#lil something from the drafts as a treat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

changbunnies · 8 months ago

Text

Coy (18+)

♡ Pairing: Inexperienced!Bang Chan x Experienced Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: fluff and smut with a lil plot :)

♡ Word Count: 7.7k

♡ Summary: What occurs when joking about sex with your roommate leads to a shocking discovery about his lack of experience in the bedroom.

♡ Smut Warnings: not intended to have overt dom/sub dynamics but you can infer vibes if you want lol, chan is rlly insecure but reader is here to help!!, nipple play, handjob, oral (m rec), fingering (f rec), protected piv

♡ Notes: hey yall, i wanted to write something small and fun before my next big fic so here we are :’) honestly i was torn between writing this for chan or bin and ended up choosing chan but lmk if you'd want to see a fic like this for binnie! i went super perfectionist mode and rewrote this several times…. like at least 7 fsdgdsfg but i don't want it in my drafts anymore !! just take it !!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

All you said was a lighthearted joke– something said in jest to make your roommate-turned-best friend’s face flush red and burn all the way to the tips of his ears.

That was always the reaction Chan had when you brought up having had sex, you noticed; cheeks flushed red, eyes darting away from yours to look anywhere else, thumbs nervously twiddling where his hands rested in his lap. You assumed he had plenty of experience, but was more of a “heat of the moment” kind of guy– where you imagined he’d be confident and sure of himself with his partner, but talking about sex outside of the moment turned him into a shy, stuttering mess.

And it’s not that you purposely went out of your way to imagine what Chan was like during sex, but your mind would often wander there on its own. He was attractive, to put it lightly– devoted to fine-tuning his muscles with diligently followed routines and strictly maintained effort. You were witness to his toned body on more than one occasion, as he often wandered around the apartment shirtless while having just woken up or doing his laundry.

It was a treat for the eyes for sure, but you were respectful. You never drooled over him– at least not anywhere but in the privacy of your bedroom. But it wasn’t just his body that you adored; he had the absolute cutest smile you’d ever seen, eyes crinkling into the prettiest crescent moons as dimples showed on his cheeks. You loved his fluffy, natural hair, and the deep brown color of his eyes, and the way warmth radiated off him when he pulled you into a hug.

So maybe you have a crush on him– but you aren’t going to act on it. You live together in a careful balance, in which you are close enough to him to become good friends while also hiding your attraction to him to maintain the peace. God forbid he doesn't return your attraction, or he does and down the line it makes things complicated. The last thing you need is to scramble for a new place to live after things between you don’t work out– you’d never be able to afford it, and you’ll gladly swallow your feelings for home security.

But just because you couldn’t have sex with Chan, didn’t mean you couldn’t talk about it with him.

Chan is shy– that much you knew for certain. And sex, while a natural and fun part of life, is something that some people are embarrassed to be open about despite the normality. That's what you saw Chan as; a shy, easily embarrassed person. You thought it was so cute, and just a teensy bit funny; and with all that in mind, it was fun to tease him– to watch his eyes widen in surprise before he let out an awkward cough and looked away, hoping to hide the red forming on his cheeks.

So today, after bringing up how your last date ended, and seeing how brightly Chan’s face burned when you talked about the way they touched you, you couldn’t help but joke around with him. “Oh, c’mon Channie, don’t be coy. I know you’re drowning in pussy when I’m not here,” you teased him with a smirk. Considering your crush on him, you didn’t like to think about it too hard, but you did believe it– surely he brings people back to the apartment while you’re out on your dates.

“O-Oh, no, I’m not– I don’t–” he started to stutter out, and you giggled, because really, how could you believe anything else? He’s perfect– intelligent, funny, talented, as adorable as he is devastatingly hot; obviously he can get whoever he wants, and you believe he does– because Chan is certainly a fucking catch. But still, he continues to stammer and shake his head, blush spreading down his neck as he refutes your statement.

He isn’t a virgin, you have that much right; but he also isn’t some smooth operator hitting hookups with the classic “my roommate isn’t home 👀” text like you seem to think. He doesn’t even know why you think he’s secretly so cool– he’s only ever shown you the most embarrassing version of himself, much to his own chagrin. He’d like to be the person you think he is, but that’s simply not reality.

And as your giggling comes to a stop, and you really look at Chan and take in his expression, you can tell– he's being serious. "Oh," you blink in surprise, smacked with the realization that all your assumptions about him may have been entirely off base.

You frown, wondering if you've actually been making him uncomfortable this entire time. It was always meant to be in good fun, as you thought his bashful reactions were incredibly cute and endearing; but now you realize the truth. Chan isn’t shy about sex because he’s a private person– he’s shy about sex because he isn't having any.

Suddenly, you feel really embarrassed about all the times you talked about yourself; maybe it's karma for all the times you've subtly teased him. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable or crossed a line or anything, I didn't mean to, really–" You start to apologize, but Chan interjects, quickly shaking his head.

"N-No, no, you're fine! I just, uh–" he nervously stumbles on his words again, not even sure what he’s doing at this point. He doesn't even know why he refuted your joke so strongly– sure, it wasn’t true, but wouldn’t it be better for him if you believed it?

Chan likes you�� like, really likes you; but he can't imagine someone as experienced and confident as you will go for a guy like him. Because while he isn't a virgin, his past experiences have been woefully cringe-inducing to even recall.

He was always so eager and clumsy, with trembling hands and face so red he was sure he looked like a tomato. He was embarrassingly sensitive, every touch feeling so overwhelmingly good that he could hardly contain all the noises threatening to leave his throat. He came so fast that he didn’t even know what to do with himself when it was all said and done, hiding his face beneath his arm while he muttered a string of low apologies.

And subjecting you to all of that? No thanks, falling off the face of the earth would be more preferable. You're the most sex positive person he's ever met, and you won’t make fun of him, he logically knows, but there’s part of him that fears it anyways. On top of that, apparently you had an extremely positive perception of his skills, and now he's ruined it.

While he's unsure what about him led you to believe he's desirable enough to have people biting at the chance to be with him, that impression, for better or worse, will never come back. So should he just be honest? Admit that he's actually really down bad for you but nowhere near confident enough to think he's enough for you?

That sounds like a bad idea. Terrible, even. Chan swallows as he looks at you, doing his best to ignore the way anxiety builds from deep in his gut. You're looking at him so patiently, caringly, that it makes his heart squeeze in his chest. Fuck it– he doesn't have to be completely honest and bear his heart on his sleeve, but he can trust you enough to admit a little bit of what he feels, right? If he can't confide in you then who else can he confide in?

"I just, uhm, I'm not very confident, I guess," he says after a careful breath, nervously scratching at the back of his neck as he darts his eyes away, "like.. in myself, or.. my skills, you know. So I just, uh.. don't have sex." You don't respond right away, simply blinking as you process the information, and regret starts to flood over the anxiety as Chan begins to overthink everything he’s admitted to you.

Really, you’re just shocked; Chan is sexy– like, really sexy. So the revelation that he isn’t confident in himself enough to enjoy sex to its fullest extent is baffling. He has such effortless charisma in other aspects of his life despite his shy nature, and you always assumed it carried over into his sex life; where his bashful looks and timid grins would melt away into someone confident and assured once the moment kicked off.

“I could help you,” you finally offer once the initial surprise wears off, and instantly his brain is short circuiting, not even realizing that his astounded “huh?” left him audibly. You didn't really plan on confessing your attraction to Chan this way, if ever, but well.. here you are.

"It's just– you're like, the hottest person I know. Seriously. And I don't care if you lack experience, I'd have sex with you regardless," you explain, a rare blush of your own beginning to heat your face, "So, yeah, you know– if you want me like I want you, then.." You start to trail off, but you think he gets what you were intending to say.

It's a bit embarrassing to be blushing yourself considering all the casual sex you have, but it's not your fault– Chan is the only person you've caught feelings for in years, so you can't help but blush a little. Chan, meanwhile, is still stunned; you're attracted to him? You want to have sex with him? Really?

On one hand, it's exciting– you want him, he wants you, and you don't care that he's inexperienced. But still, on the other hand.. With all the experience you have, don’t you want to sleep with someone who matches your energy? He can't imagine that you'd enjoy watching him fumble his way through your time together, or that he’d bring you any pleasure with his lackluster skills.

And what would your relationship be afterwards? Just friends and roommates who happened to fuck once, or something more? Will the mutual attraction die off the moment you realize his insecurities are way more than you signed on for?

“You don’t have to answer right now,” you assure him, offering all the time he may need to think about your proposition. Maybe it won’t be the most casual of your experiences considering your massive crush on him, but how could you pass up the chance to help him? Especially when helping means having sex with the guy of your dreams– because really, that’s what Chan is.

He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, swallows the lump in his throat, and takes a breath– because despite all his fears, he really likes you, and of course he wants to fuck you. Chan always figured he’d never have a chance with you unless you experienced a huge lapse in judgment; and maybe this is one and done, maybe it doesn't mean as much for you as it does for him, but he’ll still take that chance, insecurities be damned; he’d be a fool not to.

“I want to,” he tells you, soft and timid, but certain. You smile, equally as soft, as you inch closer to him on the sofa. “Can I kiss you?” you ask him, giggling when he quickly nods. It’s cute– equally as cute as the small, involuntary noise he makes from the back of his throat when your lips touch his. You start slow, pressing long, lingering kisses to his plush lips– as soft as you always imagined.

His breath hitches when you crawl onto his lap, pulling away to look at you with widened eyes. “Too much?” you ask, ready to pull yourself off of him but he quickly shakes his head. “You’re just–” he pauses, licks his lips as his face flushes a deeper pink, but continues “..so pretty. Really pretty. Can't believe this is really happening."

It feels a bit silly being so shy to tell you how pretty you are to him when you’ve been kissing him and are quite literally sitting on top of his dick, but he can’t help the way you make him feel. It’s a simple compliment too, one that normally wouldn’t affect you very much, but makes your heart pick up ever so slightly in speed regardless; you suppose because Chan is the one saying it.

You can tell he doesn’t know what to do with his hands when you kiss him again, keeping them clenched and firmly stuck to his side. You take them in your hands, guiding them to your body and resting them on your hips. “Touch me, Channie,” you breathe against his lips, “anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere..?” he questions with a shaky exhale, hands trembling where they rest on your body. “Mhm, want to feel you,” you tell him sweetly, and God, he already feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest before he’s even really begun. But he listens, hands carefully traveling up and down your body as you lean back in to continue kissing him.

You let your own hands wander as well– over his arms, across his chest, down the toned abs you can distinctly feel even beneath his sweater. You lick his bottom lip, feeling his body shiver beneath the tips of your fingers as he opens his mouth for you, letting your tongue inside.

He brings his hands to your chest, palming your breasts before he carefully squeezes them. You bring one of your hands to hover over his, encouraging him to continue by squeezing your hand atop his. He’s only touching you over your clothes, but he already feels impossibly dizzy from the excitement– he can’t even focus on how pathetic that would normally make him feel either, because your tongue in his mouth fogs his brain.

The next time you pull away, it’s to grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head so swiftly that Chan barely even has time to process what he’s about to see. He sucks in a breath as he looks at your tits; it doesn’t even matter that they’re still contained by a bra– it’s still more than enough to send him reeling. Pretty, pretty, pretty, is all he can think, his mind unable to conjure a thought any more complex than simple words.

You move your hands behind your back, ready to unhook your bra and expose yourself to him entirely, but he briefly stops you. “Can I– Can I try..?” he asks, clearly nervous but eager to try and prove himself in whatever way you’ll let him. “Course, Channie,” you smile at him as you let your arms fall back to your side, “go ahead.” You lean closer to him, bringing your hands to his shoulders as he brings his own to your back.

You press kisses to his jaw as you wait for him to act, eventually trailing down to his neck. It makes him gasp and bite his lip, the skin of his neck evidently more sensitive than he ever even realized. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, trying his best not to get too distracted by the feeling of your lips on the sensitive spots of his neck before he continues.

His fingers fumble with the hooks of your bra, his trembling hands causing his grip to slip more than once. It’s embarrassing how badly he’s failing at this simple task, but you pay no mind to it, continuing to kiss him as he takes his time to figure it out. You caress his arms, pulling away to reassure him when his shaking fingers mess up for the third time.

“Relax, baby, you’ve got it,” you tell him, the affectionate term unintentionally slipping out– but Chan seems to welcome it, offering you a soft smile and nod as he timidly tries again. He lets out the breath he was unconsciously holding when he finally succeeds, watching attentively as you bring your hands to the now loose straps, sliding them down your arms.

You toss your bra aside when your arms are freed from the straps, and Chan can’t help but stare at your now bare chest. He can count on a single hand the amount of tits he’s seen, so his thoughts may be a bit biased in your favor, but he firmly believes yours are the prettiest he’s ever looked at. Chewing on his bottom lip, he looks to you for permission to touch them again, which you easily grant him.

The soft noise you let out when his thumbs brush over your nipples both surprises him and makes his cock throb; he can still hardly even believe you’re really letting him touch you. “Is that good?” he asks as he does it again, intoxicated by the way you whimper and squirm. “Mhm, feels good. Feels better when they’re wet, though,” you tell him, watching as the gears turn in his brain.

He licks his lips and leans down, bringing his face to your chest. He sticks out his tongue, slowly swiping it against one of your hardened nipples, eyes glued to your face as he does. “This what you want?” he asks, repeating the action when you gasp and nod. You thread your fingers through his hair, another whimper leaving you as he wraps his lips around your nipple and swirls his tongue around it.

You reach for his other hand and bring his fingers to your mouth, licking and coating them in your saliva. He whines at the feeling of your tongue sliding against his fingers, his imagination running wild with images of what it’d feel like on different parts of his body. Once satisfied with the wetness of his fingers, you take them from your mouth and bring them back down to the nipple currently not in his mouth. “Use them to touch me, please–”

Chan wastes no time in doing what you ask, a soft whine escaping him when you gently tug on his hair. His cock is painfully hard and straining against his jeans that are now uncomfortably tight around him. You can feel it pressing against your ass, his eyes fluttering shut when his treatment of your nipples cause you to squirm and rub against his erection. The friction is overwhelming, your noises are intoxicating, the combination makes him dizzy with need for more.

More of your touch on his skin, more of your pretty whimpers in his ear, more of anything and everything you’re willing to give him, he wants it all. Soon you’re reaching for the hem of Chan’s sweater, and he separates from you, allowing you to pull it up and over his head, discarding it to the floor with the rest of your clothing. You admire him, trace his pecs and his abs with your fingers, smiling at him sweetly when he shivers beneath your touch.

“You’re so handsome, Channie,” you tell him as you continue to run your fingers along his torso, “so hot, you have no idea how bad I’ve wanted you.” He whines and turns his face away, a vain attempt to hide the heat that rises to it. “That’s– I-I.. didn’t know..” he mumbles shyly, hesitant to meet your gaze again– mostly because he thinks his heart will burst if he looks at you while you’re saying things like that to him.

He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to be able to look at you without going red in the face after this, or how he’s going to be able to hear your voice again without his cock getting hard. Better yet, how is he going to look at you without thinking about how bad he wants you to be his, or for him to be yours? Either way, that’s a problem for the future– because your hands and lips are all over him, and that’s what he wants to focus on now.

Chan sucks in a breath when your hand brushes his erection over his jeans, bites his lip when you start to undo the button, lets out a shaky exhale as you begin to pull down the zipper. He’s not sure what you’ll think of his length, but he hopes you like it, prays that it’s enough to satisfy you. “You should have more confidence in yourself, Channie,” is the first thing you say as you take it in your hand, “you’ve got the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”

“W-What? No way, that’s– you’re just saying that,” he pouts, the blush covering his face and ears becoming unbearably hot. You can’t mean that– he almost refuses to believe it; because he simply can’t comprehend that you would prefer him to anyone else. “I’m not, baby. I mean it,” you tell him, and the way he throbs in your hand gives away that he likes the compliment, even if he doesn’t entirely believe it’s true.

You really are being honest; it’s not the longest you’ve ever had, but it’s among the thickest, with pretty veins that accentuate it. You want to trace them– with your fingers, your lips, your tongue, everything. And then there’s the way his pre-cum leaks from the tip, steadily dripping and pooling where it falls-–all you can say is that it’s mouth-watering. The look in your eyes makes Chan feel impossibly shy, and it takes everything within him not to cover his face when your eyes meet again.

He never imagined that look would be for him; that he would ever be deserving of your touch and affectionate words. And the sweet smile you offer him when you start to earnestly stroke his cock– he’s done for, absolutely done for. He’ll never be able to hide how bad he wants you after this– maybe he should listen to you and gain some confidence, ask you to be his before someone else steals you away.

Chan quickly loses his ability to form coherent thought once you start picking up your pace however, your hand having quickly become slick from his pre-cum. His head falls back against the sofa, breaths growing more and more labored with each stroke of your soft, warm, wet hand. You can feel his thighs twitch beneath you, and the way his hips jolt up to try to seek further friction from your hand, though your weight atop his legs prevents him doing so.

“Want you in my mouth,” you tell him, pleased with the way the words make him gasp and squirm, “You want that, Channie? Will you let me suck you off?” Fuck, do you even have to ask? As if there is any reality in which he would ever say no; you can have him, all of him, he doesn’t care as long as it’s you– he’ll never deny you any part of him. “Yeah, yeah, want that, please,” he breathes, an almost shameless plea for you to do whatever you want with him.

You offer him a pretty smile, placing a quick but affectionate kiss to his lips before you remove yourself from his lap. Sinking to your knees, you pull Chan’s jeans and boxers down his legs and to his ankles, and wait for him to step out of them and spread his legs wide enough for you to fit between them. There’s an apprehensive look in his eye when you scoot closer to him, and you pause, looking up at him with concern. “Are you nervous?” you ask, ready to stop at a moment’s notice if he needs you to.

“Ah, yeah, sorry, I just–” he pauses, an awkward, nervous laugh leaving him as he averts his gaze away from yours, “I just.. ‘m worried I’m gonna cum too fast when you.. Uh, yeah, you know.” He feels a bit pathetic admitting it, and he keeps his eyes locked on a random corner of the room, still holding onto the irrational fear that you’ll judge or laugh at him. Of course, you do neither– you simply lean forward on your knees, reaching a hand up to touch his face and bring his eyes back to yours.

“Don’t worry about that, I won’t mind if you cum fast, okay? It won’t bother me, and I won’t be mad. Just enjoy yourself,” you tell him earnestly, smiling sweetly at him when he slowly nods. You want to show him that you’re more than happy to take care of him until he gets the confidence in himself he needs, that there’s no shame in feeling so good that he can’t help but let go, that you’ll want him regardless.

You settle back on your knees, rubbing your hands up and down his thighs until you feel like his nerves have settled. He nods to you when he’s ready, and you give him one last smile before you bring your face directly to his waiting cock. The kisses you place to the tip are already enough to have him gasping and squirming in his seat– soft, delicate, and wet. Your fingers hold him at the base, keeping it held in place even as it twitches in response to every kiss you leave behind.

You stick out your tongue, let spit dribble down and further wet his leaking tip, and it’s positively the most erotic thing Chan has ever witnessed; he has to cover his face to stop himself from losing his mind. Head fallen back against the sofa with his arm thrown over his face, he gasps once more when he feels your tongue press against his skin. You lick slowly– whether to savor the taste or prolong the moment, Chan is unsure, but he welcomes it either way.

He can’t suppress the throaty groan that leaves him when you drag your tongue across the entirety of his length, tracing the veins with it just as you wished to. “O-Oh my god, baby–” he gasps when you finally start to take his cock into your mouth, too far gone to realize that he too let the pet name slip out. You don’t seem to mind, at least; after all, despite this “casual” encounter, you’ve already done the same, and been more affectionate than he ever anticipated.

Chan wants to believe you’re affectionate just with him; that none of your other casual partners have ever been looked at the way you’ve looked at him, that you never called them sweet names or given them such caring glances. Maybe he’s feeding himself a delusion, but he wants to believe you want him as bad as he wants you– beyond just the physical. He wants to believe this isn’t just a one time thing, and most of all he wants to believe that you’ll fall in love with him.

Is it normal to think about love when your cock is deep down your crush's throat? He doesn’t know– but all he can think about, apart from how amazing your mouth feels, is how much he loves and adores you. Letting his arm fall back to his side, he lifts his head from the sofa to look at you once more, and fuck, what a site you are. Eyes glassy and pretty as you gaze up at him through your lashes, cheeks flushed red, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.

The sounds you make as you bob your head are so salacious it makes his head spin, his thighs tremble with each motion of your tongue on the underside of his length, and every time his tip touches the back of your throat he can’t help but let out a moan. His fingers struggle to find purchase on the sofa’s cushion, so instead he clenches his fist, knuckles quickly turning white. You notice, of course, so you bring one of your hands to his, intertwining your fingers and letting him squeeze your hand instead.

God, that fucks with his heart– but he hardly has any time to dwell on it. He’s barely been holding back his orgasm, and he’s not sure how much longer he can last. “Babe, baby, feels so good, I can’t– o-oh, please, ‘m gonna cum–” he babbles his warning, whimpering when you hum in response and continue to take him as deep into your mouth as he can go. His eyes roll back, cock throbbing and entire body trembling– and one more swipe of your tongue and swallow around his length is all it takes to have him cumming.

“O-Oh my– fuck, fuck, sorry, ‘m cumming, baby–” he rambles, thankfully too far gone to be embarrassed by all the things he’s saying to you. You swallow all he has to give you, not pulling off him until he starts to come down from his high and cock begins to soften. He’s dazed and breathless as he looks at you, chest heaving as his brain tries to recalibrate itself after how good you just made him feel.

You rise from your knees and set yourself back on the sofa, leaning towards Chan to kiss him after he’s caught his breath. He can taste himself on your lips, but he doesn’t hate it; there’s a strange part of him that even enjoys it. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles with a nervous pout when you pull away, “I tried to hold it back, but..”

“Channie, I told you not to worry about that. It felt good, right? That’s all that matters,” you tell him, directing him to look at you when he tries to avert his gaze again. He swallows the anxiety down, trying to look at you without feeling like disappearing into a void. But he can tell after just a moment how sincere you’re being, and it spreads relief through his veins. It’s not that he really doubted you, but his internal dialogue is far from rational.

You’ve been so good to him since the start, and though he’s incredibly shy and equally as nervous, there’s nothing more he wants now than to return the favor. He still doubts he’s good enough to give you what you deserve, to skillfully make you cum and cry out for him, but he’ll try– God, he’ll fucking try.

It takes all the confidence he can muster to speak what he wants to say, but he thankfully manages alright. “I want, uh– ..w-want to make you cum too,” he admits, doing his best to hold your gaze despite the way shyness claws at him and his blush burns his face. “Yeah?” you smile, honestly pretty eager to let Chan touch you more.

While you were more than ready to keep taking the lead, to guide him along and take care of him, you’re happy to see a surge of confidence in him– even if it’s a small one. “Touch me then, Channie. Make me cum,” you tell him as you beckon him closer, letting out a soft, content hum when he kisses you. You let him guide you back until your back is flat against the sofa, spreading your legs so that he can nestle between them.

You can feel his hands trembling again as they travel your body, but Chan doesn’t let the nerves prevent him from hooking his fingers into your pants. He continues to kiss you as he slides them down your legs, along with your panties– not just because he loves kissing you, but also because he’s not quite ready to look at your bare pussy; he genuinely thinks his heart will give out if he doesn’t mentally prepare himself first.

Pretty soon though, he does have to separate from you so he can let you slip your feet out of your clothes, and subsequently toss them to the floor with all the rest of your discarded clothing. He tries to keep his eyes locked on your face, but he can’t help but let his eyes trail down and roam over the rest of your exposed body. He’s mesmerized in an instant; you’re so impossibly pretty, every inch of you breathtaking and beautiful and– God, just perfect.

He knows his words will fail him, so he hopes his lips on yours will do enough of the talking for him, hopes that he can show how bad he adores and desires you with actions alone. You intended initially to let him take his time, but you’ve been impossibly wet and worked up this entire time; and besides, doesn’t he need a little push?

So you take one of his hands, guiding it to your dripping center. Chan lets out an involuntary whine from the back of his throat, body shivering in response. “Y-You’re so– oh my god, how are you so wet?” he asks, as in awe of you as he is surprised. “You, baby,” you answer, voice growing shakier now that he’s rubbing his fingers between your folds, “I told you, you– you’re so handsome, you know? Get me so hot, ‘ve wanted you so bad.”

God, he still can’t believe it– how is it possible that you’ve wanted him as bad as he’s wanted you? And there’s no way his insecurities can make him believe you’re just saying it to make him feel good about himself anymore, because he can feel the proof of your words with his fingers. “Tell me– tell me what you like, what you want, please,” he softly pleads, “need to make you feel good.”

“Inside, want your pretty fingers inside me,” you tell him, shivering when you feel the tips of his fingers pressing against your hole. He starts slow and careful, gently pushing one of his fingers inside, alternating between watching his hand and looking up to your face. You’re so slick and warm, and the way you squeeze around even just one of his fingers makes his head spin– because he can’t help but imagine how you’d feel on his cock.

“Another, add another, please,” you all but beg once you’re adjusted to how one feels, and he wastes no time in obliging you, delighting in the way it makes your eyes flutter closed. You bite your lip when he starts to instinctively move his fingers faster, little whimpers escaping as your breaths become heavier. “You sound so pretty,” he says, gasping when he realizes it caused you to clench harder around his fingers.

Do you like when he talks to you? He doesn’t know if it’s his voice you like, or what he said in particular, but if you like it then he won’t stop. “F-Feels so amazing, I can’t– can’t stop thinking about what you’d feel like around me, want it so bad, want to be inside you,” he starts to ramble, doing his best to voice everything that comes to his mind, anything he thinks you’ll like and will have you clenching again, even if it embarrasses him to say it.

He experiments with his fingers as he talks to you– changing angles and curling his fingers, trying to find what you like the best. You gasp when he finds your spot with the tips of his fingers, body trembling and back arching. “R-Right there, fuck, feels so good, Channie, your fingers feel so good,” you tell him breathlessly, and he can’t help the way he stiffens and throbs once more in response.

And really, how is he supposed to look at the way you shake beneath him, hear your pretty voice praise the way he’s touching you, and not get hard again? He wants nothing more than to make you cum– to make you cry and writhe in pleasure for him, because of him; almost desperate for it, he hits your spot over and over again, hoping to bring you closer and closer to the release you both crave.

He’s mesmerized by the way your eyes roll back, by the rise and fall of your chest and tremble of your thighs; addicted to the way your moans and whimpers grow higher in pitch, and the messy, wet sounds his fingers create between your legs. Chan glances down to your pussy, taking notice of your puffy, neglected clit.

He wants to taste it, to wrap his lips around and let his tongue lavish it, but he doesn’t trust himself to be able to get down smoothly or without messing up his rhythm; so instead, he brings his thumb to it– something he’s seen done in porn that woman always seemed to like (and he desperately hopes you like it too.) Thankfully, he gets the effect he was hoping for– you let out a whimper and squirm, nails digging into his skin.

Chan doesn’t let up even when his wrist begins to grow sore, running purely on desire and instinct. “F-Fuck, Channie, baby, ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp out, voice whiny and strained, but still oh so pretty in his ears. He can’t believe he’s actually going to make you cum, can’t believe how lucky he is; and he's utterly transfixed on the way your body moves, drunk on the sounds that freely spill from you.

He gasps when you reach out and unexpectedly pull him closer, letting out a soft, surprised whine when you eagerly crash your lips into his. It’s the messiest kiss he’s ever had, tongues dancing and drool falling from the corners of your mouth, hot and heavy breaths passed between each other. Your thighs squeeze his hand as your orgasm takes you, entire body shaking as your back arches off the sofa, arousal gushing and further coating his fingers.

Chan slowly slides his fingers out of you as you catch your breath, meeting your gaze shyly when you open your eyes to look at him once more. He’s so fucking hard, again, and you instantly notice, much to his embarrassment. He wants to fuck you, there’s no denying it– but he can’t help but continue to feel self-conscious, even now.

You sit up and kiss him once more, as if to dispel all doubts and worries from his racing mind. “Want you, Channie,” you tell him, voice soft, sweet, and reassuring, “do you still want me? Wanna fuck me?” He whines from deep in his throat, knowing he’d never be able to deny it, even if he wanted to.

“Yes, God, yes, wanna fuck you,” he answers honestly, nervously chewing on his bottom lip, “b-but I– I just.. don’t want to disappoint you.” He’ll never forgive himself if he fucks this up and leaves you wanting and unsatisfied; he wants to be nothing less than perfect for you and he already knows that he isn’t.

“Channie, baby, look at me,” you say as you reach a hand to his cheek, urging him to meet your eyes again, “you won’t disappoint me, you could never.” You place soft, comforting pecks to his lips, holding his hands and rubbing soothing circles with your thumbs until you feel him start to lose his tension. “Remember what I said? Don’t worry about anything but feeling good. I want you to cum again,” you tell him, smiling as he nods, his face flushing a deeper red.

Leaning towards the coffee table, you reach for where you dropped your purse before sitting down with Chan, digging around inside until you find one of the spare condoms you make sure to keep for your dates. He swallows as he watches you pull it out, beyond nervous but equally as excited to finally feel you wrapped around him.

Even just watching you tear open the packaging is enough to have him trembling, and when you glance at him to make sure he’s ready, he ignores his insecurities the best he can to offer you a timid smile. You return the smile, taking his cock in your hand and giving it a few slow pumps to make sure he’s ready. He squirms and softly whines, still sensitive from his previous orgasm, but there’s no way he’s going to let that stop him from having this moment with you.

He shivers when you easily roll the condom down his length, biting his lip as you crawl back onto his lap after you’ve finished. His heart is beating fast and erratic, and he wonders if you can hear how loudly it’s thumping against his chest. He lies half propped up by one of the sofa’s cushions, looking up at you with eyes akin to a puppy, watching your every move with bated breath.

You reach between your bodies to hold his cock at the base, angling it with your still soaked entrance. You let go once you start to sink down on it, moving your hand to his chest to support yourself as his cock pushes inside. “Oh, fuck–” Chan lets out a choked gasp, already overwhelmed by the sensation even before you’re fully sat on his length.

Even with a condom on, he can still feel how warm and wet you are, your walls squeezing him so tight it takes his breath away. “Fuck, baby, oh my god, it already feels so good, what the fuck–” he gasps again once your hips are flush together. He doesn’t remember it feeling this amazing the last time he had sex; is it because he’s more sensitive from before? Or is it because it’s you?

No matter the answer, he’s certain of one thing– and that’s that he’s definitely going to cum fast; he just hopes you meant it when you said it’s okay. He lets out an obscenely loud moan when you start to lift and drop your hips– one that would normally make him extremely embarrassed, but he feels way too good to even focus on it; all he can think about is how fucking good you feel.

His hands squeeze your hips, and he looks at you with stars in his eyes. How can you be so pretty, so beautiful? How can you feel this good? The way he’s looking at you makes your heart stutter and pussy clench, an act that makes Chan’s head fall back against the cushion as he moans. He’s so handsome, with the way his curly hair clings to his forehead with sweat, his bitten lips and flushed cheeks– it's insane that he can't see how crazy for him you are.

You lean forward to kiss him, bringing one of your hands up to thread your fingers through his hair as your tongue slips past his parted lips. He feels dizzy with pleasure, each of his loud moans and whines muffled only by your lips on his. You’re both panting by the time you separate, with you falling forward and burying your face into his neck.

Your legs and knees quickly begin to scream at you, but you ignore it as best you can in favor of chasing pleasure, bouncing on his cock with all the energy you can muster. You know he won’t last much longer– he was already sensitive to start, and you can feel him twitching and throbbing more and more with each additional motion of your hips.

“Baby, ‘m so close–” Chan whimpers, eyes rolling back when you clench around him harder. “Yeah? Gonna cum again for me, Channie? Gonna cum with me?” you ask as you snake your hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit in quick circles so that you can cum together. He quickly nods and bites his lip, hands squeezing you tighter and hips rising to chase you every time you lift off him.

It only takes a couple more rolls of your hips to have him cumming again, white, hot pleasure coursing through his veins and overwhelming every inch of his body, filling the condom with all he has to give. You follow quickly behind, hips stuttering and losing all sense of rhythm as you ride out your release.

You collapse against his chest with a heavy sigh once you’re done, utterly exhausted from all the effort, but completely satisfied. You’re both breathless, eyes closed as you collect yourselves and racing hearts start to return to normal speed. Well, in Chan’s case it doesn’t completely return to normal; because you’re still naked on top of him, and even after having just had sex, he still can’t believe you’re here with him right now like this.

You lift your hips and let his softening cock slide out of you, laying on Chan’s side with his arm as support so you don’t fall off the sofa. You carefully remove the condom, tying it off and preparing it to be thrown away once you’re ready to get up– for now, you’re too tired to move, and you just want to stay next to Chan for as long as you can.

You lay your leg across his body, cuddling close to him while he continues to support your weight with his arm. “How was it? Fun?” you ask him, smiling when he blushes and looks away, still unable to help being shy even after all you just did together. “Of course, you’re.. incredible,” he answers honestly, chewing on his lip before he continues, “But, were you– ..was I good enough for you..?”

“Channie, are you kidding? You were perfect, I promise,” you assure him, giggling softly when he breathes a sigh of relief. “You get stuck in your head too much, baby,” you continue, absentmindedly tracing circles in his skin as you speak, “I promise you, you could have anyone you want. I mean it when I say you’re perfect.” He still doesn’t quite believe what you’re saying is true, but he can at least accept that you believe it.

But he wonders if you know– it’s not just anyone he wants, but you. He was only able to do this because it was you that offered-–anyone else, and he would’ve instantly turned them down, or wouldn't have been able to enjoy himself if he did accept. Looking at you now reaffirms what he’s long since thought– you’re the only one for him.

“Baby, I want you to be mine-–want you to be my girlfriend,” is what he wants to say– but Chan is much too shy, and can’t bring himself to do it. “C-Can we– can we do this again sometime..?” is what he ends up saying insead. And you smile as you nod, sweetly running your fingers through his messy curls before you give him another kiss, “Course, baby. Anytime you want me, I’m yours.”

network tags: @skzstarnet @ksmutsociety

#“something small” i say as i write 5k more words than intended of pure smut #ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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shuaboo · 3 months ago

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🍓boyfie ZB1 ft. bfs lil bro!yujin

🧺 lowercase intended // cw: other than a very small bit of swearing, none. // sry no wc im too lazy😭

🍰 a/n: sorry if this is quite messy, i usually open this draft at 3 am so my brains all fucked up n shit. yujin is included but he is not your bf bc i won’t write romantic stuff abt a minor due to my age ty.

bf!jiwoong who will always take photos of you and take selfies with you on his iphone with a blurry ass front cam :((. whether you’re on a date, just at home, running errands, on a walk— hes going to snap a pic. when you’re sitting beside each other sometimes he just lays his head on your shoulder or kisses your cheek and takes a selfie. just.. bf!jiwoong who is the complete embodiment of “take a pic, it’ll last longer.”

bf!zhang hao who is your other half of the olive theory. if ever there is an ingredient or food that you don’t like on your plate, all you need to do is ask hao because he’s probably going to accept. OR bf!hao who orders your usual order when you try something new, just incase you end up not liking the taste of your own order. for example: you want to try a new kind of coffee. hao always asks you if you’re sure before you try something new. when you confirm, he orders the usual style of coffee that you order. if you end up liking it… hao is happy that you like it and he doesn’t mind drinking your usual. but if it’s the opposite, he offers you his order— your usual, and takes the new drink off your hands and drinks that instead. AURGSHD i hope you guys get what i mean!!

bf!hanbin who has boyfie senses. he just knows everything about you, that’s how observant he is. he makes sure to observe a lot of the things you do, like, dislike, etc. he knows what type of hair tie you like, what glasses frame you prefer, how you fidget when you’re feeling anxious or nervous, everything. sometimes when you’re not feeling well and haven’t told hanbin yet, you’ll get a message from him asking how you are or if you’re feeling okay. it stuns you every single time he does it. it’s like he has connections to the system of your brain.

bf!matthew who is always down to try everything with you. i feel like matthew is very adventurous. if you want to try camping, he’ll do it with you and explain everything you need. if you want to try some new food, he’ll help you look for the place to try it. he’s always the one who takes and does your firsts with you. he supports your curiosity (most of the time) because he believes that it’s always good to try something new. basically just bf!matt who is your partner in everything.

bf!taerae who loves to sing for you, and would probably sing for you everyday if you’d just ask. taerae has such a beautiful singing voice, his voice is like pouring rays of sunshine, clouds, and rainbows into your ears. if you are having a hard time sleeping, all you need to do is lay against his chest and ask him to sing for you. the combination of his voice and his heartbeat is the perfect lullaby for you. when you’re on a road trip, a carpool session is essential! pro tip: do not challenge taerae with a karaoke battle, you WILL lose :P.

bf!ricky who WILL pay for everything. he does not let you take out your wallet, it’s always his treat. whether you’re on a restaurant date, shopping date, anything! he. will. pay! the only time ricky lets it slide is when you do errands together, but even then he still offers to pay. always expect “just because” gifts from ricky as well. because i do believe that he has a good eye, meaning that he knows what you like. so if he sees a piece that he thinks you’d look good in, he will 100% get it for you.

bf!gyuvin who loves couple trends!!!! i believe yes yes! matching outfits, tiktok dances, matching pfps, couple poses, everything!!! imagine going to the amusement park with gyuvin. you’ll have matching outfits on, you’ll do tiktok dances (ex: dsico by surf curse), take pics at the photobooth if they have it, take couple pics. every single person around you gets a slap in the face abt how single they are when they see you two. (i have another post abt gyuvin, also hcs/thoughts: thoughts abt bf!gyuvin)

bf!gunwook who props you up on the bathroom counter and stands in between your legs to do your skincare… when you’re feeling tired but you need to do your skincare, he’ll literally just do it for you. gunwook is strong enough to pick you up, put you on the counter, and then start doing your skincare. he doesn’t even need to ask you what goes first, next, and last. he has your skincare routine memorized!!!! all you need to do is just sit there and try to not fall asleep on the spot as he does his thing. you can trust that he knows your usual routine, your routine when you breakout, etc. skincare is something you and gunwook bond over as a couple. he loves taking care of you as much as he loves doing it for himself.

bf’s little bro!yujin who 100% loves u more than his brother 😎. when his brother takes you home he probably doesn’t approach you first, so you had to reach out. when he does get to know you, he thinks you’re pretty cool. he asks your boyfriend often if he’s taking you with him when they go out, since sometimes you do join in for some of their family outings. expect to be the in the middle of their bickering sometimes, siblings will be siblings. i think you’ll get to a point where yujin trusts you enough to sometimes talk to you about things he feels he can’t really discuss with his brother. he trusts that you won’t tattle on him, please don’t break it.

sorry for edging heres the yap sesh 🙏🏻

#zerobaseone x reader #zb1 x reader #hanbin x reader #jiwoong x reader #zhang hao x reader #seok matthew x reader #taerae x reader #ricky x reader #gyuvin x reader #gunwook x reader #han yujin x reader

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ivysangel · 11 months ago

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Okay but a threesome with Dick and Jason. what would that be like? Are they competing to see who makes you come harder? Does each try to out do the other because he’s secretly jealous? Are they gonna Eiffel Tower? Is one really sweet while the other is being aggressive and rough? I need opinions.

-🧸

honey i am so so so so so sorry. this has been sitting in my drafts for so long and i hope you're still around to see it! i already wrote a lil smth smth about this a while ago here but allow me to elaborate.

i think the dynamic can get pretty crazy because dick can get wayyy nasty; not to say jason doesn't either, but i don't think jason would get crazy nasty in front of dick. dick's there to overstimulate you, tease you, play around with you, and bring you to the edge and back and then over, and jason's there to comfort you through it. i think they both could be "he talks you through it," guys, but in this specific scenario, i think it would be jason who sweet talks you, whispers in your ear, tells you you're doing so good for them, and quiets you down when you get too loud. i don't really know how to explain it, but he'd be the comforting presence out of the two of them, not even taking a submissive role or anything, just not as actively winding you up as much as dick.

dick, a menace as always, treats it like a game. how many times can he make you cum before you're begging for a break, and how many different ways can he make it happen. i think he'd be like that on a normal day, too, but i feel like it's very amplified in this situation because however this threesome happens, it's a very tense and intimate affair, out of character for both of them and, therefore everything about it is just different (?) i can't even think of a good way to explain it other than the next morning you're all kinda like woah. lost all inhibition the night before and don't really know how to go back to the way things were. he's quick to get nasty; he's the one eating you out while jason is kissing your neck and lightly grazing your skin, touching and squeezing, etc. the combination of both of them is really just insane, and both of their actions, in tandem, are what makes it so much more intense.

i do think they could be eiffel tower guys, but idk, i think (and walk with me here)…double penetration might be the way they go. like, you can't say, "dick grayson is an ass man," without admitting that he'd probably be into anal, so boom. and if your pussy is open, then yeah, ofc jasons taking it; it just makes sense TO ME. it's definitely a lot and not for the faint of heart, and you have to hold onto one (or both) of them while you get used to the sensation and while they find a nice rhythm, so it feels good for all three of you. during this part, the talking might die down just because you're all so in the moment; it's definitely out of character for dick because he's a D1 yapper, but it's cool cuz he was dirty talking so much during the foreplay, like lifting his head from between your legs just to look you in the eye and say something nasty.

i'm also ngl i could see the roles reversed where jason is eating you out or fingering you, and dick is the one whispering crazy shit in your ear. i could see it working both ways, but the first more so.

when i tell you this would be probably the best orgasm you've ever had, i mean that. there's just so much that went into it that there's really no way you aren't gasping for air and clutching your chest when it's over. damn near passing out, and they gotta shake you a little to make sure you're still kicking. and it's not even really over because if you show any semblance of energy after, they might try to go another round i fear.

#★ 🧸 ��#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hoot smut #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing smut #jason todd lover #dick grayson lover

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gor3-hound · 9 months ago

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TALK TOO MUCH - WELT YANG

ft. welt yang x fem!reader

a/n: was really struggling with this and hate it - want to preface it by saying this is unfinished. it's just a first draft, but people (person) still wanted me to post it, even if i'm not gonna end up fully finishing it :/ the ending is rushed, but it technically does have an end. hope you like it regardless. title from coin song of the same name

cw: 18+ content, welt rambling, hand holding, kissing, just really fluffy smut tbh, welt is a lil subby and shy, age gap, p in v, creampie

word count: 1.4k words

You certainly were a curious thing. Welt had gotten used to those on the Astral Express treating him as their personal encyclopedia, although he hadn't quite expected you to be so adamant to get him to info dump on every little thing once you'd discovered it - not that he didn't like it. He did pride himself on his intelligence, and there were much worse ways to spend his time than having a nice conversation with someone like you, even if you're the only one that can make his heart race when you called him Mr. Yang.

He's not surprised at all when he hears a knock on his door at night. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up and gazes towards the entrance of his room, spotting you slowly opening it, looking all sheepish as you slide your way into the room, shutting the door behind you.

"Ah, good evening. Isn't it a bit late for you to expect me to go on one of my tangents?" He asks, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement.

“Sorry, I just couldn't sleep. I thought maybe you could talk to me about something for a while? If you don't mind, of course.” You say softly, offering him a small smile as you take a step further into his room, hoping he agrees.

"Oh, you want me to start blathering, hm?" He replies, meeting your gaze and smiling in return. He pats the spot on the bed next to him, inviting you over to sit. You offer your thanks as you take a seat, leaning back against the headboard. “Well. If you're seeking a calming influence, then I suppose you've come to the right place."

You smile at his words, tilting your head to look at him as you settle comfortably on the bed. "Your blathering just so happens to be my favorite thing to listen to.”

Welt raises an eyebrow, eyes narrowing slightly as you admit that you really do like listening to him ramble on. You always bring a feeling of warmth in his chest that he has not felt in a long while. Your company is certainly becoming one of his favorite things on the express.

"And here I thought you were just humoring me to keep me from being lonely." He says, but a smile curls the corner of his mouth regardless. "You're in luck, though. I'll chat your ear off for as long as you need me to.”

And so he does. He starts talking about any topics that come to mind, getting lost in his thoughts as he does so. He's not sure how long he's talking for, but you haven't stopped him yet, so he can only hope he isn't bothering you.

“The starskiffs of the Cloud Knights would head to planets that went out of contact to seek information, while the Xianzhou Ten-Lords Commission remains-” Welt trails off as he feels your head loll against his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. The smile hasn't left his face the entire time, but it only grows at the sight of you lying against his shoulders, eyes half-shut. His hand moves to the back of your head to keep you secure, his thumb gently moving back and forth. “I thought you couldn't sleep, dear. Are my words really so boring to you?”

You shake your head softly, peering up at him through your lashes as he speaks. Your expression is soft, lingering on his eyes for a moment before they drop down to his lips, just for a second. “You're not boring. Not at all. You just make me feel comfortable. Relaxed.”

He nods softly, but he's barely focusing on your words. He can hardly stand being this close to you, and it was impossible to ignore the way your gaze settled on his mouth, even if only for a moment. He wanted you so, so badly.

He's about to open his mouth to say something, anything to distract him enough to stop him from doing anything stupid, until you beat him to it. “I want to kiss you. Please, can I?”

The mere thought of it sends his heart pounding so fast it hurts. He's so old, at least, far older than you. You're still so young, so full of life - how could he expect he'd ever have a chance with you?

Welt nods, his eyes closing momentarily. "Please, be gentle. It... it has been a long time." With his words spoken, he brings his lips to meet yours.

Your lips eagerly meet his once your eyes have fluttered shut, greedily taking in everything he's giving you. His lips are just as soft as you'd imagined, pressing firmly against yours. A small noise escapes him when you cup his cheek, drawing him further towards you.

He leans into the kiss, his hands squeezing you tighter. His lips are warm and gentle, his tongue peeking out gently to prod at your lips until you part them, before it carefully slides into your mouth. His free hand trails down your back to your ass, squeezing it lightly as he deepens the kiss once more, tugging you onto his lap.

“Welt…” You murmur between kisses, brushing his bangs back with your free hand as you straddle him, pressing your body against his. Welt. Not Mr. Yang. The sound of that has him smiling into the kiss, tugging you a little closer.

He's still smiling when you pull away from the kiss, the corner of his eyes crinkling as warmth floods his features. Your warm body pressed against his is enough to have him craving more, his heart pounding against his chest.

“I… I want you. Please.” You breathe out, resting your forehead against his, your thumbs grazing his cheekbones. You slowly roll your hips, rubbing yourself against his clothed cock. You can't help but feel a surge of pride as it instantly fills out, causing Welt to let out an almost pained groan.

"Please, my dear..." He starts, his voice soft and tender, but hoarse with arousal. "Do be patient with me, alright? I... I do not want to disappoint you.”

“You couldn't disappoint me. God, I've wanted you for so long. Wasn't it obvious?” You breathe out, lips pressing against his jaw over and over again. His body is now trembling in your hands, your lips sending his senses into overload. His groan deepens, and he lets out the subtlest of moans when your hips roll to grind down on his lap.

"I-I didn't know that at all..." His breathing is short and shallow now, every moment feeling like the first time you've kissed him. "Who would've known that I'd be so popular with you?”

“I'll be careful, okay?” You murmur against the skin of his neck, nipping and licking at the skin as you paw desperately at his clothes, tugging them off until you're both laid bare on his bed. His pale skin is marred with scars, his muscles slightly toned but covered by a soft layer of flesh.

You sink down slowly onto his length, taking him inch by inch. Welt lets out an involuntary gasp, his hips twitching towards you instinctively to try and drive himself further into your wet cunt. His hand reaches out to grab yours, squeezing it tightly as you begin to build a steady rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock. Your free hand shifts to thread through his hair, yanking gently on the strands.

“I care for you, ah, very deeply, you know?” He said through gritted teeth, his breath coming out in short pants. It had been far too long, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to stave off his orgasm anymore. “I want… I want to make you feel good, too.”

He does his best to ignore the tightening of his stomach, whimpering softly as he feels the coil snap, flooding you with rope after rope of his cum. His free hand presses against your mound, his thumb hastily swiping back and forth over your clit until you're cumming, clenching around his over-sensitive cock until he's gasping your name.

It takes a moment for him to calm down, to catch his breath - but when he does, he's beaming at you, a shimmer in his eyes that he'd long lost returning. “That was perfect, my dear. You're perfect.”

#welt yang x reader #welt yang x you #welt yang smut #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr smut

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mothergold · 11 months ago

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Pairing: Furina x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Masturbation (Furina), Mentions of cum, Multiple Orgasms, Implied Overstimulation (?), You and Furina are dating, Reader is implied to be afab, i struggled with the ending so please be nice to me, uhm idk how long this is i wrote this in tumblr drafts but i think it's about 700-900 words.

A/n: I wanted to write a little thirst while i work at a longer furina fic for you guys. So, here's a lil treat from me to all the furina lovers <3

Tags: @suyacho @tighnarly @themovingcastlez @neuvillettes @auphelia

lady furina can’t stop thinking about you, blushing immensely as she tries to hide her face from you. she counts down the days till she sees you next, eager to grab at your soft and plush body.

eventually the day comes when you meet, again, but something unexpectedly comes up, and you had to cancel your lil date. unfortunately, for lady furina that only leaves her burning for your touch even more than before. she cries out in frustration before looking at photos of you.

furina is in her bed thinking about you and the cancelled date, and that's when it starts, the soft and sensual touches, and the little whiney whimpers that escape her lips. this goes on for quite some time until she realizes she can’t stop, it’s too late. she's already drunk on a wonderous daydream, the fantasy of you two joining your bodies with one beautiful dance. she envisions you slowly removing your clothing and kissing you with an opened mouth as you do so.

that's when the cord snaps. impatiently furina shoves her hand past the band of her underwear and begins to play with your enlarged clit. she pants and whimpers while wondering how your skin would feel against her fingertips. in a moment of abrupt pleasure so intense it shocks, she arches her back as she lets out a loud moan. she can't help it when she cums all over her fingers, rubbing in the stickiness onto her bud. she didn't mean to moan out your name as if it was a cry for help, but it simply couldn't be helped.

furina's face scrunches up in an expression that was a mixture of pain and pleasure. all her senses on fire as visuals of your face flashed in her mind like the flickering light of a kamera. she'd never felt the touch of you like this, or any person for that matter. so, you can imagine how wired her brain and body were in that moment.

it was mere hours later when furina found herself wrapped around a large plush that you had given her on one of your dates. she was still spent from all the fun she had just experienced. cum leaked from her exposed pussy, her face was red as can be, and as she clung to the stuffed animal she daydreamed of you. rocking her hips against the plushie she let out labored breaths as she imagined herself rubbing her clit against yours. god, she wished she could've felt that sensation right here and now.

and as she laid there, soaking in all that she yearned for, she started to drift off to sleep. a sleep in which she dreamt of your lips against hers, and your fingers which played with her body like an instrument. with a smile on her face and a few squirming movements, she let out a soft sigh and fell limp as she finally fell asleep, worrying not about dressing herself before doing so. she was far too blissed out to give a care about it. the only thing on her mind was you. you, you, you, you. forever and always, you.

#furina x reader #furina x you #furina x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #furina smut #genshin smut #genshin thirst

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astracora · 14 days ago

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A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 11

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Suggestive

Word Count: 1024

Written: 22nd December 2024

Notes: Established relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. I wrote this a while back and stewed on it, but I guess I'm posting it so it stops sitting in my drafts for 500 years, until I forget and come back to be like ??? tf was I working on?

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Masterlist AO3

Sylus enjoys training with you. If he treats your training in earnest, you respond in kind, determined and focus. As a hunter you want to be good, you want to be capable, you want to be best placed to help people.

However he feels about hunters in general, he knows your drive comes from a determination to help.

There are times, however, that you let the competitive spirit snarl. That's his favourite. Watching you throw yourself at him, determined to knock him on his ass. It's a part of you that stays consistent, and he sees it most when he teases you, when he takes your challenge too lightly. When he pushes you the right way.

When he says you can't do something.

You become determined to prove him wrong.

You always prove him right in one regard, looking at you with your arm pressed into his throat, legs locked. You're as much a dragon as he is.

"So what do I win?"

You gloat, smug, and he flips the two of you, pressing all his weight in. Amused to hear the little wheezed gasp, as he does so. "Did you win?" He holds himself up on his elbows then, nose against yours. Gleaming eyes sharp but not harsh.

He blinks as you blow in his right eye, and pulls back a little bit, a gasp pulling out of his throat. You follow him though, and bite his nose. "Misbehaving little kitten."

Your laugh shoots him through the heart, but you press your advantage, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling. He can taste you on lips already, leaning in to you. His hand plants next to your head, other reaching for you, but you intercept it. Grabbing him, canting your hips up, against his.

Sylus doesn't think of himself as a needy man. He's had no problems controlling himself in any situation. You have a habit of walking his ideals back, in a way he loves and hates.

For a moment, he feels you against him, and his hips jerk, seeking you out more. A growl deep in his throat. Hand by your head clawing at the ground...

Before you flex again, leg wrapping around him, bite his neck and roll.

His undignified 'oomph', is one thing, he commends you anytime you best him (though he would rather you not use methods like that with just anyone), but the disappointed little whine he feels escape him, is another.

This time you don't pin him, you relax and rest your arms over his chest, crossed, and your chin rests on them to watch him. He stares up at the ceiling, huffs once, and then levels you with an irritable look.

"So my prize?"

You're so smug, wearing a smirk he knows is an impression of him. All canines. He loves you, irritable little kitten that you are, because you're as smart as you are curious. As feisty as you are gentle.

As warm as you can be cold.

"I don't remember offering one, what would you like?" Because how could he deny you anything, when all he wants in this world and the next, is to gift you every treasure so you can't think of anything but him when you see your own home in decor.

You tap your chin with a finger, then reach over to tap his nose, "I want..." you pause and hold him there. Over the precipice, as you enjoy to do, knowing his patience is nigh infinite for you. "You to read a book to me."

He blinks, not sure what he expected, but he's learned if he expects anything with you he'll be surprised and shocked more than he's not. Sometimes he cannot understand what goes through your head, though he thinks that could be part of the joy of knowing you.

Even if it does often result in you blurting out something with very little context.

"A book?"

"Yep."

He blows a little bit of hair out of your eyes, resting his hand on your waist and trying to ignore how thrown off his pace he is. A second ago he wanted to devour you. Well. He always does, if you're around, if you're not. He always wants to sate his hunger. Even if it's just burying his nose into your skin and inhaling.

"What book?"

You push yourself up, ungracefully. This time your smile is yours, excited and ready to drag him along again. You're sweaty and you're tired but he's opened a door to another of your interests and now you won't be able to focus until you show him.

He loves little else than allowing you to talk or share. He's record every word if he could.

You barely wait for him to follow, racing off to where his bookcase is, to where you've begun to place your own. Somehow, when he'd offered, he'd gained a bigger reaction than when he made an entire room up for you. Or cleared out space in the closet in his.

As he enters his own room... your room, because truly isn't this whole base yours now, you thrust a book into his arms.

He barely sees the cover before he's being dragged to the bed, arranged how you like, and then unceremoniously sat on.

Sylus exhales and pulls you into his arms properly, brackets you, and rests his chin on your shoulder so he can open Stardust in front of you.

It's well worn and even though the pages haven't been folded, they're greying at the edges. He can tell you've owned it for years. You tilt your head so you can look at him as he starts, chest vibrating against your back and his deep voice lulling you into a calm it's impossible not to relax into.

He has no idea if he's reading it right, if he's supposed to pull voices out of a hat, if you're even going to enjoy his rendition, but your nose nuzzles against his cheek and you close your eyes as he recites words he knows you know off by heart... and he doesn't think too hard about it.

#wonder writes #love and deepspace #sylus #lads sylus #lads x reader #lads x mc #sylus x reader #reader x sylus #lads #love and deepspace sylus #a mandated Christmas break #also fuck neil gaiman #i forgot to watch my copy of stardust too this christmas #but i did remember to read it for the 500th time.

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vidavalor · 8 months ago

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Thought you might appreciate an odd dream I had recently: Aziraphale (as himself, making no secret of being an angel) going on Great British Bake Off and (without any use of his powers) creating a depiction of the nine circles of Hell from Dante's Inferno in cupcakes and, for Bread Week, making a replica of the Garden of Eden, complete with him and Crowley at the Eastern Gate and a lil' bread Adam and Eve fighting off a bread lion with a bread sword XD (plus the expected adorably enthusiastic wholesomeness and happy wiggling)

What a lovely-sounding dream! I feel like Aziraphale himself has had this dream. He can hear the little voiceover backstory bit now: "Aziraphale Fell lives in the South Downs with his husband, and their car and plants. When he's not busy baking up angelic treats, he keeps himself busy reading and contributing to the democratization of Heaven." I can so see every one of these creations you imagine and they're adorable. Crowley is also very amused by someone knifing up and eating a marzipan-laden Hell.

I'm totally with everyone who fanons that Crowley and Aziraphale are massive GBBO fanatics. I think it's appointment tv in the bookshop. Aziraphale makes hot toddies, Crowley brings treats from the bakery and they curl up on the couch to watch it. Probably spent part of lockdown watching seasons they hadn't seen. (Crowley has miracled Aziraphale's circa-1960-looking television into the streaming era.) They prefer that dirty-joke loving Pru to Mary Berry (who doesn't?) and love Noel, of course. There's a massive joint crush on Paul Hollywood happening and always a running commentary of exactly what they'd bake to try to get a handshake from him... in every possible way you can read that sentence.

I haven't written fic in general in ages but one of the fics I was going to write at some point was actually just going to be the two of them watching Bake Off. There's a started draft somewhere with the line "'those popovers are going to fall, angel" in it. Aziraphale's response was to be something something innuendo along the lines of how the baker would be redeemed by his "performance in the technical." Might have to actually write it at some point.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale

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arminsumi · 1 year ago

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geto/gojo acting au but they're in the Scream film

🔞 mdni, shoo shoo !!

note: i had a vision idk 🐸✌️ just suddenly thought of geto suguru as ghostface and it fkn destroyed me. also lol i started writing abt geto and then gojo just wiggled his way into the post too

warnings — it's a trash draft, no proofreading, a smidge of rivalry n jealousy n sexual tension n innappropriate jokes teehee

ok imagine u and geto are starring in some cheesy horror movie like scream or smth and he's ghostface 🤤 maybe there's like a chase scene where he pins you down but the director keeps saying CUT because you and geto just start breaking down laughing.

and he does a lil improv 🤭 it goes something like;

"ooh, that's it; keep screaming for me, baby. it's turning me on." he murmurs when he's practically straddling you with those muscular thighs and you can't tell if he's genuinely saying that to you or if he's still in character — because truthfully he's just that good at fulfilling his psycho killer role.

and yes you know it's fake blood all over his face but he looks so hot in it that when the scene is played back for you two, you have to make a comment on it;

"suguru looks good in all that blood." you say.

"haha shut up." he chuckles.

he's so bashful and cute irl :( not a psycho killer at all! he always treats you nicely, every time he sees you on set or in the dressing rooms he's quick to strike up a conversation with you. he gets a bit possessive about talking to you, it's so annoying to him that people dare interrupt your "moment" so you just know he loves it when the shoot commences and it's just the two of you and a camera. and the fans go nuts for his natural sultry murmuring voice that he uses esp when he's talking to you. ppl really notice everything, even the heart eyes he has for his costar y/n 🤭

and yk gojo is playing as that other guy who's ghostface's friend or whatever. idk but on set, gojo's such a goofy cute character and then off set he takes himself so seriously 😭 but ofc you and geto bring out the playful side of him. he totally fishes for compliments about how good he is at acting. u know and he's like the fancy mf who walks on set with his fancy clothes and stupid sunglasses with that air of i'm the most important actor in this room.

but he probs always accidentally says your name instead of your characters name during big scenes. and it makes him laugh that laugh that has caught so many hearts around the world.

n maybe you and gojo ... MAYBE you two starred together in a cheesy romance film before this dumb horror film, and so everyone online pairs you two together and makes edits of the "steamy" scenes where ur flirting. guaranteed if u type in "gojo x y/n" u will find sooooooo manyyyy clips of interviews that fans claim had "tension"

and that makes geto a lil jealous bc the tension is supposed to be focused on you and him 🤬

esp that stupid clip from the movie where it's gojo cornering u and he's so sultry like;

"you're a lil' feisty, huh?" gojo giggles with a voice crack and it reminds you so much of when he was starring for that one scene in jjk 🙈 you know that show, remember that show? the one you and him starred in years ago? mhm MHM that scene where you're the villain and he's not? and he's like "put out your hand, let me show you something" and he's just showing off his infinity MHM THAT'S YOU IN THAT SCENE (jogo who idk him babe)

#🗑️ — trash #geto x reader #geto #geto suguru #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #acting au #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto x gojo #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #jujustu kaisen #satoru

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garoujo · 2 years ago

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✩ ˛˚ . MIKAGE REO ; — your stepbrother knows that nobody will ever treat you as well as he does.

warnings: f!reader, stepcest, spit, all character written 22+, hes a little possessive always. note: this has been rotting in my drafts for life sob! i’m bad but it’s here as a lil freebie this week since i didn’t plan to finish :3

“do you like it, bunny? think it suits you, you gonna thank your step brother, yeah? spoil you so much.” reo smirks as he presses kisses along your collarbone, deliberately taking extra care across the pretty little thin chain that hangs over your skin before he’s laving his tongue across the pretty R with his next suckled kiss.

your step brother had always spoiled you, his family had the money afterall — you’d thought it was maybe his way of getting you to like him, to trust him. he’d buy you the most lavish gifts, pretty dresses and jewellery, take you out for brunch and dinner, but the longer it went on, the more you began to suspect it wasn’t just that.. something different, something darker.

but reo just thinks you look extra pretty when you’re dressed in the things he bought you, like he’s staking a claim — a lavish little show and tell of everything that’s his, he got everything that he wanted, including you. so he looks so fucking smug when he looks at you now, his possession, his pretty little step sister, pressed beneath him as you take your big brothers cock — such a spoiled brat.

“reo.. told you—ah! told you to stop buying me stuff.” you gasp with his next particularly deep kiss of his cock along your sweet spots, every grind of his hips into yours feels so fucking good and you can barely breathe as your toes curl from where they’re wrapped around his hips.

“why? you got somebody else who’s gonna buy ‘em?” there’s a carnal drop in reo’s tone as he answers you quickly, thrusts slowing to a grind like he’s giving you an opportunity to collect your thoughts — to tell him exactly what he wants to hear. it’s filthy, so fucked up the way you hiccup — hips twitching to try and chase more of your brother’s cock, you need him deeper, faster as you bathe him in little nuh ugh’s and only you reo.

“come on, you don’t wanna hurt my feelings, bunny. know you like when i spoil you, can feel it — treat you best. you said you’re mine, right?” dizzying, your stepbrother was dizzying as he sinks his cock into your stretched cunt — making you melt and mould into something that’s all fucking his when he’s got you spread out around him, fucking you into a puddle of desire and need for only him.

“‘m sorry, didn’t mean it—ah!” you finally gasp with what little sanity you can gather together in your clouded mind, but you feel reo place a short, sweet kiss against your pouty lips at the apology before he’s giving you what he knows you need. “see, hah. don’t gotta worry about anything else when you’ve got me. just don’t want people trying to steal you away from me ‘s all, big brothers gotta protect what’s theirs.” he’s deliberately grazing his cock along the swollen spots inside of you that make your eyes roll back, almost flutter closed before he’s tightening his fingers in your skin again and accompanying his words with another sickly sweet kiss.

”i.. fuck! i know, don’t wanna get stolen away.” you gasp as his cock stirs its way up inside of you, smearing slick along the smooth skin of his pelvis everytime he presses his hips deep into yours and he moans, loud and so fucking shameless when he feels you squeeze around him before he chuckles lowly.

“wont let it happen, bunny.” reo’s confidence in his words is unwavering and you feel his fingers trace up your jaw before they’re pressing against your parted lips. he’s prying them further open and you catch the small glint of something dark in his lidded gaze when he looks at you, smirking when you listen so well — such a perfect little treasure.

your lips part, tongue swiping along his fingers before you watch a glob of spit drip slow from between his own, making you moan when you feel the taste of him drench and ignite your taste buds. but then his fingers are quickly replaced by his lips when he leans down to kiss you breathless, pushing his tongue against your own as his hips resume their rough pace and he pushes his name back between your lips.

“you didn’t tell me if you liked your present, bunny. you want something bigger? hmphh, fuck.. i’ll give you all of me, all mine.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#cw stepcest #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock smut #bllk x you #bllk smut #bllk x reader #reo x reader #reo smut #mikage reo x reader #mikage reo x you #mikage reo smut

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tokoyamisstuff · 2 months ago

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Divine Intervention

Alexander Anderson x f! nurse! Reader

2,9k. words | no warnings | childhood friends to lovers | mutual pining | premise inspired by the 'Angel Dust' Manga

Synopsis: Since catholicism is declining in number, priests are officially able to get married - and Anderson knows just who to ask.

A/N: This is a lil' gift for my old friend @otakutater0724. 💌 Sadly I had no fucking clue where to go with this one, so it's ill paced. But better post it than letting it rot in my drafts, right?

"A wife?!" Anderson leans back in his chair, huffing in irritation at this absurd request. "Are ya' out of yer' goddamn mind?"

Maxwell had his hands neatly folded on the table between them, slowly gliding an official Vatican paper towards his foster father. "It's merely my duty to inform you." The archbishop points towards a specific paragraph, explaining the latest reform. "Besides, this is by far not the first time that the bible has been reinterpreted."

The Judas Priest frowns as he grabs the document, face turning pensive as he read the fancy wording. Basically, it stated that servants of the lord are not only allowed, but highly encouraged to lay down their chastity vows and bring forth a new generation of catholics. Enrico assured him it was a temporary change, maybe for one or two generations, but in these trying times there wasn't another option.

At first the man was downright offended at the suggestion. Cast aside the fact that they were literally changing the Lord's gospel, was he not doing more than enough through funding a whole entire orphanage?!

But then his superior remarked something that made him see this heresy in a whole new light.

"What about...what was her name again...Y/N?"

Anderson almost choked on air at the familiar name, much to his friend's amusement. "What about her, huh?"

"Nothing!" the younger man throws his hands into the air in defense, for a change really only wanting the best for his former mentor. "But if I remember correctly, the two of you have been very close before you started your holy work, right?"

"...you really got no shame, speaking about your elders like that." In his indignation, he crumples the paper and throws it at Maxwell's direction. "I'd curse the man who raised you so terribly, but then I'd only be insulting myself."

"You're free to ignore it. After all, it's a suggestion and not an order" The archbishop shrugs, calling after the hurriedly leaving Paladin. "Just think about it, alright?"

That incorrigible fool Maxwell, how dare he to even address such a topic?!

Anderson was furious beyond belief, and if he wasn't back at the orphanage already he would've certainly itched for some blood. Rushing through the hallways, the staff keeps their heads down as he passes them, knowing it's better to avoid him in such an agitated state.

Initially he had planned to just seek refuge in the security of his room, surrounded by nothing but the - unedited - bible. Yet it seems the Lord had other plans with him, as he was given a sign...quite literally. Being as tall as he is, the priest almost hit his head at the new board hanging from the ceiling, the words 'INFIRMARY' written on them in capital letters.

Oh. Yeah, right, the orphanage now had it's own health ward. Usually the nuns were able to treat minor injuries or illnesses, but these days many children come into his care with more severe or complicated medical conditions. Was about time.

The opening was today? Shit, he completely forgot about it. This was such an important event for you, being designated to become the head nurse. He should know best, since he paid for your whole education after all.

Actually, after his earlier conversation with Maxwell left him so bewildered, he rather wanted to avoid meeting you until he calmed down - but it seems like he has no other choice.

If it's for your sake, he could swallow his concerns and just be there for you on that big day. Can't hurt to stop by and congratulate you either way. So he hastily plucked some flowers from the garden before making his way towards your new office.

As he roams the building, Anderson involuntarily starts reminiscing. Has it really been so many years already? Time sure flies.

It's still surreal to think about the fact that you both had been wanted criminals in the past. He barely remembers any of it, chose to lock those memories into some dark corner of his mind - with the exception of some pleasant ones, mostly revolving around you...his favourite little troublemaker.

The two of you were born into poverty, befriending each other through shared misery and sticking together for survival. He would keep you safe, while you took care of him. Easy as that. It may have started as some kind of arrangement, but your bond soon grew into a wonderful friendship, and eventually - unbeknownst to you both - a mutual crush on the other.

With no real perspective you joined a criminal gang early on. Anderson, with his physical advantage, became one of their most skilled assassins, while you gained your earnings as a smuggler and thief. Together you had caused a lot of mischief, to put it mildly.

But after a mission gone south your childhood friend needed to keep a low profile for a while, since the bosses thought he was the one behind the disappearance of a great amount of heroin. At first his priesthood served as a mere disguise, but he soon found solace in his faith, seeing it as a way to atone for his sins.

The plan was never to abandon you. He was thinking about you every single day, praying for your safety until he'd return. It took him more time than anticipated, mostly due to being trained fighting vampires and other evil spirits, but eventually he managed to secure an important position at the Vatican as their enhanced holy warrior.

Much to his devastation however when he finally came to take you with him, the gang was disbanded due to internal conflict and a lot of arrests. Years he spent searching for you, but all clues led to dead ends.

The last straw was when he had finally tracked down his former leader, and to spite him the man made up a story about your alleged execution years ago. Needless to say this man suffered a violent death at Anderson's hands.

Now that he thinks about it, the priest is sure that he would have never taken on his religious title if he knew you were still out there somewhere.

Yet in the end after a long time of mourning, he decided that it was for the best to fully commit to the church - he never wanted anyone besides you, after all, so there was no reason not to become celibate.

Fate played both of you dirty however, because just shortly after taking his oath, you met again by sheer coincidence. You were trying to rob him during bright daylight, acting like an all coy and helpless damsel. Typical.

You didn't recognize him at first, the timid young boy from back then having grown into a literal beast of a man...Anderson on the other hand could never forget those eyes that made his knees weak whenever you'd look at him a certain way.

When you finally connected the dots, you punched him with as much force as your emotions bestowed on you, grabbing onto the collar of his coat and spitting vile curses at him for leaving you behind just like that.

All those years spent apart and really, it felt like no time had passed at all.

Even long after the misunderstanding had been cleared, Anderson's guilty conscience never ceased. Until this day he'd apologize to you, though you repeatedly assured him you held no grudge. Quite the opposite, even.

The priest had taken you in without hesitation, helping you turn your life around and rebuild at his side. You weren't exactly fond of the church, always saying they were corrupt and that even if god exists, he had failed you. But it was certainly better than living on the streets, and as long as your dear friend was happy, you'd be damned to ridicule his faith.

Most of the nuns hated your guts nonetheless, always saying a heathen like you is a bad influence to the dedicated man, even when you were on your best behavior.

Nonetheless, Father Anderson might've decided to keep his position, but he promised himself to never turn his back on you again. If you'd let him, he'll gladly take care of you for the rest of his life.

As long as you were at his side, he was fine with how things ended up...

...at least until the latest decree, that was.

The possibility alone re-ignited a fire deep inside of him that was diminished by the illusion of your loss, never daring to light it again out of fear to relive the same pain all over again.

But the ember always preserved.

Anderson's initial anger had completely evaporated, making room for a mixture of both dread and excitement when he reached his destination. Peeking through the small glass window in the door, he sees you decorating the place, moving along to a happy song you were chanting. Sweet as always he thought, but you certainly would object. You were never really aware of the effect you had on him, after all.

A smile was tugging on the edge of his lips, allowing himself to observe you for a moment to brace him for the confrontation. You haven't aged a day in his eyes, if anything the years only made you more beautiful to him.

You only took notice of his presence when the door falls into the lock, and immediately your small smirk turns into a barely containable grin. "Without a chaperone again?" you teased and poked his chest. "How unbecoming, Father."

Jokes aside, the Abbess doesn't approve of you two being alone with each other, always saying the devil is the third person in the room. Their precious, sophisticated paladin associating with a savage nobody like you was heresy enough in her eyes, as well as everyone else of the higher-ups.

If only they knew you were literally hanging around in his room on the regular, even sleeping in his bed from time to time, they'd certainly get a stroke...

Not that they were wrong, you did have a habit of persuading him into having some fun for a change. Nothing indecent, really, just harmless pranks to make special memories for the children for example. Like that one time you decorated the entire courtyard for Halloween and emptied their offertory to buy sweets for the orphans.

You would surely be punished again if anyone gets wind of this...

"Alex?" He winced a little hearing his old nickname, never insisting that you called him by his official title. The priest felt his heart threaten to break out of his chest, experiencing a kind of fear he lacked to feel even while fighting literal monsters.

A moment passed without any answer. The man was rooted on spot, staring at you with a bashful expression you knew very well from your younger days. It was always so easy making him flustered, your sweet innocent Alex.

"Darlin', are you alright?" You look up to the much taller man, putting a hand on his cheek which instantly sends a blush up his neck. His face is already bright red as he gently squeezes your shoulders, determination present in his emerald eyes as he blurts out "...marry me."

"Wha-" Stumbling back, you almost hit the desk behind if it wasn't for him wrapping one arm around your waist. "Excuse me?!"

Anderson pins you with a stern expression, taking ahold of your wrist and letting his thumb run across your knuckles. "Ye' heard me just right."

"Did you have too much sacramental wine again?" You raise an eyebrow at him while wriggling out of his hold, but you were effectively trapped between his body and the furniture. "Don't worry, I assure ye' I'm sober." But truth be told, at the same time he never felt so intoxicated in his entire life.

You had a clue what he was implying, the nuns have been talking about nothing else those past few hours. The elders were shocked, to say the least, wanting to stick to the old ways, while the younger ones were absolutely thrilled, already making plans.

But Anderson, a devout and literal saint who was so dead set on his religious ways...for him to even consider something like that was just too absurd to be true.

Maybe you're just dreaming you conclude, pinching yourself, yet that action only made him chuckle with that damn raspy voice of his. You felt embarassed and at the same time too baffled to even react properly, let alone form a verbal response. But he doesn't seem to mind, gifting you a lovestruck expression as he holds your hands into his much taller ones.

"God has granted me this second chance" he murmurs, leading the back of your hand to his lips. "I won't be wasting it this time...if you'll have me, I mean."

"Why-" you let out a shaky breath, the dam you've built so carefully around your feelings for this man giving in way too easily. You had promised yourself to never dare of hoping again, but even after all those years he still held your heart with ease. "I don't understand...why would you of all people want to marry?"

"I...to be honest, I was doting on you ever since we were teenagers" he admits, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. The confession left his heart like a burdening weight, no matter what your answer might be.

Your eyes widened in shock, feeling so many things at once - mostly regret for all those wasted years you could've spent together. He was first to speak again, though, tone as woeful as your heart felt. "I shouldn't have given up on you...Y/N, I'm so sorry."

"C'mon, now don't be all gloomy..." You tried to brighten the mood, squeezing his hands as you mirror his nervous smile. "We've been over this so many times. You weren't at fault."

"Actually, I was..." That statement made you gasp in disbelief, and he suddenly pressed your head against his chest, unable to bear the look in your eyes. "It was really me who stole the heroin from the boss back then."

He feels you claw the fabric of his shirt, only imagining what you must feel right now, but his embrace is relentless. "That was a reckless idea" you grid, feeling anger and betrayal burn in your guts. "Even for your standards."

Anderson chuckled to cover up his hurt. "But I did it for you. For us." His head rests atop of yours now, and you feel him shake ever so slightly. "I never told you how I felt because you deserved so much better than what I had to offer. I wanted to sell the drugs, and with the money we could've built a life somewhere far away...as you said, I should've known better. Wishful thinking, maybe."

"...you're unbelievable." You eventually push him away so he'd look at you, his heart sinking as he detects tears streaming down your cheeks. There were times when you slept under bridges, only having each other to hold on to keep you warm. How did he even get the idea that you needed anything besides him at your side?

"Tell me to leave and that I'll do" he announces calmly, his gaze full of sheer adoration. But you won't have any of this, not again, not anymore. "Oh, don't you dare. As if I'd ever let you leave again after knowing this!"

You fiercely grab the collar of his robe, no resistance in his stance as you pull him in for a kiss. Anderson is taken by surprise, yet dwells in the feeling of finally closing the distance between you he only had himself to blame for.

Looking at you right now, you seemed so unusual shy and giddy, face hiding nuzzled against his chest as you tried containing your joy. Adorable.

"Then it's decided?" He sounds both relieved and anxious, but you instantly plant another, more tender kiss to his jaw. "Of course, you blockhead!" And yet you snivel, unable to let go off of a last ounce of distrust and past hurt. "Please, Alex...you have no idea how long I've loved you...don't leave."

"Never again. I swear." He swallowed harshly at the impact of your words, cursing his own foolishness. "I may not be worth the wait, but I'll promise to make it up to you every single day."

There was no time to lose, not a single second he wanted to waste after leaving decades of longing behind the two of you.

So only a few days later the two of you found yourselves in front of the altar, being married by the archbishop himself in a small ceremony. His words were accompanied by the breaking dawn, a symbol of hope as the raising sun banished away the darkness of the night.

"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8)" Maxwell spoke, a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips at the thought of having been matchmaker for the two of you. "My congratulations, you may now kiss the bride."

A ray of sunlight hit the tinted glass of the church window, engulfing your white dress in a variety of colors. Anderson lifted your veil, this most divine sight making him whisper a grateful prayer to the lord for providing him with this greatest bliss. One sole tear of happiness escapes his eye before claiming your lips with a fervor unlike anything either of you ever felt, ensuring you that all the obstacles were always meant to lead you to this day.

Whatever laid behind you, now you'd await a brighter future together.

"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13)"

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #alexander anderson #alexander anderson x reader #reader insert #writing #fanfiction #drabble

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ppomumgranatum · 5 months ago

Text

meet me in the infinity.

also available on Ao3

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

tags: one shot, you POV, modern AU

word count: 4k

Summary: the chances of us meeting are almost zero, but sometimes, it’s not about the odds but the moments that defy them.

Notes: idk if you guys are into au but I am back from a long vacation and hope you can enjoy this short lil treat 🤠

Saturdays were your favourite. It's a sweet reprieve from the weekday hustle and bustle and is your time to kick back, unwind, and indulge in a bit of freedom without the looming spectre of work. But this Saturday in particular wasn’t quite the respite you had hoped for. Lately work has been more demanding of your time and it honestly was getting exhausting. Even the usual picturesque English town, where the buildings are quaint and the atmosphere is steeped with history, no longer soothes you.

Earlier this morning, you received an email with the subject “Friendly Reminder” from your editor, Cressida, regarding an upcoming deadline for an article that you’re currently working on a recent relic discovery. Knowing her bluntness, you were sure the content would be anything but— which only adds up to the already piled up pressure.

You could’ve made better progress if the archeologist you were supposed to interview didn’t reschedule. Again. For the second time. The first cancellation had been a minor inconvenience. You’d managed to adjust, shuffling your deadlines and taking it in stride. However, when the second request for rescheduling came in, it felt like a relentless barrier to your progress.

His insight is crucial. Without him you might as well write nothing. But your precious time was not going to be wasted on grousing over some nerd boomer.

You’re still determined to salvage the day, so you decided to head to the local café. Upon entering, you were greeted by the warm, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversations. After ordering your usual, you chose a long communal table and sat on the corner.

As you settled in, you opened the draft of your article on your laptop, while a notebook lay ready for you to scribble any spontaneous notes or inspirations. The cursor blinked at you, almost mockingly, but you were in the zone, deeply immersed in crafting your drafts and preparing insightful questions, that the world outside was nothing but a mere meaningless blank canvas.

Your head was running like a bullet train until a voice broke through your concentration.

"Excuse me, do you mind if I share this table?"

Looking up, you were met with a warm smile from a handsome stranger.

Handsome was an understatement, this man was gorgeous. He had those brown eyes that were so mesmerising they felt like earth after a summer rain. The kind that you wouldn't mind getting lost in.

And his smile— God, his smile— felt like a sudden burst of sunlight through a stormy sky, stealing the air from your lungs and leaving you momentarily breathless.

You knew that exactly because you realised that you had been staring at him for one second too long and your chest was desperate for air.

You quickly gathered your scattered thoughts and motioned toward the empty seat opposite you. "Not at all, please, go ahead," you replied, trying to hide your surprise at the interruption.

The stranger settled into the chair across from you, sipping his coffee casually. He had a book in hand. You tried your best to focus on your own task, but you couldn't help glancing up every once in a while.

There was something strangely familiar about him. It was like stumbling upon a character from a half-remembered dream, someone you couldn't fully place but felt a curious connection to.

Every single of your brain cells were trying so hard to gather your scattering focus to get back to work. You tried to scribble some words on your notebook but your thoughts were getting blurry and the only thing crystal clear was the image of the man sitting in front of you.

“You work for BBC?” He suddenly asked and he could tell that you looked confused so he had to clarify with a small gorgeous smile tugged on his lips, “Your pen. I assume you work there or have stolen it.”

“Oh.” You blinked and gave away a small smile, “Both, actually. I lost mine and took it from an annoying colleague.”

“Ah.. justified.” He replied playfully.

There had to be something wrong with your brain because you couldn’t think of a single comeback. Forget wit, you could’ve said anything casual like a normal person would but nothing came out. Being critical and creative were the reason your mouth was fed and yet you’re speechless in his presence.

Some hand of desperation was tugging inside you to have this conversation going and like a weird interrelation you sensed that he must’ve felt the same way because then he continued, “Are you on telly, then?” There was a genuine spark of interest in his question.

“No, I’m a feature writer.” You politely corrected him, “I write for History.”

“My apologies.” There was a momentary pause before he continued, "You know, I read this incredible story on there a couple of months ago about some marine archaeologists discovering an alleged Viking shipwreck off the coast of Ireland. It was so vivid and immersive—I think the writer really nailed it."

"Yeah, I remember that one," you confessed, feeling a touch of bashfulness colour your cheeks, "I actually wrote that piece.”

“No way.” He sounded pleasantly surprised but not in a dramatic kind of way. Like he expected you to be great— like he somehow already knew you, “Though, at first I suspected that it was a Mediaeval ship rather than Viking when I saw a picture of the rudder. Such maritime technology was known later in the time period, not Viking.”

You smiled in disbelief for his astute observation, “It is Mediaeval. They posted their final report recently.”

“Well, it's always nice to know that you are right.” He grinned.

“What are you? A history enthusiast?””

“Something like that.”

“Oh really?” You sounded slightly surprised by guessing correctly, ”What’s caught your eyes recently?”

He shrugged, “There’s this relic found in a catacombs in Scotland.”

Your heart beat a single loud thud it echoed to your brain. You tried to mask the shock with a nod and contemplated slightly on the coincidence. But something must be written all over your face because he asked, “Something wrong?”

“Oh, nothing– it’s just a really funny coincidence.”

“What is?”

“I actually have an interview with someone at the museum about said relics on Monday.” You confessed reluctantly.

There was a pause.

“Monday, 11 AM?”

You were a bit thrown off by his knowledge of your schedule, but you didn't want to make assumptions. “..yes. How do you know?”

“Because I, too, have an interview on Monday at 11 AM with a reporter from BBC about said relics.” A playful smile tugged on the corner of his lips, “I mean— feature writer.”

Your eyes widened when the realisation dawned on you. The man sitting in front of you—relaxed, casual, and sipping his coffee—was not just some history enthusiast, he’s a history expert and more specifically the very person you had been cursing in your head for the past couple of weeks.

The coincidence was almost too perfect.

“You’re Dr. Sebastian Sallow?”

“Nice to meet you.” He charmingly said, before taking a sip of his coffee.

Your mouth gaped open slightly trying to find the right words to say to him but you were too bewildered by the figure in front of you.

“I-i’m sorry I just didn’t expect you to look so..” —Handsome? Charming? Astoundingly stunning? Drop-dead gorgeous? Hunky?— “..young.”

Thank God something appropriate actually came out of your mouth.

He chuckled and set down his coffee, “I get that a lot. I suppose the hazard of this job is people expecting all of us to look like we’re withering away.”

“I guess I did picture someone more slumpy with white hair.” You felt the initial shock begin to melt away as you tittered at his attempt to lighten up the mood, “This is quite a pleasant surprise, Dr. Sallow.”

“Oh please, just Sebastian would suffice.” He waved you off, “It bothers me when people call me Doctor outside of the museum. That title means something else entirely to most of the people here and I don’t want anyone suffering a heart attack expecting me to help them and all I have with me is my humidity control equipment.”

“Fair enough. Just Sebastian.” You joked.

And he laughed at the lamest jest a woman could ever throw.

This man is handsome, has a great sense of humour, and humble. You’ve only met him for a few minutes and he’s already ticking a lot of boxes.

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, still grinning. "But if I’m just Sebastian, you can’t be just a feature writer either. We’re both at a disadvantage then."

His eyes locked with yours with that playful glimmer in them. And again, you found yourself at a loss for what to say. You were used to being in control of a conversation, but Sebastian’s easy charm had thrown you off-kilter.

"You’re not going to withhold your name because of some rule of journalistic ethics, are you?"

Sebastian's grin grew wider as he watched you struggle to come up with a response. You were flustered, and he seemed to be relishing the situation a little too much.

Truly, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about him that you just couldn't put your finger on. Something pleasant, definitely. The way he spoke, the way your banters flow so naturally, and even the way he smiled—all of it had an air of comfortable familiarity that put you at ease.

"Well?" He prompted, still waiting for your answer.

You blinked, realising you had been silent for too long. You could feel a blush spreading on your cheeks. You introduced yourself, your name rolling off his tongue in a way that sounded almost musical. And there it was, that odd sense of familiarity you had felt earlier, a touch of déjà vu that had caught you off guard. The sound of your name on Sebastian's lips, the way he repeated it, testing the syllables.. it sounds just.

But strangely, you didn't mind. In fact, you almost revelled in it. Sebastian's gaze met yours, holding it just a moment too long. That flicker of recognition in his eyes mirrored your own. You felt that strange comfort again, as if he understood whatever you’re feeling, too.

“I do apologise for the delays. I had to attend to some urgent matter.”

“Oh, please, it’s alright.” Lie. That was an absolute lie.

“Since the museum is literally across the street, do you want to have a look? I could show you around and perhaps give you a headstart for the interview.” He suggested, “I could at least try to make up for the delay. If I’m not interrupting anything, of course.”

The offer to view the relics early was certainly tempting, especially knowing the pressure you were under to meet the deadline. But if you could be honest, getting to spend more time with Sebastian was what sold you.. His easy-going nature was refreshing, and the banter was already so much better than any interview you’ve had.

“I suppose a little preview can’t hurt.” You agreed, a smile tugging at your lips. “Lead the way, Dr— er, Sebastian.”

The museum stood majestically across the street, an elegant building that exuded an aura of history and mystery. Instead of leading you to the usual main entrance, Sebastian guided you through a small side entrance, known only to museum staff and researchers.

He held the door open for you, a gentlemanly gesture that warmed your heart just a little more. The hallway was quiet, with the stillness broken only by the soft sound of your footsteps on the tiled floor. Sebastian led you towards a door at the end of the corridor.

As he pushed open the door, it revealed a wide room that looked more like a combination of a lab and an office space. There were shelves lined with various tools, equipment, and all sorts of items that you assume were historical artefacts, were placed all over.

As you glanced at the relics spread out on the lab equipment, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. There was something intimate and profound about having access to history in such a raw and unadulterated state. You were used to writing articles about historical events and interviewing people in the field, but this was different.

This was a peek behind the curtain, an up-close-and-personal experience unlike anything you had ever had before. It reminded you of the time your parents took you to a sweet shop.

Sebastian noticed your wide-eyed wonder and smiled, "It's something, isn't it? This is where the real magic happens. Each artefact here has a story waiting to be uncovered."

You nodded, still taking in the scene. "It's incredible.”

He led you further and you followed behind him, "This is where we carefully study, preserve, and sometimes even restore pieces of history. It's a meticulous process, but incredibly rewarding."

He pointed to a workbench where a delicate, ornate vase was being examined. "For example, this vase was found in a burial site in Wales. It's over a thousand years old, and we're trying to learn more about the culture that created it."

“The detail is astonishing.” You marvelled at its intricate patterns and delicate craftsmanship, a testament to the skill of its maker.

Sebastian was clearly amused by your reaction as the smile painted on his face was as wide as yours.

He then guided you to another section of the lab, where a different artefact lay under soft lighting, carefully displayed on a padded surface. It was a small, ornately decorated bronze mirror, its reflective surface dulled with age but still faintly gleaming.

"This," Sebastian said, "is another fascinating piece. It's a Celtic mirror, also found around the area where we found the vase and it dates back to around the same period. Mirrors like this one were not just utilitarian objects but it also held significant cultural and spiritual value."

Your eyes trailed along the other tables. The beauty of these items were clearly overwhelming and to be surrounded by such rich history was an amazing feeling.

Amongst the collections, your eyes faltered into an object that appeared to be some sort of cane. The wood of the shaft looked like a well polished ebony with a brass handle and it looked relatively new compared to some of the others that were certainly ancient.

Curiosity piqued, you turned to Sebastian and asked, "What about this one? It’s so beautiful. How does it look so well-preserved, though? How old is it?"

Sebastian’s eyes were a little bit flustered. He carefully lifted it from its display stand. "Ah, this one is actually younger than us."

You blinked in surprise. "Huh? What do you mean?"

He smiled, holding the cane carefully. "I just got it from a shop down at the market. It’s for my roommate. He’s blind."

“Oh.” Well, that’s not embarrassing at all.

A few pieces later, you eventually circled back to the purpose of your visit: the relic you were meant to be writing about.

It was an ancient, intricately carved triangular piece, rumoured to have ties to a long-lost civilisation. The designs were rather suspicious and eerie which Sebastian later explained that some people believed it was used for some sort of dark magic ritual.

At that point you don’t know what was more beautiful, the way he captivated you with his eloquence or the way his eyes sparkled with so much passion in what he’s doing.

It wasn’t just his knowledge that drew you in— it was the way he made you feel connected to the past, to something greater than yourself. His presence was magnetic, and you found yourself wanting to know more—not just about the relic, but about him.

His smile, when he caught your gaze, was warm and genuine. It made your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected. It’s so magical you were practically spellbound. You realised that you were no longer interested in the story you were here to write but you were way more enthralled by the man who was telling it.

When the formalities of your interview were completed, Sebastian suggested showing you a special place within the museum. Intrigued, you agreed. He led you through a series of winding corridors, past exhibits and storage rooms, until you arrived at a small, unmarked door. He unlocked it with a key he retrieved from his pocket, and you both stepped inside.

The room was a hidden gem, unlike any other part of the museum. It was a spacious atrium with a glass ceiling, allowing the evening light to filter through and bathe the room in a soft, golden glow. It’s an indoor garden that gives off a serene, almost magical atmosphere. In the centre of the room was a small fountain, the gentle sound of trickling water adding to the tranquillity

He led you to an alcove that overlooked a small pond. You leaned against the railing while Sebastian shared anecdotes about his childhood, his inspirations, and the journey that led him to become a historian. He mentioned that his twin sister, who had recently overcome cancer, was under his sole care, which was his reason for rescheduling your meeting a couple of times.

The more he opened up to you, the more familiar he felt. Despite hearing his stories for the first time, none of it felt foreign. Each laugh, each sigh, and each heartfelt revelation came with a comforting rhythm between the two of you. It made the evening feel like an unfolding chapter of a story you were always meant to be a part of in a strange yet pleasant way possible.

It was in this context that you found yourself unable to shake the feeling that there was something more to your connection.

“I’ve been meaning to ask this,” you said, a hint of hesitation in your voice, “have we met before?”

Sebastian smiled and shook his head, “I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I just— I don’t know how to explain it but this entire day has been feeling like a—” Your head was searching for the right word but Sebastian managed to find it for you.

“Like a déjà vu?”

“Exactly.” You said softly, “Like a déjà vu.”

Sebastian hummed in agreement, his eyes studying your face intently. It was as if he too, was trying to decipher the strange familiarity that seemed to linger between the two of you.

“So you’re feeling the same way?”

“Yeah.”

There was an extended silence, allowing the both of you to get lost in your thoughts.

"I’ve been trying to figure out why this day feels so surreal. Meeting you, the sound of your name, even the way everything is unfolding—it’s like it’s part of a story I already know." He confessed, “Like this was some forgotten history written some time ago and when I look at you.. something in me recognises you. It’s like we’re supposed to know each other somehow.”

He managed to articulate exactly what you were feeling. Then he moved closer to you, “Do you believe in destiny, by any chance?"

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as Sebastian posed the question. You've never been one to believe in destiny—or fate for that matter. But something about this situation, this moment, seemed to defy all rules and logic.

“Not usually, no. I’m more of a taking-my-own-chances kind of woman.” You replied truthfully, ”Do you?”

“I’m not sure,” He admitted while his eyes never left yours. “But I do believe in probabilities. Do you know why?”

You swallowed hard, your heart now hammering against your ribcage with increasing speed.

“No,” You whispered, your voice suddenly sounding very small, “Why?”

“Probabilities are often tied to the idea of potentiality and the nature of existence. It’s about the likelihood of certain outcomes based on a series of events and choices that can lead us to moments that feel almost destined.” He began, “Some theories believe that these events might interact and create an infinite number of new realities.”

As he spoke, his fingers lightly touched your resting arm.

“Essentially, you could be the archeologist and I am the writer. Or you could be a hero and I could be a wizard.” He took another step closer, “In this vast expanse of parallel realities, there is a probability that our choices might have led us to cross paths. And perhaps in some of those realities, we already have.”

No matter how many possibilities there were, you knew there was only one outcome you truly wished for.

“What’s the probability of us meeting today in this version of reality, then?”

“If we consider the vastness of all possible outcomes and the nearly infinite number of parallel realities, the chance of us meeting today in this particular one— I’d say almost impossible.” His fingers continued to lightly trace your arm, “And yet here we are, having this conversation. I guess despite that infinitesimal probability, something extraordinary has happened.”

You hummed, “I guess no amount of parallel universes or alternative realities can account for the fact that sometimes–some people–are meant to be.”

“I thought you’re more of a taking your own chances kind of woman.”

You leaned in closer until you could feel his breath on your skin. He was now so close, you could count the eyelashes framing his brown eyes and the freckles that decorate his skin, “Well, I’m taking my chances now.”

Finally, you closed the final gap and met him in a kiss that felt like a culmination of those infinite possibilities. Sebastian's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. You were acutely aware of every sensation: the taste of his lips, the firmness of his hold against you, the heat of his body against yours.

You didn’t know what you had expected of his kiss. Merely hours ago, you never knew Sebastian existed and yet his touch on your lips felt as familiar as a cherished memory. There was a warmth and a tenderness in his kiss that spoke of a connection far deeper than the short time you had known each other.

It was not like any other kiss you’ve ever experienced. Not a single word in the dictionary can come close in describing the overwhelming splash you feel throughout your entire body. This man— this stranger—was kissing you back, and you were certain that everything felt perfectly right.

When you finally pulled back, you both were breathless, faces inches apart, foreheads touching and his eyes were still locked onto yours.

“Kissing a woman I just met in the coffee shop today was definitely not on my list.” He admitted

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the room’s temperature. “Me, too. But I’m glad it happened.”

You both stood there for a moment longer, savouring the intimacy of the shared space and the connection that had formed between you. As you continued sharing the moment, Sebastian still had his arms wrapped around you until eventually, you both knew it was time to leave. But he didn’t want to let go and neither did you.

“You know,” He began, “Since we’ve practically had the interview. What if we go out for brunch, let’s say, Monday 11 AM?”

“Yeah? And what’s next?”

“Hmm, we could have a walk? Have dinner some time after? Or perhaps we could make out in some other places?”

Your laughter came out light and carefree. Sebastian had to mentally take a note of his new favourite music, “All of the above, please. I don’t want any of it to end.”

“Neither do I,” His eyes softened as he looked at you, “Or we could keep taking chances and see where it takes us?”

“Sounds perfect.” You leaned in once again to give a final kiss on his lips.

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow au

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thebigoblin · 11 months ago

Text

On The Dance Floor

tags: Not Scott McCall Friendly, Inspired by a Song, Oneshot, Alpha Derek Hale, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Getting Together, The Hale Pack 2.0, Fluff, Minor Sheriff Stilinski/Melissa McCall

a/n: found this in my drafts tagged as "complete." figured i'll post this as a lil weekend treat <3 so cleaned it up a bit. i'll post this on ao3 tomorrow ig. also, real enemy is giving fics a fucking title.

now you can also read this fic on ao3.

White, marble tiles are eaten up by his black, formal shoes, his movements a little hurried as he veers off another corner of this event hall, almost braining himself against the wall. He stops just at the right moment, curses his clumsiness, and continues walking down the empty hallway to the dressing room. Everyone else is already in the main hall, sitting on the chairs, and Stiles Stilinski was there only moments before, so he knows they're waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Except, his dad is getting cold-feet, and despite Scott's attempts at being normal around his soon-to-be stepfather, and being a shoulder to lean on, the cold-feet is getting worse. At least, that's what Derek texted him, a short, concise depiction of whatever the hell must be happening in the dressing room.

And he trusts the Alpha, so he's quick in his steps and quicker with his breaths when he does open up the door and finds his dad pacing around the decently-sized room, his suit on, and complemented by a look of absolute panic on his face.

Scott is standing off to the side, like he always seems to be these days, and he's on the opposite side of Derek, far from him, like he always was and always will be. Some people don't change, and Stiles has learned that through experience he would rather not repeat.

"Dad," Stiles says, and that's all it takes for the dam to break. His dad gives a quick glance to Scott, his once-favorite son, and then pulls both Stiles and Derek towards him, his hands a little sweaty with dread. His dad knows being close and talking low wouldn't make a difference, but it's the principle of the thing, and for one split second he wonders what 16 year old him would have thought of this fact, of Derek being his dad's chosen son, and him himself being this close to his dad. And Scott not even being privy to the beauty of this relationship.

"What if she doesn't want me to? I love Melissa, I do, but Claudia- I don't know. I had a dream yesterday, Stiles, and she was just, she was just there! Just sitting on the beach, where I proposed to Melissa, right where Melissa was sitting. Was that, like, one of your supernatural dreams? Derek, you must know something about these sort of things. I don't think she wants me to—"

Derek cuts him off with a firm, "She wants nothing but happiness for you." He gives Stiles a quick look, asking silently if this is okay, because out of the four people in this room he's the only who didn't actually know her when she was alive. Stiles nods, and Derek continues, and his dad hangs onto every word out of Derek's mouth. "Today is a big day for you, and you're nervous, and it's okay, John. That dream was just a way for your subconscious to show up — this isn't the first time you've had this thought, have you?"

"No."

"That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Just your nerves."

Stiles smiles softly at his dad. "Mom loves you," he moves forward to bring his dad in for a patented Stilinski hug. His voice is muffled when he insists, "She loved you when she was beside you, and she loves you now that she's watching over you. And she loves Melissa, too. I know she'll be the one smiling the biggest when you say 'I Do,' today."

His dad holds on for a little longer, and Stiles knows he's holding back tears when his dad says, "Okay," with a rough voice. He pulls back, takes a deep breath, pats Stiles on the shoulder twice, the way he always does, and gives a wobbly smile to Derek. He says, "Thanks, son," to both of them before looking at himself in the mirror.

"You look amazing."

"I'm so glad Lydia's mom was able to modify your original suit into this," Stiles adds to Derek's compliment, and Derek nods, repeats the sentiment of his dad looking amazing.

Scott chimes in, too, and his dad gives him a small smile. The relationship with him is strained, and if it was any other day Scott wouldn't even be in Beacon Hills, but it's his mom's wedding day, too. Stiles allows this one day, and if he didn't, he can't really stop Scott from being here. This is his hometown, too. They have their differences, yes, but they also have a past, together and also not, stemming from this same town.

Stiles has no right to where Scott does or does not go.

Derek, on the flip side, with his red eyes and ancestral blood running through his veins, roots sprouting from this town's soil, has no such qualms. Derek and Scott share a past, too, and it defines their present more than anything else could have.

Stiles' dad says he'll be out in just a minute, can they wait outside please, and all three of them step out. Once the door is closed, Derek turns to Scott.

"When are you leaving?"

Scott is instantly angry. He has always hated Derek, no matter the truth. Logic was always Stiles' friend first and Scott's second, and without Stiles, Scott is just a ball of emotions being hit by the bat of daddy and authoritative issues.

Derek has a right to know. It is his prerogative. This is his land, his territory, his packmate's wedding. Scott was banished — run off, really, and now he's back. Derek has a right to know when he'll leave, irrespective of Scott's hesitation to tell him.

But, the years have done Scott good. Instead of yelling, making a scene, he takes a breath in. Stiles wonders what or who his anchor is, and promptly decides it's not something he cares to know. He watches Scott get himself under control, enough that when he speaks his voice is almost emotionless.

All or nothing. That was what Scott was, and still is. He's changed, but not really.

"Mom leaves for her honeymoon tomorrow, and I need to take stuff from home."

Derek raises his right eyebrow. "That's not an answer."

Scott gives a tight smile. "It is if you just learn to stop when you should."

Before Derek can say anything, Stiles is taking the two steps to stand right beside his Alpha, disbelief coloring his face and words as he lets out, "Are you seriously threatening him?"

Scott just looks at him. The look is unreadable. It hurts, this distance between them, when Stiles remembers fantasizing about being not two feet apart on a porch in their late, late years, drinking to the years and cheers they must have had in their shared lives. Derek shakes him out of that thought with a gentle touch to his hand, their arms trapped between their bodies, and he relaxes.

Derek looks at Scott. His eyes turn red, brilliant red, and he orders, "Leave by Wednesday afternoon."

Today is Sunday.

And his dad's wedding day. His dad, who chooses this moment to come out, looking much better, and happier, and assured. He looks at the scene in front of him, the three of them, Scott on one side, alone. Him and Derek, side by side, on the opposite side of Scott.

He claps his hands.

"Who is ready to cry today?"

They all cry.

The ceremony is simple, but beautiful. The whole town is here, the wedding off their Sheriff, and the nurse who is so lovely, so kind. They are an inspiration, they all murmur, Derek tells him; second chances at love are rare, and this is beautiful, and who knew there exists beauty in the depths of tragedy?

His dad cries when he watches Melissa come down the aisle, Ms. Martin on one side and Scott on the other. Her best friend and her son, and for once, Stiles doesn't mind Scott's presence.

Melissa is smiling, eye to eye, her wedding gown fitting her perfectly.

She stands in front of his dad and says, "Oh, John," with such reverence, it's hard to not cry. Stiles has to put his hand in front of his mouth, but it's futile. Derek, the jerk, repeats those words, the ones he is hearing from every corner of the hall, and by the time Stiles has a dad and a stepmom officially, he's crying happy tears.

Lydia hugs him and tells him now it's his turn to find her mom somebody, too, and he agrees, only half-listening to her. He's staring at the big, gigantic grin on his dad's face, a matching one on Melissa.

Everyone congratulates him and the newlyweds, and then it's food and chatter and toasts, and everyone is surprised when Derek gives the first toast instead of Stiles, and Scott is supposedly not giving one at all.

Derek's toast is short, but no less lovely. He calls John a great man, one with utmost patience, and of course Derek would find a way to make a dig at Stiles; he says he has no clue how John and Claudia had strength enough to be patient with Stiles around, and that perhaps it is that tenacity, that will, that has brought about the proceedings of today. Of not giving up, even when the world is stacked against you. Of staying strong, in the face of everything falling apart. Of falling apart but coming back stronger, steadier. Of finding love after all of that. And coming from Derek, of all people, it means a whole lot, and Stiles' dad hugs Derek post-speech tightly.

When they pull apart, Derek says into the mic, but with eyes on Stiles' dad, "She's just as proud of you as Stiles is. As I am."

And then it's his turn to give a toast, and he's not sure how he can outdo Derek; as he stands up in front of the mic, he realizes he doesn't want to.

He gives a few funny anecdotes of his childhood, of how his dad taught him to always have hope, because good people get good things, even if it takes long. And how Melissa was always there, a second mom to him right from the start, and how much he loves her and is glad she's still in his life, despite the years, despite the circumstances. The crowd gets intrigued at that, aware of the distance between Scott and his mom, and Stiles too; all of Beacon Hills knows about the rift, but only a hand few know the cause of it as well. So, for him to mention the distance, to publicly acknowledge it, is a big thing.

He moves right the fuck on, makes jokes and smiles and cries, admits he'll always miss his mom, but that he'd always hoped, deep in his heart, that when the grief becomes tolerable he'd be the one to make the two of them marry each other.

"You got there first," he jokes, "Had the ring all picked out even before I could start trying to convince you to ask her out. Honestly, that might have been the second best decision you've ever made." None of them have to ask what the first was. It's obvious; Stiles knows his mom's wedding ring sits inside his dad's shirt, on a necklace, his own beside it.

Melissa gives a toast, too. She reminisces the first time she met Claudia, how they became friends, and how, at the time, it was impossible to imagine a life without her.

Before her little speech, to everyone this was her and John's day, but it's clear to them now that it's not just that. To the newlyweds it's a promise to Claudia; Melissa's once best friend and his dad's first love. To be happy. To live.

There's more hugs, more cheers, the champagne popping, and a quick, impromptu speech by Scott, who was fuming at being outdone like this by not just Stiles, but also Derek.

His speech is not bad, per se. Angry jerks of his chin, wild eyes and noticeable pauses. It's not bad. It just looks bad in comparison.

Stiles will definitely rot in hell for finding this funny, but at least he won't be the only one. The whole pack is trying not to laugh, and Stiles has to hide his own in the lapels of Derek's suit, who in turn hides his laughter in Stiles' hair.

Stiles feels bad, once or twice. But Scott made his bed and he's lying on it.

And then, after that, there's the first dance. There's the open dance floor and little kids asking Derek sweetly if he'll dance with them. He's their favorite, and it's adorable, and Stiles takes a thousand pictures.

Derek is in a sharp suit, and the juxtaposition of him dancing with young children, in princess dresses and printed suits — one kid had a yellow, minion-print suit, and honestly, that kid, Darren, pulled it off well — all colorful to his black shirt, black blazer, and black pants, is just so...

Good.

Derek's whole face is lit up, the golden glow of the lights all around them putting him in an ethereal spotlight, his eyes soft, mouth curved up, and nose adorably scrunched as he tries to decipher the babbling of a two-year-old.

The mom of the kid comes to get the boy, profusely apologizing, but Derek just smiles and says it's okay. It was no issue, it's okay, no need to apologize at all.

"Right," she says, eyes flicking between Derek and Stiles. "I'll let you get back to your partner then." And it's clear she means him.

Derek doesn't correct her, and neither does he. She leaves, and in this corner of the room, it's just them now. Most kids are tired, now, and most guests have left. It's mostly just the closest friends of Melissa and his dad, and the pack, of course, who are here.

Derek turns to him, his eyes still soft, which somehow get more soft when he looks at Stiles. It takes his breath away, and he lets out a squeaky, "Let's dance?" He's almost 25, the "adult" age according to the internet, and he still acts like a high school kid with a fucking crush.

Derek just makes him feel that way.

Derek, who is going to be 30 in less than a week, the big decade, the big, bad wolf. Derek, who blushes, his cheeks pinkish red behind his stubbled face, and puts out a hand.

Stiles takes the offered hand, his heart dancing inside his ribcage. And onto the stage they go, to the applause of the pack, and his dad's, "Finally!"

Stiles blushes, too. It's just their luck to get on the floor when it's a slow dance song.

Derek wastes no time, like he can't think or he'll explode, and puts his left hand on Stiles' waist, his right on Stiles' shoulder. Stiles puts both his hands around Derek's neck, and the alpha leans into the touch. This, the blatant trust, the welcomeness of it, is what bolsters Stiles.

They move to the slow beat, their eyes on each other's like white on rice, and everything else just doesn't exist. It's just them, and only them. No one else exists, not when they do, this close.

They move closer still, their hips touching, their foreheads against each other's. Noses touching close.

"Hey," he says, and grins when Derek does.

"Hey," Derek says back, so close that Stiles feels in his bones the word shape itself in Derek's mouth.

The music changes, then, and Stiles recognizes this one from the very first beat of it. Of course he does. It's Derek's favorite song ever.

"Did you bribe the DJ to play Apocalypse?"

Derek laughs, a quick, short one, and Stiles watches the movement of it, the beauty of Derek Hale laughing. "What if I did?"

Before Stiles can say anything, the line, "kisses on the forehead of lovers," comes on, and Derek takes a step back, only to kiss Stiles on the forehead.

Stiles' breath stops in his throat. Derek closes the gap between them again, and sways them to the beat. Stiles just follows his lead, his face having stuck itself on an astonished smile, and by the time the song is over he's just hugging Derek, tight, close, forever and ever and ever close.

Derek hums the song right in his ear, and it's perfect, Derek's breath on him, his grip, his eyes on him.

Stiles takes a step back and just looks into Derek's eyes.

"Hey," Derek says softly. They don't need words. Just this, a moment to themselves, where nothing but them exists.

Stiles doesn't even have a clue what song is playing. All he hears is Derek. His unspoken trust and devotion, his soul half of Stiles', Stiles' own soul half of Derek's. Their mingling breaths, because they're still close, just a hair apart from being one.

"Hey," he repeats, and they're both moving forward, Derek's hands on Stiles' waist, his own around Derek's neck, and they kiss.

It's gentle and slow, like time doesn't exist, could never take from them, this moment infinite, their love defying the laws of the universe and stopping time.

Because this is it. This is love, theirs and theirs only, part of its definition somewhere in the noises Stiles is making, part of it in the way Derek is touching him, moving his hands around Stiles' body, up and down, up and down, caressing him close and closer still.

Because isn't that what love is? Finding meaning in another?

After what feels like a lifetime, Derek pulls back. "Your lips, my lips, apocalypse," Derek hums against his lips, and they're so close, one breath two beings close, Stiles feels the movement of Derek's lips against his.

He lets out a small laugh. Derek swallows it down with another kiss, this one urgent, and time stills, again. Nothing exists, but this, and this moment only. Them. Arms around one another, devouring lips, tight grip, closed eyes, and peace.

They pull apart, foreheads resting against each other's, and Stiles opens his eyes to Derek's soft gaze. On him, through him, for him. He smiles, takes Derek's hand in his, dislodging it from its previous position on Stiles' waist, and brings it up to kiss the open palm of this man, who is radiant in this moment, glowing, almost, with happiness.

"Best day ever," Derek says, and he hums only the tune this time, and this time, Stiles sings the lyrics.

"Your lips, my lips, apocalypse."

"We did think it would take, like, a severe life or death situation for you two to get your shit together."

The sudden reality of a third person existing, and slowly, the reality of them being in the middle of a public dance floor in front of people has them flinching and moving apart.

"Kind of glad that didn't actually occur," Lydia continues, unperturbed.

"Definitely glad," his dad agrees.

"I do prefer you two getting together on my wedding day instead of my ER room, actually." Melissa adds.

Derek and Stiles both stare at their pack — Lydia, grinning eye to eye, a wine glass in her hand. John and Melissa beside her, their hands clasped, laughing at Derek and Stiles' wide-eyed gaze. Isaac clicking a hundred pictures of them, Erica with her full-red lips and a plate filled with food. Boyd beside his wife, hand on her shoulder, and Jackson leaning against Danny, smirking at the two of them. Cora is looking at them, that Hale look of absolute mischief. Kira and Malia have probably gone home — and nope, here they come, with a...

"Is that a banner?" Derek asks, aghast, and Stiles is right there with him. Because that fucking banner reads STEREK WINS.

"What the fuck?"

Peter comes out from the shadows, and Stiles tries to be happy about the fact that his appearance surprised everyone else present too, not just him and Derek.

"Thanks for making me win the bet. Really appreciate the $5."

"Bet?!"

His dad answers his unasked question. "We all figured you two would get together sometime during our wedding. Maybe during or after. It was just a matter of when." He points to where Malia and Kira are putting the banner up, right beside the one that says, JUST MARRIED!!! "Most of us figured the week following today, but Peter, Lydia, and Kira are the only ones who doubled down on the day being today itself."

"We're going to share our anniversary!" Melissa exclaims, happy.

Derek and Stiles just stare.

Derek turns towards him. He cocks an eyebrow up. Stiles nods with quick movements of his head.

"We, uh, are gonna go," Stiles says to the hall at large. "Have fun with your... bet, I guess. Dad, Melissa, love you guys, the rest of you, fuck off." Everyone laughs.

"We'll talk about anniversary plans later, Melissa," Derek says, and Stiles finger guns at her before realizing how stupid it looks.

Luckily, Derek picks him up, fireman carry style, and swoops him away.

Stiles groans against Derek's back. "Doofuses. Serious doofuses."

"Us or them?"

Stiles thinks. "All of us," he decides. "All of us, Derek. How the fuck were we so stupid to wait so long to get together?" They don't need to really discuss it — the kiss was just a precursor. "And why the fuck do they have to be so... ugh."

"They're still laughing," Derek says, as if that would help. "Doofuses," he agrees.

And then they're in the Jeep, Derek's camaro probably to be taken home by Isaac, and they're alone and when Derek drops him gently on the seat, Stiles lunges up to kiss.

"You make me fucking feral," Derek admits against his lips, and hey, Stiles loves where this is going. "I love you."

The words are nothing, really, but an arbitrary combination of English lexicon. But there is a meaning it — so many touches, so many moments shared between the two of them. Time spent in presence or in thoughts. All of it, leading up to this. These three words that make Stiles giddy.

"I love you too, and we really were doofuses."

"Wanna be doofuses on my bed?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

Stiles speeds it out of the parking lot of the event hall, and they do, in fact, act like doofuses on Derek's bed.

They make-out, they throw down their clothes, and they pour out their hearts with every touch, every caress, every moan; they kiss and laugh and confess, touch and worship and love.

They map out each other's bodies and lean in, snuggle, and sleep.

If all apocalypses could be so lovely, it would be great, really.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fics #sheriff stilinski #melissa mccall #the hale pack 2.0 #ahhh spent like 15 mins trying to come up with a title and i give up #it's 3 am rn and i'm going to SLEEP #gotta wake up in like 5ish hours too aanxbsjshjs #bYE #sh.rambles #sh.writesonmain #hopefully y'all enjoy this weekend treat #i wrote this a good few weeks ago and so glad i found it in the piles of wip

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3cremepie3 · 2 years ago

Text

Be honest

Synopsis - Black female y/n! X Leona smut!

He convinces you to braid his hair but you can’t help but get distracted.

A/n - Yeah I black coded Leona and no one better have a problem with that.

Warnings - bribing, cussing, blood, financial hardships, objectification, violence, dominance loss, saliva, humilation

“Is this Y/n’s magical doo’s?” Leona laughed at your magicam handle over the phone. “Stop laughing unless you have a better name suggestion for me!” But yes this is her what do you want Leona?” You grumbled with sass. “That’s no way to talk to a future customer L/n.”

“Oop never mind what would you like done?” Even though he infuriated your spirit you needed money. Maybe you could finally fix your window which had a harsh draft blowing over you at night. Because of it, you were always sick. “How about you decide for me? I just need something with my hair out the way since we have a tournament coming up.”

“Oh shit you’re letting me freestyle,” you gleamed. “Don’t worry I won’t have you looking crazy.” Now about payment, I only take cash so have it prepared.” How much do you need?” Hmm since it’s you I’ll charge extra how about 120 thumarks.”

“Since it’s me?” He sounded offended over the line. “Wow I see how it is but I have no problem with your price.” Well then I’ll see you at 3 Leona in the Savannaclaw lobby.” Kay,” he agreed hanging up the phone.

“Grim after school do you wanna come with me to Savannaclaw?” Nope Leona’s still mad at me from last time.” Aww looks like I’m gonna have to do everything myself this time,” you sighed. Usually grim would hand you all your products and tools while you were braiding.

He worked diligently in return for tuna. “Someone’s gonna go hungry tonight then Grim.” I won’t be home to cook.” I’ll just go beg Kalim for food. I’m not going over end of story.” Grim walked further ahead of you not wanting to hear any more of your pleads.

The school day rolled around fast enough and your first appointment was up. “Your lucky I’m letting you touch me,” Vil added. “Thank you for lending me your head your highness,” you mocked him. “Just get it done already I have to be at set in an hour.”

You were in Pomifore one of your favorite dorms. The students there taught you plenty of hair tips which you were thankful for. But most importantly they were polite, clean, and well-paying customers. Unlike the beast in Savannaclaw whose hair was usually stinky and matted.

“All done!” You smiled at your creation. “Not a stray hair in sight well done Y/n.” Here is your pay and I hope this tip flows well for you.” A 50 thumark tip could have dinner covered for a couple of days. “Thank you so much, Vil this’ll help me and grim out for a while!”

Vil felt kinda bad for you. He had no idea y’all where that broke next time he’ll be sure to buy you a lunch pass instead of offering you a tip. As soon as his appointment was over you left heading directly to Savannaclaw.

The predators there didn’t treat you lightly ever since you called their whole dorm musty. One even tried to trip you as you walked through the lobby. “Do that stupid shit again nigga and you won’t have a foot to trip me with,” you warned.

“Nobody’s scared of your puny ass,” he spat. “Oh really,” you challenged. From his point of view, it looked like you were about to punch the daylights out of him. But you stopped just in time. “It looks like you flinched maybe someone is scared.”

“Whatever!” The beast-man stomped away from you. Others watched laughing at your boldness. A couple walked up to you amused with the whole ordeal. “Why was that hot,” one of them asked you. “I can’t see why how you’re finding this funny.”

“I think you need to relax lil mama,” they commented. “Yeah maybe you're right I was thinking of getting my pocket knife out and making him into a fur coat for a minute,” you remarked.

“And they call us beast,” they whispered. “Your funny wanna come to hang out in the game room with us?” Sure I have some time before my appointment.” How bout you skip that appointment and have some fun with us,” they smirked. “I made a promise and… I don’t like the way y’all are smiling.” You back away from their proximity.

You took a minute to use context clues. “Damn,” you hissed. “I’m not that kind of girl.” Yeah, that’s what they all say come on we won’t bite too hard. Unless you want us to you look like you like it rough.” Before he could say another word you slapped him. “I try to be civil and kind with y’all are all disrespectful lil boys.”

“Clearly your mama didn’t raise you right if you think it’s okay to talk about women like that.” Aye, don’t talk about my mama fool.” I’m gonna talk about her all I want!” How are you already beefing with my housemates you just got here,” Leona complained.

“Tell them to stop trying me please or it’s about to get active in here.” Let’s just go to the room,” he suggested. “Fine,” you huffed. “So that’s why you won’t fuck with us your already hopping on his dick,” one of them yelled. You could tell Leona was about to say something but you stepped in before him.

“Yup hoping, riding, and sucking.” I'd rather do any of that than ride that double dicking stick.” You realized what you had just said as a come back completely humiliated. “Let’s go, Leona,” you whimpered.

He tried his best to change the subject but you couldn’t stop thinking. “I look like I like it rough,” you repeated. “What does that even mean?” I don’t look like that right Leona,” you pondered. “I don’t wanna answer that.” Answer it please I’m begging you!

“No, you don’t look like that they judged you completely wrong.”They thought since you acted all tough that you could handle them all. But you probably couldn’t even take the tip of a real man.” He chuckled darkly to himself thinking he was the shit.

“I can so!” How’d you even know that you fucking Virgin,” he teased. “I- I… how did you even I was one!” It’s obvious the way you tense up with any slight touch.” You probably can’t even handle something as simple as this without getting wet.” Something as simple as what?” You asked before getting pushed against a wall. Leona looked down at you his eyes hungry while your knees buckled together.

“Not so tough now huh?” Fuck,” you cussed before pulling him in for a kiss. You heard shuffling nearby and broke apart from him. He pulled you into his room which you didn’t even notice you were next to. “We could’ve stayed in the halls I don’t mind PDA Y/n.”

“No that would mean that I’m fucking the enemy. Which I am… but I don’t want people to know that it would make me look hypocritical.” I promise you no one cares that much and they're probably gonna hear us anyways.” Cause there’s no way I’m gonna keep quiet in my territory.”

“You have no shame, Leona,” you huffed. “Yup none,” he smirked fondling your ass you spoke. “Especially when I have the chance of a lifetime.” Now tell me Y/n can I fuck you it’ll be worth your while I’ll even pay you extra.” But I can’t promise that I won’t be rough we carnivores naturally are.”

He proved what he was saying hosting you over his shoulder. He hurriedly took your pants and panties off throwing them wherever. You instantly regretted saying all that stuff about how you could handle it. Even now when he wasn’t touching you your legs were quivering together.

He didn’t spare you any pity pulling them apart to reveal your cunt. He spits a fat globe on it before moving to rub your clit. His hands were rough one squeezed your thigh while the other worked on warming you up. By now you should’ve been ready to take his fingers but you were too tense.

“Y/n you need to relax.” Why are you so shaky all of a sudden my claws aren’t out I won’t hurt you.” It’s not that Leona.” It’s just I imagined my first time to be different more romantic.”

“What do you want me to do for you,” he sighed. “Kiss me,” you begged. “This is the only time I’ll ask you for something after this I’ll take charge.” He agreed rising from in between your legs to capture your lips. “Thank you.” You muffled barely able to get out a word. Your lips sunk onto his and the rest of your body followed your hands flowed into his hair running through the soft locks.

You didn’t realize you had touched his ears until he hissed biting your lip out of reflex. “That’s the worse place to touch me doll. Unless you wanna get eaten.” You touched his ears again this time a full pat. “I wouldn't mind if you devour me.”

Once again he was in between your thighs this time nipping and sucking at them. You noticed his fangs leaking through every time he unlatched himself. You became fascinated with the way they just barely grazed you.

How would they feel deep into your skin? How would your skin look afterward? How primal could Leona get? Even though this wasn’t your mission you had to know. “Bite me, Leona.” Did I hear that correctly?” Yes, you did now please bite me I don’t care how bad it hurts I need to feel it at least once.”

“Okay then.” He licked a stripe up your thigh before biting down at your thigh his teeth were sharp and strong to the point where you bled a bit. He didn’t care just licking up the blood and continuing. Soon enough every corner of your thigh was covered in bite marks. A sight that was sexy to him since it showed possession. “Let’s see how you taste herbivore.”

His tongue dove into you feasting like the hungry man he was. He groaned satisfied with the juices spilling into his mouth. “So good,” he hummed flicking your clit before sucking on the bud. You gasped having something like this done to you for the first time.

“Your tongue- feels amazing,” you hissed. “How the hell are you so sensitive.” He pulled his tongue off of you and spat another glob onto your folds. This time it dropped to your fluttering hole which was begging for his fingers.

“Something you wanna ask doll?” Fuck… I hate you so much,” you sneered. “Just finger me already!” It was the first time something was so deep inside you. So it was only your instinct to squirm. Leona didn’t let up gripping you tighter and attacking your g spot. You began to see stars forming in your eyes.

“Leona… Leona, Leona,” you practically chanted. “That’s right baby girl keep calling my name.” You were growing increasingly wetter as he whispered in your ear. “Wanted this all along huh you couldn’t wait to show up and get fucked by me that’s why you looked so good today.”

“Not true!” You tried to say but your words couldn’t get out much. “Say what you want but this pussy tells me another story.” Look how it's gushing all over my fingers.” You looked down humiliated by how much of a mess you were making.

Your excess was dripping down Leona’s fingers and on the sheets below. “Just wait till you hop on my dick you’ll probably explode.” But you gotta cum first for that wanna cum Y/n?” Yes, wanna… need to!” His pace kept stalling. “Please let me Leona stop slowing down your pace.”

“Fine but only if you let me be in control the whole time.” Fine, I don’t care just hurry,” you whimpered. “Damn I guess you don’t care about volume anymore cause your loud as hell.”Just shut up!” You were about to cum he could tell by the way you gripped his arms your nails scratching like prey that was trying to fight him off. You looked so desperate like this tears pooling out of your eyes and drool falling out of your mouth.

But all good things come to an end. He had to stop before he overstimulated you. That he almost did as he fingered you through your high elongating your orgasm. You were quiet afterward your legs still shaking as he pulled his fingers out of your cunt.

“That was cute now remember what you promised me Y/n.” I remember just get to it.” You rushed him spreading your legs so he could get in between them. He pulled down his sweats revealing his heavy dick. “Damn,” you gasped. “Like what you see?” No… I don’t think it’ll fit,” you quivered.

“I’ll make it fit.” He lined up at your entrance collecting your essence before gliding himself in. Your body tensed with the stretch not used to something so thick entering you. “You’re bleeding.” He pointed out the small amount of blood dripping out of you.

“Just hurry up and put it in,” you cried. He pushed himself in further grunting at your tightness. “Fuck you’re gonna milk me dry.” For a minute he was only focused on the way he felt. You were so warm gripping down in him like a vice. “You’re the best hole I’ve ever had.”

“Damn Im gonna buss soon.” What about you Y/n?” He looked down to see a pillow over your face. He pulled it away from you and you turned your head to the side. His free hand that wasn’t griping at your waist turned your tear-filled face towards his.

“Yeah, you definitely couldn’t handle it.” He laughed in your face.” Fuck you- mmph,” you tried to protest. But his lips smothered over you in a reassuring kiss. His hips stilled as he only focused on your mouth. The kiss was long knocking the air out of your lungs.

He wouldn’t let up even when your hands tangled through his mane. “Can’t breathe!” Finally, he untangled his tongue with yours. You blanked away the black dots still feeling light-headed. “Don’t hide how you feel it only leads to more problems down the line.”

He kissed down your neck before thrusting into you. Only this time you were able to take him. “You okay,” he checked. “Yeah,” you moaned. “I’m gonna move.” Your hand wrapped in his encasing his body even more with yours. You could feel his abs rub against your stomach. Fuck he was fine especially when his eyes were glazing into yours.

You watched his every move. His ears twitched his tail swayed before wrapping around one of your legs. His smirk fell now he looked deadly serious as he tried not to already cum all inside you. As much as he tried to hide his claws they still marked your waist. You couldn’t get enough your legs wrapped around his tone torso. He thrusted faster trying to get you to finish before him. “Damn how are you so wet?” Fuck I’m gonna cum. Come on let me do it inside it’s too late to pull out right now.”

“Fine!” You felt amazing to his thick cock opening new pleasure you’d never thought you’d ever see. Your toes curled as he hurled inside you faster. His pace was rough you could feel his heavy balls slap against you. Now he was drawing blood from you again with his harsh bites.

“Hurts so good,” you cried. “You’re a goddamn Masochist you’ll probably like this then.” He wrapped his hand around your throat choking you until you creamed all around him. With another thrust, he followed flooding your hole while you shook around him.

He pulled out collapsing next to you. You were the little spoon. “I’ll clean us up later for now sleep that was probably a lot for you.” Betraying my morals felt really good,” you chimed.

“But promise me one thing before I drift off Leona.” Huh, Y/n?” That you won’t go around saying I can’t handle it cause you couldn’t even handle 3 minutes of my pussy.” I can’t disagree with you on that.” But I recalled you crying and I wasn’t even inside you all the way.”

“It’s different you were my first time!” Let’s just not count it this time it was just a warm-up.” I’ll agree with you next week we’re on for round two.” I’ll beat that pussy up.” Not before I milk you dry!

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darlingpwease · 1 year ago

Note

It would be funny if the system did allow reader to become Shang Qinghua disciple and make him a father figure to them as a little treat for being the author.

Shang Qinghua would be a father who will spoil reader. Bonus points reader knows some memes because Shang Qinghua taught them.

Reader probably doesn’t take him seriously at times but is protective of him.

Reader: He may be an idiot but he’s my idiot.

Shen Yuan is probably smacking his fan at Shang Qinghua for this (or perhaps he’s jealous because reader won’t be his disciple like he expected)

shang qinghua is my lil meow meow<33 deserves to be called daddy tbh he is the author after all /hj /affectionate

creator's favourite<3

reader: wow hehe silly guy who thinks he's my dad... I love it in shifus.

♡ unhealthy behaviour, pet names, mention of violence, adoptive family themes, parent/child dynamic (and some pinning from shen yuan but you can treat it as you want); drabble + headcanons

But more seriously, SHANG QINGHUA actually looks like someone who will be a good father to his cute little darling sweetest summer baby boo that he sometimes just wants to put in a box and shake or put in the palm of his hand and watch with wet eyes, trembling.

He was doing research... And it's normal for men to get carried away with cute things... And gosh — who can say that you are his favorite character and no one can be your fan even more than he is?

(one may try to compete, but he prefers to ignore the existence of Cucumber Bro, although he admits that in some things he has a taste, especially with this cute art, similar to how he represented you, as his pfp.)

(he also puts your art on his pfp, because no one else can be your big fan.)

It's not that you are described in any way at all or look especially against the background of other characters — apart from the fact that he may be too self-indulgent when he describes you as candy for eyes whenever you appear, as if you are a character from a much better story, but what can he do??? — and your backstory may look like one of those that he created for a long time and thoughtfully, as if connecting the pieces of a puzzle, putting his mind, heart and hours into you that he could have spent sleeping instead, but!

He doesn't regret it.

Even in the morning, when he slept for only two or three hours, he does not regret that for just a few hours he said to himself, "it's okay, it's okay, just a couple more words and that's it..."

Every author should have two favorite characters in the story — one whom he wants to associate with himself (or next to whom he wants to associate) and one whom he wants to wrap in a blanket, put on his chest, kiss on the forehead and saying that they are gorgeous and beautiful. After all, for the audience, he has a beautiful cold cultivator and a fateful passionate demoness, so he can have his beautiful cold demon and his charming bright cultivator, right?

Perhaps you are not part of Binghe's harem (not his cutie!!! too precious!!! his baby can't be part of something like that!!!) and such a detailed study, which is hidden behind your description, does not make much sense, but it makes him happy, especially when he can introduce you to the narrative, briefly describe or invent what you can say. His cute little meow meow, who is Luo Binghe's senior fellow disciple under Shen Qingqiu's care (no you don't need that character development where you experience bullying!!! he has the right to be delusional in his works!!!), and tries to do something to the best of your ability, even if there is little you can really help...

... You die in a battle against demons. Although in his drafts a plan of how you actually survived, it was also not very pleasant for him to write this scene, even if it was pleasant to describe an emotionally strong reaction, — and subsequent plans for revenge and murder also had some therapeutic effect, — but no, brother Cucumber, he does not feel any pleasant feelings at all from having killed his pet! And he is not at all happy that he killed the only worthy character!!

And your death was not at all predictable because of how pure and catchy you were!!!

"... Maybe a little delusional after all," SHANG QINGHUA thinks when looks at you. Small, with a straight back and an indefinite peak, although he knows that you will become a member of another peak, and this realization for the first time causes him damage to such an extent that he wants to cough up blood. He just wants to get on knees, hug you and shake, but instead can only watch — and when the System says that he can get you as his disciple, since he has already become the head of the peak?

Yes, your participation in the plot is important, but not to this exte–

Not a word more — he doesn't hesitate for a second!

SHANG QINGHUA treats you like a mother hen with an egg, wanting to just constantly take you in arms and kiss cheeks like a proud father, and for sure he has... moments where you allow yourself some tenderness because of which he falls to the ground, covering face, as if you killed him with charm, while you look down on him — at first frowning and worried, then you just pull him up yourself.

At some point, you even begin to like it; one day you even allow yourself to call him 'father' — but when he almost has a deviation of qi from what you call him, you never do it again, even if now he definitely desperately wants to hear it again. But — no way; how will you explain to the head of Qian Cao Peak why your father shifu looks like this? It would be extremely embarrassing, especially if you still had to drag him.

No.

Never.

(you still unwittingly unconsciously call him that several times, though — and each time SHANG QINGHUA understands that if he dies right now, he will die happy.)

Your backstory is definitely the story of an orphan or an abandoned child, even if it has some noble origin, and it's hard to deny that being immediately in the adoring and pampering presence of the head of An Ding Peak, who deals with all economic affairs and supplies in the sect, being literally the peak of logistics, is a little overwhelming... at first. Someone may view An Ding Peak as useless or meaningless, but when all the supply, procurement, economic transactions are circulating around one peak, and this is not something secret...

... can't your loveable father afford to pamper his beloved child?

You were such a sweet and smart disciple who always follows him (at his request, but you could also theoretically disobey him, so he should reward you anyway!), how can SHANG QINGHUA not try to make you smile and be spoiled?

He knows how bad life was for you, he described it all himself, so he only makes amends to you, even if you definitely do not know because of whom in some sense you had such a past, but only look at him as a parental figure who is always ready to help, protect and pamper you. SHANG QINGHUA always brings your favorite food (which you share! wow! this is definitely fate!), gives you the best, sometimes even unparalleled, clothes or things of the best quality — and never neglects you, as if your very presence activates in him all this incomprehensible desire to protect and adore you.

Does he spoil you too much?... Yes — but you forget one fact: he is also the proud father of one little sweet celestial whom he wrote especially for himself and now can shamelessly love them! Period!

Perhaps the only thing SHANG QINGHUA violently opposes is your fights with anyone, even if you are a head disciple and a member of a sect that, in addition to the economy, is often forced to deal with the dirtier and borderline gray or obviously black things common in the world of cultivators, — but SHANG QINGHUA knows that the sect will be destroyed much earlier what will you become the head... so what's stopping the two of you from just living your life together? Somewhere in a house near the city or in a small but rich city, where you can spend your life in a carefree and moderate pace until old age next to him, needing nothing and never shedding tears... a small pond for you or a garden where you can grow whatever you want, or a place where you will raise small or not-so-small animals...

SHANG QINGHUA is not the most active or aggressive person, he does not seek to expand influence at all, as the original owner of the body did, but when he gently combs your hair, looking at your straight back, he understands that this is impossible if he wants you to survive. Yes, he described that you 'didn't die' and even put forward several ideas about what happened to you after, but now, looking at you, none of them suits him. Why should you suffer? Isn't what was in the original novel enough for you? Don't you deserve to live in comfort and safety?

He is your father — not in the biological sense, but in a much more important way, in both of his lives, and it is natural that your future falls on his shoulders, since he has made the past for you and takes care of you in the present. He would prefer a calm, trouble-free life with the flow, but when SHANG QINGHUA looks at you rejoicing at his gifts as if for the first time or trying to take part of his responsibilities and difficulties to help, how can he think only of himself?

Maybe that's why he's here — to make you happy and make sure you'll never be sad again. After all, SHANG QINGHUA gave you his soul, so it's natural that he could even overcome reality itself and time to be there — and if you think about it like that, then everything falls into place!

His ability to take you as his disciple and almost-child, his need to pamper you, his adoration...

“Shifu?...”

He loves you so much that his heart bursting.

“Shifu, why are you lying down again???”

Papa will protect you.

Shen Yuan really tries not to get angry, but when he sees SHANG QINGHUA shamelessly purring and spoiling you, clearly mocking him about the fact that you love him as your 'dad' shifu, the desire to hit becomes much stronger.

It's not fair, okay? After all, you were originally supposed to be his disciple; that's why he called you, wanting to see his beloved spousefu character — only to find out that you are not his disciple. Perhaps it was then that he realized that something was wrong — just as SHANG QINGHUA understood it, who later heard at a secret meeting that Shen Qingqiu, who woke up after a fever, asked about you for some reason, thinking that you were his disciple, and was amazed when he was confirmed several times that no, this is not so, you are a disciple of another peak.

A disciple of another peak? No, it's– no, it's possible, but unlikely. Since Luo Binghe is already studying at the peak, then at about this age he should already have had a connection with you, right? It's strange if the semblance of 'white moonlight' for the protagonist still did not exist at the peak, although your first meetings probably should have already happened. Isn't that about when that meeting should take place where you save him from mockery by appearing in time as a 'famous young phoenix under the guidance of Shen Qingqiu' and saying your cool speech?

Isn't that when you first demonstrate yourself as a domineering and self-aware beauty, but also able to be modest? Where your 'presence alone is enough for everyone to immediately disperse, let alone look or words'? Where were you still an unblemished white lotus that made Luo Binghe take an example from you, whose gait was 'as silent and graceful as leaves dancing in tandem with a wandering wind in a silent bamboo forest' and 'voice similar at the same time to the purring of a well-fed tiger inspecting their mountain in search of the next prey to playfully tear it apart' and 'like the first gentle snow showering everything around like a blanket, covering and forcing all living things to be silent and heed the serenity and greatness'?

These were some of his favorite scenes, excerpts from which he regularly reread and kept screenshots in the "favorite" in the phone gallery!

Where?!

"Someone remembers," SHANG QINGHUA thinks, rubbing his nose after sneezing — and smiles affectionately when you carefully throw a cape over him before returning to his business next to him, deliberately ignoring shifu's loving gaze. You really are a hardworking little thing, aren't you? Of course, what his child should be like; although not at all like your daddy, but you still take great care of him, even if you don't give him some expensive gifts and don't try to physically serve, unlike him. But he likes it — to take care of you, pamper you, try to accustom you to his culture and jokes, teach you some things that later become 'internal' and are not familiar to anyone else.

... Almost no one else is familiar with them.

“You yourself know they were supposed to be my disciple.”

“... The author has the right to make changes to the work.”

Shen Jiu– No, Cucumber Bro looks up at him because of the slight difference in height, and there is such obvious discontent and irritation in his eyes that SHANG QINGHUA is sure: if it were real, acid would dissolve him right now so that the earth would open up and swallow what would remain of his body.

“Don't you think that such an intervention will have consequences?”

What are the consequences? That you can't pamper them now and take advantage of their care like I do?

“Are you jealous that they call me 'baba' and not you?”

Shen Yuan still hits him with a fan from the heart, but does not answer anything — and SHANG QINGHUA does not dare to continue teasing or pressing button, even seeing how annoyed he is, not wanting to admit that yes, damn it, he is angry that his favorite character, the thought of which caused and causes euphoria, got not him, but SHANG QINGHUA.

“Stfu.”

You don't really call him ''baba' — but if you did, his heart would immediately stop and there would be a serious deviation of qi.

... Hmm...

He definitely found something with which he will pester you now — and the way Shen Qingqiu looks with jealous irritation, clutching a fan in his hand, only adds to the situation of fire.

Even if you don't have the slightest understanding of what's going on.

#❖.my jewelry #🥮 — svsss #✉.shang qinghua #✉.shen yuan #🧸.parental #🧸.yandere au #if you squint<3 #shang qinghua headcanons #gender neutral reader #yandere character

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