something you don’t want to think about. He makes eye contact with you before he turns around and presses his face back between her legs.

That fucking slut.

You slam the door shut and storm off with another target in mind. When you spot the colorful haired man, you drag him behind you to one of the empty bedrooms you saw earlier.

"Hey, what’s going on--" You cut Yeonjun off with a kiss which he doesn’t resist much, making use of the unexpected opportunity. But when you separate, he takes the chance to ask, "What happened to Beomgyu?"

"Fuck him. I want you.” You kiss him again, suddenly nervous about what you’re going to ask now that you’re right in front of him. Still, you push through, murmuring against his lips, eyes sealed shut, "Want you to eat me out."

Unfortunately, Yeonjun doesn’t immediately give in as you had been praying he would, and he pulls back to ask you, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." You answer, still refusing to open your eyes. But the asshole won’t accept that.

“Look at me, doll.” He demands, cupping your face in his hands. You take a deep breath before opening them, looking him dead in the eyes. “I want it.”

"It just seems–"

"Do it, Yeonjun!" You snap then immediately regret it, feeling mortified at the possible rejection. God, you didn’t think this through, did you? Just because he wanted to kiss you, doesn’t mean he wants to eat you out in the middle of a party. He’s not Beomgyu. "Unless you don't want to."

Yeonjun lifts you up and drops you on the bed, the breath whooshing out of you as you make impact with the mattress. You don’t even get the chance to ask him what the hell he’s doing before he spreads your legs and gets between them. "It's my pleasure, doll."

He starts by licking over your panties, and you’re so glad he is easing you through it because even that makes you tingle. His tongue moves up and down your slit in slow, deliberate strokes, turning you on until you’re not sure if your panties are soaked because of your arousal or his saliva. And once it’s completely see-through, he hooks his finger under it, pulling it to the side.

The first direct touch of his hot tongue against your sensitive pussy has you jolting, your hands shooting out to grab at the sheets. But Yeonjun pulls away for a second, grabbing your hands and putting them on his head.

"You can hold onto my hair, doll." He grins, looking devastatingly handsome, “Pull on it when I do something you like.”

That’s a dangerous ask because you’re pulling his hair as soon as he puts his mouth on you again. Not that he minds, you can see his smirk as he stares up at you, tongue teasingly swirling around your swollen clit.

“Don’t tease.” You whimper, holding onto his hair tightly.

“Why not? You’ve teased me long enough, pretty girl.” He purrs, pressing soft kisses against your pussy while his thumb rubs maddeningly around your entrance.

“Yeonjun…” You whine, taking your hands away and trying to close your legs, but he pins your legs back down before returning your hands to his hair. “Keep your hands on me. I like it.”

“Pull my hair harder. I like it when you’re rough with me."

Beomgyu’s words ricochet inside your skull, tearing up your brain. No. Don’t think about him. He’s in another room with another woman, probably fucking her by now. Focus on the man who actually wants you.

“Did I lose you?” Yeonjun’s voice cuts through your tortured monologue.

You look at him, embarrassed at having been caught.

“Then let me make you forget about him.” He vows, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking on it, making your brain short-circuit.

“That’s it, doll. Just focus on me.” He flicks his tongue from side to side, causing electricity to shoot up to your belly.

“Oh god, Yeonjun!” You gasp, pulling at his hair, which just makes him do it with more fervor, alternating between rapid flicks and long languid licks up the entire length of your pussy. You’d be embarrassed by how quickly he builds up your high, if he didn’t look like he was enjoying it so much, moaning into your pussy and staring up at you as if he wants to eat you whole.

“Feels good?” He smirks, fingers finally breaching your empty pussy.

“Yes, yes!” You groan, head thrown back as he pumps his fingers inside you, his full lips latching onto your clit once more.

The feeling of his fingers filling you up, fucking you open, and the unrelenting attack on your clit from his mouth has you teetering on the edge in no time. But then an unwelcome image pops into your brain–Beomgyu with his messy hair and his lips swollen and glistening with arousal–and suddenly it wasn’t Yeonjun between your legs and it wasn’t Haeun Beomgyu was eating out…

No, it was you on the bed and Beomgyu between your legs, looking up at you with his big, brown eyes that seemed to beg you to cum, and you do. You have to bite down on your tongue to stop from screaming his name as you shudder and whine, thighs clamping around Yeonjun’s head.

Yeonjun.

You jerk up, orgasm still not quite passed, and blink the haziness away. God, you’re disgusting.

But Yeonjun has no idea what is going through your head. He has a big smile on his face, proud of himself for making you lose it so easily.

“You liked that, doll?” He climbs up your body to kiss you, and you hesitantly reciprocate, not wanting him to sense that anything is wrong. But when he starts getting handsy again and you feel his hard cock pressing against you, you quickly push him away.

"Wait. I can't–I'm sorry.” You stammer nervously.

“Oh. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” Whatever lie you were thinking of dies on your tongue when you make eye contact with him. You can’t lie to him. “I just need to go home."

“Of course.” He backs away, but you can see the disappointment on his face. “Is it… because of Beomgyu?”

You don’t reply, but that is all the answer he needed.

___________________________________

Still, he is gentleman enough to take you home.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” You tell him for the tenth time, feeling guilty after basically rejecting him.

“I know. I wanted to.” He reassures you once again, no hint of annoyance in his voice. “I know Beomgyu usually takes you home, but since he’s… occupied, I didn’t want you to walk home alone.”

“Right.” You mumble, staring at the ground as that painful image of Beomgyu between Haeun’s legs flashes in your mind. “Well, thank you… and I’m sorry. I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“Hey,” He walks towards you, propping your chin up with his finger. “You don’t have to apologize. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I know. I just wish things were different. I wish I wasn’t so pathetically in love with him that it feels wrong to even be with someone else. Which is stupid, I know. Beomgyu and I aren’t–” Your phone rings for the 10th time since you left the party, cutting you off, and you glare at the name flashing on the screen.

“Beomgyu again?”

“Yes.” You roll your eyes, silencing it.

“Answer it.”

You stare at him as if he grew a second head, and he rolls his eyes. “He’s probably worried about you. We left without saying a word to him.”

Damn it. You guess he’s right. You didn’t even think of that.

"Hello?" You press the phone to your ear but quickly move it away slightly at the immediate shouting coming from it.

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Home." You answer unenthusiastically, which just pisses Beomgyu off more. "You went home by yourself?"

"No, Yeonjun took me home." You elaborate nervously, scared of how he’s going to react, and boy, does he not disappoint. "Well this is just fucking great. I've been looking all over for you, freaked out of my mind that something happened to you and you're back home fucking my friend."

His words reignite your anger all over again. “I didn’t think you’d come up from between her legs long enough to notice.”

“So you’re getting back at me by fucking him?”

“I didn’t–you know what, Beomgyu. I can't deal with this right now. I'm going to bed."

"I’m not done–" You hang up on him, too exhausted to think about what any of this means.

"He's not happy, huh?"

"Nope." You sigh. What a fucking terrible night.

"I don't get him. If he's jealous, why doesn't he just ask you out?"

"He's not jealous. He's just–” Just what? Why is he even acting that way? What is he so angry about? Because you’re ‘fucking’ his friend? So what? “I don't know. It's complicated. We've been messing around and I guess he got annoyed when he saw us kissing."

“Well, are you guys dating?” Yeonjun asks and you almost laugh. “No. Nothing like that. Just… just messing around.”

"Then he has no right to be annoyed." He states simply, and he’s right. He doesn’t, and you can’t make sense of why he is so all you manage is to lamely mumble, "Well, he's protective of me."

To which Yeonjun snorts, "You mean possessive."

Is he? Why would he be? Is it because he is not used to you having a boyfriend before? Not that Yeonjun is your boyfriend.

"My brain hurts. I need to sleep." You groan, pulling at your hair in frustration before your hands fall to your sides with a slap. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun.”

“Don’t be.” He reassures you, “I’ll be here when that idiot inevitably does something to completely push you away.”

________________________________

A/N: as always I always love to hear feedback even if it's just how much you'd like to punch gyu lmao. currently i don't know how many parts the remaining plot will be divided into so it could be 2 or 3 more similar sized chapters to this.

just for fun, i'll do a poll every chapter to see if people change their minds on who they want oc to end up with. but i've already decided on what to do so the votes are just for fun

Taglist: @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr

#txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #beomgyu smut #yeonjun smut #fem!reader #dom!reader #sub!idol #sub!reader #dom!idol

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rubra-wav · 9 months ago

Note

Yes! That’s exactly what I meant with the butterflies and characters!

I now have another request for main cast +Rosie and how they’d react with a Toriel (undertale)! reader where they’re basically a super comforting mother-like figure. I specifically want their reactions to reader making Toriels iconic and homely butterscotch cinnamon pie.

The main cast + Rosie × Toriel-like reader hcs

[ Part 2/ x Lucifer ]

A/N Glad I got the first one right! I've mostly written this as generally parental to keep stuff more gn, but reader is definitely more maternal than paternal.

I love this prompt sm. Toriel is such a sweetheart, and I feel like a reader who's like her would be a massive help to the cast and their progress of redemption.

Cw: SFW, technically gn but I use the words 'mum or dad' to refer to reader, platonic, kinda hurt/comfort in parts, suggestive in Angel's, references to cannibalism in Alastor's and Rosie's

Charlie

- Charlie would love you so much.

- She's got absolutely horrendous unresolved parental issues from both parents, so she would attach to you so quickly.

- If you tell her how wonderful of a job she's doing and that you are proud of her as a warm, caretaking parental-like figure, then she's gonna be bawling like an absolute baby.

- You want an unofficially adopted daughter?

- When you bake her the pie, she will feel years of ignoring her damaged inner child absolutely smack into her at once.

- Runs over to you and just grips onto your shirt as she bawls into your shoulder, saying thank you over and over again and apologising for crying. Probably accidentally calls you mum or dad as you're there hugging her and is then super embarrassed after it.

- After that? Yeah, she just keeps calling you mum or dad accidentally. It just becomes habitual at some point, and everyone else in the hotel just kinda accepts it.

- I can see her unconsciously calling you mum or dad on the phone to Lucifer himself and Lucifer going nuts about it, thinking she's either talking about Alastor or Lilith has come back.

- It'll just be the Alastor shenanigans all over again, but when Lucifer actually sees you, he can't even be mad.

- You offer him tea and stuff you've made for his visit, and he's just there angrily stuffing his face while slightly crying because he's trying so hard to stay mad, but Charlie looks so happy as she talks animatedly about him to you and you're so genuinely sweet unlike Alastor.

- He's also lacking a massive spot missing in himself that Lilith left that you could fill.

- ... Want an unofficial adopted husband, too?

Vaggie

- At first, she really doesnt like you.

- Nah, she hates you straight up.

- Finds how you act for a demon to be greatly untrustworthy, and she's very defensive because she thinks you're just another Alastor who's trying to get close to Charlie to potentially harm her.

- After a while, though, she sees you are just genuinely a deeply abnormal demon as compared to what she's seen.

- Then she quickly warms up to you.

- She never thought she had any kind of missing parent spot in her heart, being an ex exterminator and all, but oh boy, was she wrong.

- She's never experienced any kind of presence like yours - as an exterminator, she didn't have parents.

- And because of that, she's suddenly found herself unable to stop crying for some reason as you hugged her and told her she's doing a really good job protecting everyone.

- She's never had that in this way. Charlie is, of course, supportive but not in a way that's parental.

- If you tell anyone about her crying in your arms, she says she will deny it and end you.

- When you offer her the pie, she doesn't break down like Charlie, but she's so happy. Has googly eyes about it and is fighting tears as you come and hug her.

- Very much appreciates you and all you do, in a much less 'going to start actually calling you mum/dad' way, though.

- Does somewhat attach to you like that however.

- Absolutely becomes particularly protective over you.

Angel Dust

- You vex him so greatly.

- At first, he thinks it's some kind of roleplay thing you were trying to get him to play out, and he's not into it at all.

- Downplays it if you're male with a; "Well, I'm not usually into that kinda calling people daddy, but -"

- Straight up tells reader he's not into that if reader isn't male, however.

- Is even more confused when you are horrified he thinks you're trying to bed him.

- All his years of coming across terrible people have made him avoid you like the plague, he doesn't trust you because you're just so?? Weird?

- Thinks you're trying to break his walls down with kindness so you can take advantage of him, so his guard is literally always all the way up with you.

- He cracks a bit, though, when he's had a rough night and you find him sitting on the lounge in the TV room with his head in his hands.

- You bring him a slice of the butterscotch cinnamon pie, hearing he likes sweet things, and some tea with a painkiller on the side of the plate.

- When he says thank you hesitantly, you just smile and hum before leaving.

- After that, he starts to warm to you.

- You help to patch him up if he ever gets injured and take care of him when he comes home wasted.

- When you patch him up/take care of him, you sometimes help brush his fur out, and he loves that a lot.

- Will lie about not liking it, though. He's not meant to like soft affection. It goes against his persona he tries to put on.

- The way he leans into your touch though whenever you do this is very telling.

Husk

- He doesn't like you at all.

- Finds the way you treat him deeply unsettling and borderline humiliating, and wishes you would just leave him alone.

- He's a grown man, he doesn't want to be treated like someone's kid - especially some random.

- When you back off, he's thankful for it.

- He appreciates when you do smaller gestures for him though that are less parental/ emotional and are more just practical.

- If you help him clean up, give him stuff to eat while he's working, volunteer to massage his shoulders, etc. He's happy.

- When you give him some of the butterscotch cinnamon pie, he's gonna bitch he doesn't like sweet things but he'll be lying about not liking it.

- Probably will try to recreate the recipe in secret late at night.

- Absolutely mortified when you find him absolutely covered in flour with a mixing bowl in his hands after hearing him sneeze loudly.

- The ingredients on the bench very clearly match what would be in a butterscotch cinnamon pie.

- When you say he could have just asked you what the recipe was, he gets incredibly defensive and vehemently denies it.

- You wave him off apologising for 'assuming wrong', then leave him to continue what he totally wasn't doing.

- He gives up after that and goes to bed rather embarrassed, getting caught on his bs.

- He's extra embarrassed when the next day he finds the recipe written on a piece of paper slid under his room's door.

- He acts like he doesn't like you still, but it's an absolute lie.

Sir Pentious

- Deeply paranoid about you in the beginning, naturally.

- He finds the way you act extremely strange and the way it makes him feel even stranger, so he avoids you for a while.

- One night when he thinks you're asleep he comes to look longingly at you like with other members of the hotel.

- Only to find you are not asleep at all, and are just reading late into the night, lost in a book.

- He inwardly curses and tries to leave, but the floorboards outside of the door creak with his movement, and he's mortified, anticipating getting the living crap beaten out of him.

- Is surprised when you smile at him and beckon him over instead, though, asking him what he's doing up so late.

- Slowly comes over to you and sits down next to you hesitantly. He's still anticipating a beating, but figures if he does what you ask he will receive less of one.

- You of course don't, and your soft nature sweeps him in. His tired and secretly touch starved self is very quickly falling asleep curled against you.

- After that, he quickly warms up to you, finding your caring, affectionate nature very much something he's missing and wants.

- When you serve him the cinnamon and butterscotch pie, he goes very weepy about it. He doesn't really like sweet things that much, but he's so soft about the gesture.

- Would probably be one to attach to you hard as a parent-figure as well. Would never allow himself to call you mum or dad though.

-If he does, it's mumbled out while he's very tired and not thinking while snuggled against you.

- One of his eggs hears this and later addresses it, and he's absolutely horrified.

Alastor

- He's another person who's particularly fond of you for the get-go.

- He has a surprising soft spot for people who act parent-like - especially when it's more on the motherly kind of side of things.

- So, from day one, he's treating you much more genuinely nicely than he usually would other people.

- He would never in a million years act like the others do with you. However, he certainly does not shy away from you doting upon him.

- He'd accept tea and pastries (even though they aren’t exactly to his usual tastes), as well as the affection and praise you give out liberally graciously with a smile and warmness that is not as forced as it is with others.

- But he would certainly never allow himself to become attached enough to you to see you like a parent to him. He's got one parent, and you could never replace her.

- When you come out with the butterscotch cinnamon pie, looking all homely and soft with it in your hands, he feels himself smile widely and let's out a laugh that's so lacking of the usual mocking/underlying bad intent that it would surprise the listener.

- Happy to tell you about his day each time he comes home over tea.

- Of course he doesn't discuss anything under surface level things, though he certainly likes the smalltalk you bring to the table.

- You may be able to crack his outward persona a little bit and get him to very vaguely touch upon what's going on with him under the surface, but even then, it's never truly honest or obvious as to what his true thoughts are.

- When he has the breakdown in the final episode, he particularly avoids you afterwards as he just knows he'd risk letting his walls down too much around you.

Niffty

- Another one who absolutely loves you from day one.

- You let her put on puppet shows with the dead insects she kills and compliment her messed up collections and art, though you do push her towards less sadistic/unhinged forms of entertainment.

- She doesn't stop what she does, of course, but she will take up some of what you recommend. Usually in a very twisted way though.

- ie. 'paintings of butterflies', but it's actual butterflies mixed with other insects like a messed up form of taxidermy all glued down onto a page.

- Likes having you around to do the mopping and vacuuming around the hotel with her.

- She of course helps with the work, but she particularly enjoys sliding full speed across the floor while it's wet towards you and watching you panic as you scramble to catch her.

- Also likes to sit on the vacuum cleaner when you use it talking about anything and everything.

- You usually both end up absolutely covered in soapy water by the end of cleaning.

- She also likes the meals and desserts you make for her very much.

- When you bring out the pie, she's sitting down and kicking her legs excitedly as she looks at it as you bring her a slice.

- After shes done, she's going over to you and is sitting in your lap while kicking her feet even more excitedly and cuddling up against you, basking in your hugs while giggling.

- Absolutely calls you mum or mama. Regardless of your gender, you'd be getting called mum by her.

Rosie

- Pleasantly surprised to meet a sinner like you.

- You two get on like a house on fire the second you meet.

- She's of course cordial, but it's much less forced around you, and she feels a lot more easy going around someone like you.

- She's absolutely beaming in every meeting you have and absolutely adores being around you at all points.

- She finds how you instantly try to take care of everyone around you - including her - absolutely endearing and extremely cute.

- Loves having tea with you and Alastor.

- It's not often she can find someone who is unafraid enough to have tea with not only her but also Al, so she's absolutely elated. Most people are scared for obvious reasons to dine with cannibals.

- Normally, she would turn down the kind of food you make, but she just cannot bring herself to.

- You're too sweet to say no to in her books.

- She's somewhat hesitant to try it like with most of what you bring when you bring out the pie, but is delighted when she does.

- Truly loves it, and your gestures are just so absolutely lovely to her.

- Doesn't attach to you as a parental figure at all, but certainly does love having you as a friend.

- She absolutely tries to dote on you in the same way you do with her.

- A bit hesitant to start cooking more normal dishes though, so she ends up asking you to cook with her.

- She's surprised at how fun it is to cook with you.

- Rosie and you end up starting to bake or prepare desserts for your teatime sessions with Al. It quickly becomes an activity she absolutely cherishes.

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dreamsinmoonlight · 6 months ago

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I have a yandere alastor idea for you... Could you do it? Imagine the reader being one of the unfortunate people who was killed by the alastor when he was human... Human! Alastor never felt these strong feelings for anyone, until the reader appeared in his life, the reader was a kind and caring person with everyone, always treating everyone the same... Now I imagine when Alastor discovered that these feelings were love for the reader, but the reader rejected him because he already loved other people... Maybe Alastor, in his desperate and psychotic environment, unintentionally killed the reader...

(now currently) the reader became an angel and was chosen to help Charlie at the hotel (of course the reader doesn't know that Alastor is at the hotel and this happens after the battle)...

Now what would happen?

(Fudge knuckles, this, um, it set off something in my head because I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Admittedly couldn't imagine turning down Alastor but I can try to imagine it for this XD

Um I would have started this earlier but I was watching stuff with my friends yesterday when I got this. Point is I'm creating it now despite wanting to space out my creations, oops~

So i wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to be male or not (since you said "because he already loved other people") so I'm going gender neutral again on this. Sorry if you wanted male specifically >w<

Alastor uses "doe" as a petname for you which yes is female but I like the idea of it so I apologize for that.

Totes writing this after looking deep into my Alastor plushies eyes and while watching A Haunting in Venice. Don't ask why.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: yandere!Alastor, angel!reader

Pairing: Guess

Genre: What genre does yandere being yandere fit in? Hurt? Ain't no comfort here

Summary: Sir Pentious should have told you, oh god, why did he not warn you.)

Oh Doe

Emily assured you this would be a lovely thing; she spoke with excitement and sweetness and love of her dear friend Charlie, of that wonderful princess of hell. And the newcomer Sir Pentious, well he had plenty himself of his time there, of his growing friendships and those strange fascinating souls for whom he'd given his life. For whom he was sent up to heaven, redeemed at last. It was hard for you not to be excited, your wings all a flutter as the portal opened to allow you entrance to Down Below, to Hell. To the Hazbin Hotel.

You found the place extremely warm and it took you a moment to remember that of course it was such. It was Hell after all. You smiled as you did so and approached the hotel, amazed by it's grandness. You'd heard about the great battle between the exterminators and the hotel residents; the loss of Adam had been both a great blow and an admitted relief in some. He had been many things to many people, you mainly saw him from a distance like most angels, but the idea that an angel as powerful as him could be felled sent emotions through Heaven that were less than pleasant. You of course never feared though, a kind soul through and through, one able and willing to see the good and warmth in all. Even, you'd be the first to admit, that of perhaps those who certainly didn't deserve it.

Your eyes found the design fascinating. There was something familiar in it, in the silhouette of it, of the flash of it, the strange apple shaped tower. And the one opposite to it, strange and ominous, and in it something felt as it was watching you with far too much interest. You felt, for the first time in decades, shivers down your spine and could half remember a voice.

"Oh doe, my doe, you have done something terrible. You've broken something deep inside me and you won't even be good enough to fix it." You had not thought about it in a very long time, those words, the last thing you heard from a voice as smooth as velvet, sweet as honey, and poisonous as a viper. It dug deep, it was embedded in your soul, for better or worse, along with all the regrets and sadnesses of a life left unfinished.

"Oh you must be the angel Emily told me about!" You were ripped from your memories by a voice and your wings expanded in surprise as you looked towards the door to see what you had to guess was Charlie Magne herself.

She was bright and cheery, the strangest sight of sunlight in the depths of Hell, but her eyes sparkled and she ran over to you, taking your hands in hers and shaking them excitedly, "Oh, Emily said an angel would come down to help but really after everything that happened, you know with the trial and the fight and all of that, well, who really thought that Heaven would really send down an angel? And to help us no doubt! I'm so excited, seriously, really, just-"

"Charlie," said the voice of Vaggie; she was another angel, Emily had mentioned her, and she looked at Charlie with a soft look before turning her eye to you. It was so....it was hard to describe, not entirely hostile, not certainly friendly; you knew very little of her, of her fall, of what happened, but you suspected that she had less than friendly memories of angels. Still you smiled warmly back at her, not blaming her her feelings, how could you when you didn't truly know her; you certainly hoped to change that with your time here.

She was not the only one looking at you with at least a little suspicion. In the aftermath of battle and rebuilding, there would of course be such for an angel walking up to the hotel. The tall one, the spider sinner Angel Dust, tilted his head at you with eyes hidden by sunglasses, hands on his hips. Beside him was Husk; Sir Pentious had called him the bartender, he had not mentioned how fluffy and soft he looked, with his own wings ruffling behind him with a look even more suspicious than Vaggie's own. To both still you smiled and waved, hoping to make friends, to prove yourself.

There were more; you knew there were because you'd been told. But try as you might, while you remembered Sir Pentious mentioning how Lucifer often was around, not there currently of course, and there was supposed to be a little one-eyed maid named Nifty, Sir Pentious' love Cherry Bomb, you couldn't quite remember who else he mentioned. You knew there was one more, one more resident, one more sinner. Who....who....

"Come on, let me show you around," Charlie said and there again was that bright smile. You liked her, she was a warm kind soul; she reminded you of what everyone always accused you of being. Yet deep down you couldn't help but feel you weren't though, that Charlie was kinder, that Charlie was sweeter.

Because Charlie wouldn't have broken someone's heart like you had.

She dragged you along, such strength for such a small girl, and you were delighted by the beauty of the inside of the hotel as well. Down your back you still felt the chills, still felt the sensation of being watched, but you told yourself it was nothing and enjoyed the tour.

"Husk is the bartender of course, Angel is our resident....well, resident; our housekeeper Nifty is running around somewhere," Charlie said cheerfully, showing you all around, "And my dad is currently at home but he'll be back soon; oh he'll be so surprised to see you, we haven't had an angel here since...oh...well..." she trailed off and looked embarrassed.

You laughed sweetly and smiled at her. "No worries at all princess, I understand. The situation was terrible and on behalf of Heaven, I am so sorry for what happened; you never should have been put in such a position to have to fight to protect yourself like that. But you all survived and Sir Pentious spoke so lovingly of you all, I am delighted to have the chance to meet you and assist you with redeeming souls so they may come to Heaven too."

Charlie looked at you and you recognized it, though it felt strange coming from someone as sunshine as her. It was a look you were well used to, one you had gotten a lot in life, when you helped someone who was down on their luck by giving them everything in your pockets, when you showed kindness and love to any and all around you; people didn't always understand, they didn't often want to. Charlie, you suspected, did on both regards but having grown up in Hell, though she too saw the good in all around her, there still must be a part of her that felt uncertain when faced with a true kindred spirit. You noticed from the corner of your eye Vaggie's expression change, of course she would see it too, to something a little softer but still with plenty of apprehension. You were not fake though in your goodness; you had become an angel for good reason, Sera and Emily had always told you so.

Something felt like it was chuckling and you could have sworn you heard it again. "Oh doe, my doe, how is it you can brighten up a whole room with that bleeding heart of yours?"

"Ooooooh!" Charlie said and proceeded to capture you in a massive bearhug; the strength of a hellborn, especially Lucifer's daughter, was quite impressive and you blinked a few times before chuckling.

She continued. "I like you a lot, you seem like just what we need!"

"Oh great another softie just like our princess," said Angel Dust, walking up behind you both.

Charlie let go of you with a pout. "Angel, what's that supposed to mean?"

"That means you're too soft for your own good and so are they," Husk said, "Which, by the way, what even is your name anyway, angel?"

"You know my name," Angel Dust said playfully and nudged Husk, making the sinner grumble.

"Not you, spider, the actual angel."

"Oh me," you said, smiling again before stating your name.

You didn't expect how pale he got. You didn't expect that someone as furry as him could even go pale. Maybe it was just that his eyes widened and you got the sense he recognized your name; you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, why he was looking at you like that but he grabbed Charlie's arm, tight if her wince was any indication.

"Princess, we need to talk, now," he said.

"Husk what's wrong?" Charlie asked and Vaggie frowned as the cat-bird sinner pulled her away from you and down the hall.

You watched as Vaggie and Angel Dust threw you a confused look then Husk one before following after him, leaving you there, alone. The hotel was quiet, they moved far enough for whatever was on his mind for you to not hear; you choose that it was probably something important and you weren't too worried. Of course they didn't trust you entirely yet to talk about important things around you, not after what happened. You kept your smile and your faith and decided to take the chance to look about the hotel for yourself.

There were many floors and many rooms. Most were empty, many were locked; you thought to yourself of how beautiful this place would be when more souls came, to be redeemed and finally go to heaven. Oh it would be wonderful, full of voices and singing and laughter and happiness. You know you were chosen for this role but you certainly couldn't have imagined any better one; to help people was something you very much enjoyed doing and this felt like the best way to do so with your afterlife.

Yet the happy thoughts felt...cold here somehow. Colder still as you kept walking. The sensations continued, of being watched, of something staring. You tried to ignore it, certain it was nothing. That surely the shadows weren't somehow watching you; that was all that there were after all, just the hotel and the shadows.

Your own little tour led to a specific door and you weren't too sure what brought you there. By your estimates it was the door that would lead to a room connected to that strange tower, the ominous one, the one you'd felt had been watching you. You stood before the door for a moment, staring at the doorknob before pulling yourself together, your wings fluttering, your heart racing a little. This was silly, you were being silly; you reached out for the doorknob to open the door.

It opened on it's own, before you could even touch it, and from inside you heard something familiar. Jazz music, a taste of home; it touched your heart and your smile turned soft and nostalgic, reminded so much of those days when you'd been alive. Visions of New Orleans crossed your mind and without thinking you stepped inside, entranced by the music; you started to sing along, knowing this song by heart.

"Oh doe, my doe," said a voice and while the music kept playing, you no longer could hear it, for the blood that couldn't rush that did rush past your ears as the good memories faded away.

He'd always played it, a dedication just to you he always told you. That melodious voice, that bright smile; it was tinged, tainted, but the crackle of radio filter to it reminded you of the days sitting in your living room, listening to him talk, never imagining what he truly was, who he truly was. Your dearest friend, for years and years.

"Alastor." The name tasted like fear on your tongue and you turned to stare, with eyes as wide as a deer's in headlights, at the tall figure who stood there, gently closing the door behind you both.

So much had changed yet not much at all. He still smiled so friendly, so warm, and you once believed so much in it, in what soul could be behind it. Until the day he confessed and you, foolish, foolish you, who loved and loved and loved and didn't know yet how to take being loved, had turned him down. He'd called you his doe, then he'd stabbed you through the heart.

His smile twitched and he tilted his head, red eyes focused on you. He wore a monocle instead of glasses, you thought feebly to yourself how you'd liked the glasses; the slightly tattered coat, the neat little bowtie, the essence of suaveness, the sharp claws clenching so lightly a long thin cane with a microphone on the end, it all suited him in some way. You remembered his hair as brown; it now was reddish, red like the rest of him. Red like your blood must have been on his clothes.

"My doe," he said and reached out with one hand, cupping your chin; you were frozen, unable to resist, unable to speak anything but his name in a terrified whisper, "It seems Heaven's sent you back to me."

You didn't want to die. You were sure he would kill you again. But he continued to smile, with those sharp teeth like a sharks he had, and looked you over, examined. "I must say, I'm not surprised you're an angel; you always were one, you just needed the wings."

That hand moved, from your chin to one of your wings and a whimper left you as you felt him stroke your feathers, biting your lip and closing your eyes.

"The question is though, my doe," he said and his tone never changed; it was playful, light, and ever so dangerous, "Do I let you keep them or do I rip them off of you? Can't have you escaping me again, can I?"

"Alastor, please," you whispered, begged, "Please..."

"Though if I did that Charlie might complain," he said and chuckled, "And I wouldn't want that. Promise me then, my doe, promise me you won't try to run away."

"I promise." You just wanted to be safe, you just wanted him not to hurt you. You remembered death, it had hurt so much.

"Good doe," he said and pulled away, patting you on the head, "Now come on, remember to smile; you're never fully dressed without one."

He smiled at you and you smiled back. Not because you wanted to. But because something, deep down, from that day, from all those days you'd spent with him, and all the days you knew to come, that if you didn't, it wouldn't end well.

The door burst in soon after and Vaggie seemed on the attack while Angel grabbed you to pull you behind him, Charlie apologizing over and over, "I didn't know, Husk told us all about what happened, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have let you wander off on your own".

"No worries princess, I was just greeting our new angelic guest," Alastor said with cheer and friendliness.

Husk glared at him, his wings expanded, his eyes narrowed. You tried to reassure Charlie; you couldn't even really reassure yourself. But something in seeing her so worried, Husk so on edge, Vaggie with her spear and Angel standing there as if he could or would do anything, make almost seem like this could still be okay. You could still see the bright side in this, goodness, the light.

Even when facing down the greatest devil you knew.

#yandere!alastor #angel!reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #fanfiction #fanfic #answering writing prompts #this one came out long #violence tw

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