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honnelander · 1 month ago

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go fish! finale part 1

here we are... the beginning of the end! crazy to say, even crazier to actually put in a post!! lol here is part 1 of the finale (sorry i'm splitting up the finale into parts but... it's going to be so massive i'd rather put something out there) thank you to everyone who has loved this story, supported it, and supported me. just know that i appreciate it all more than you know, and i hope that this delivers... sorry if i missed anyone who wanted to be tagged :(

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.3k

pairing: opla!sanji x reader

summary: things are finally coming to a crux for Sanji and reader....

prequel part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist

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Sanji was getting desperate.

The longer he went without telling you he loved you, that he was completely enamored with every part of your entire soul and being, that your existence gave him a reason to live and keep on breathing, the more he felt himself go absolutely insane.

He felt like a little kid on Christmas morning, sitting in front a mountain of presents but not being able to open them because it ‘wasn’t time to open them yet’, and that’s exactly how he felt with his situation with you: there was nothing more he wanted to do than to tell you he was in love with you, but he knew that it wasn’t the right time just yet. He didn’t want to just flat out say ‘I love you’ while you both were doing some rudimentary task or chore, or offhandedly one night while you both were doing the dishes after supper. He wanted something more than that, something special and extravagant.

You were the love of his life, and you deserved everything under the sun and more, so he wanted to make this very intimate and private moment between you two as special as he could, and that required some serious planning and patience on his part.

So, after his conversation with Nami a few days ago, her letting him vent out all of his frustrations and apprehensions he had with her, practicing saying those three special words numerous times so when the moment was right with you, they would just roll off the tongue, and some planning, he was ready to confess his feelings to you.

But something was wrong.

You were avoiding him and he had absolutely no idea why.

At first, he thought he was imagining things, that it was all in his head, but he should’ve known something was up when you didn’t come to dinner the first night.

Sanji had finished putting the last plate of food on the table, the rest of the crew already sitting down, ready to dig in, when he cast another glance at your empty spot at the table. It was weird, you were always the first one to show up to dinner too, always arriving early to lend him a helping hand or to help set up the table, and you were always the last one to leave, either due to being a slow eater or to help him clean up and do the dishes together. The unofficial dinner time routine you both shared was something he cherished and never took for granted; it was his favorite part of the day because he knew he always got to spend that time with you regardless of the day’s events.

But that daily routine had been broken. That first night, which was coincidentally on the same day where he had his big talk with Nami, you were missing, and it didn’t sit right with him.

“Where’s y/n?�� He asked aloud to no one in particular, still standing, one hand on the back of his chair and a perplexed look on his face.

“Oh, she’s not coming,” Luffy said casually as he started eating, like you missing dinner was a normal thing.

It was, in fact, not normal. Not to Sanji. “What?” he asked, his eyes widening slightly. “Why? Is she ok?” he asked quickly, his mind starting to race at the idea that something was wrong with you.

“I guess so,” Luffy said, shrugging. “She seemed fine to me.”

Sanji exhaled a resigning sigh through his nose as he begrudgingly sat down. He didn’t really like Luffy’s answer, since the guy had a habit of missing important social nuances in conversations, but he had no choice. So, he ate his dinner halfheartedly, suddenly losing his appetite.

After dinner, when he was cleaning up the kitchen solo, he made sure to put together a plate of leftovers for you and placed it in the oven so it would be warm for whenever you were ready to eat.

But the next morning, when he checked the oven and saw the now overcooked and burnt plate of food still in there, untouched, Sanji felt his chest tighten... and not in a good way. Maybe you didn’t know the food was in there?

So, when you didn’t show up to dinner on the second night, Sanji followed the same routine as he did the night before, but this time he left a note on the counter with your name on it, detailing instructions on how to reheat the food he had lovingly prepared for you so it wouldn’t burn just in case you were having a midnight meal.

That following morning, he felt a bit better when he went into the kitchen, figuring that his plan worked, but when he saw his note in the exact same position where he had left it, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. His suspicions were confirmed when he opened the oven door and saw the now cold and ruined plate of leftovers just sitting there again, untouched, he let out a small breath of disbelief.

He hated wasting food, it was one of his core principles as a person and a chef, but he hated the thought of you not eating even more.

On the third night of you not showing up to dinner, Sanji had enough.

“Alright, where is she?” he asked standing before the dinner table holding the main dish of the evening, not moving to put it down, his voice devoted of his usual good humor and pleasant attitude and replaced with a sterner tone, like a parent who’s had enough of their child’s antics and just wanted the truth. “Where’s y/n?”

Unfortunately, Zoro was the one to speak up. “She’s fine.”

Sanji scoffed, letting out a humorless, disbelieving breath as he shook his head once. He could barely believe what he was hearing- that you missing dinner more than once was anything but normal. “Oh, really, mosshead? ‘She’s fine’?” He looked back at the swordsman, an edge to his voice, sharp like one of his many kitchen knives, as he asked, “You think her missing dinner for three nights in a row is her ‘being fine’?”

“Whoa, keep your pants on, waiter,” Zoro bit back. “I’m just telling you what she told me. What’s your problem?”

“My problem,” the chef started, his voice rising slightly as his mouth twisted into a cynical smile, “is that y/n has missed dinner for three days now, and none of you seem to care.”

“Hey, that’s not fair, we care!” Usopp said defensively. “But ever since she started writing her book, she’s been so busy-”

In hearing that, Sanji immediately felt all of his anger and annoyance evaporate, instantly feeling empty, his insides turning into ice. He felt his body go rigid, feeling like he just got kicked in the stomach, the air knocked out of his lungs. A beat passed as he tried his hardest to control his face and contain his emotions. The last thing he wanted was the crew commenting on his body language, he was already dealing with enough. His hands gripped the dish in his hand harder, his knuckles going white. Sanji felt another wave of pain stab itself in his chest. He swallowed thickly, trying to push down his emotions as he slowly asked, “She’s... writing a book?”

At once, the room became awkward as the rest of the straw hats exchanged looks with each other. It was pretty obvious to everyone that you and Sanji were close to (in love with) each other, so for you not to tell him something as monumental as this was incredibly weird and out of character.

“Yeah, man...” Usopp answered slowly, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. “She started it a couple of days ago... she didn’t tell you?” he asked tentatively, looking up at the crestfallen cook.

Sanji felt the knife in his chest twist at Usopp’s question as he looked down at the dinner plate in his hands, pursing his lips momentarily. “Uh... no. No, she, uh...didn’t.” He breathed out a light, dejected laugh, looking back up at the rest of the crew with a small, fake smile, trying to pretend that everything was alright and normal between you two, when it was far from it. “I guess she forgot to tell me.”

But Zoro was never one to beat around the bush. “Or maybe she’s just avoiding you.”

Immediately, the room became silent. It was like all the air got sucked out of the room and no one dared to say a thing.

Well, except for Luffy. “What?” the straw-hat captain started, shaking his head once with a slight disbelieving smile. “What do you mean Zoro?” he asked as he looked to his left at his first mate. “Why would y/n be avoiding Sanji?”

"Well,” Zoro started, picking up his drink. “It’s pretty obvious that those two are basically joined at the hip,” he said, taking a quick swing of his beer, “so it’s just weird that she wouldn’t tell him something like this.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she’s avoiding him exactly,” Nami reasoned on Sanji’s behalf, flashing a sympathetic look towards the chef before looking back at her green-haired crewmate.

“Exactly,” the cook nearly ground out, an edge to his words as he continued, “you have no idea what you’re talking about mosshead.”

But Zoro was unconvinced. “Oh yeah?” He turned his attention to Sanji and with a quirked brow asked, “When’s the last time you spoke to her?” When Sanji opened his mouth to reply, Zoro cut him off. “And I mean a real conversation. Something that lasted more than five seconds.”

Sanji just stood there, closing his mouth as he felt the ice in his veins spread. He swallowed. “Thursday.”

The swordsman tipped his beer towards him. “And today’s Sunday,” he said in a matter-of-fact way. “That’s three whole days of her avoiding you.”

“Ok but, why would y/n be avoiding Sanji?” Usopp asked, looking around at his fellow straw hats, his face twisted in confusion. When nearly all of them shrugged, he looked over at Sanji. “Did something happen between you two?”

The former line cook shrugged, letting out a small breath of frustration and helplessness as he looked down at the full plate in his hands again, a sardonic smile on his face. Since when did his private relationship with you turn into an open aired discussion? “I don’t think that’s any of your business-”

“Wait,” Zoro spoke up, cutting Sanji off. He looked at Usopp. “They were weird before. Remember that poker game the other day and she blew him off?”

Immediately, Usopp’s eyes widened in remembrance as he snapped his fingers. “OH yeah! You’re right! Now that was weird.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it all,” Zoro said, lifting his beer up to his mouth to hide his ghost of a smile. “I think this all started happening after that night at the bar.”

“Yeahhhh,” Usopp drawled, nodding in agreement with Zoro’s assessment. “I think you’re onto something swordsman.” He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze looking off to the side like he was deep in thought. “I don’t remember much from that night, because you know, Captain Usopp likes to party, but weren’t they going to kiss or something?”

Nami’s eyes widened as she shot daggers at the sharpshooter. “Usopp!” she hissed.

But that did nothing to deter or shut this whole conversation down. Instead, Usopp’s brazen comment just fueled the discussion even more like striking a match and dropping into a bunch of dry kindling.

Sanji felt his body stiffen. He suddenly felt like his soul was disassociating from his body as he watched and heard the crew continue to talk about the most intimate moment of his life in front of him like it was just another successful pirate raid or rescue attempt gone wrong.

“Yeahhh,” Zoro agreed, nodding slightly as a sly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I remember that,” he added before taking another swing of his drink.

“Wait- what? Sanji and y/n kissed?” Luffy asked, his brows knitted together as he looked between his first mate and sharpshooter quizzically.

“No, they didn’t,” Usopp replied. Suddenly, Usopp sat up, his eyes bright like he had just solved the world’s greatest mystery. “Unless,” he started, waggling a finger at Sanji. “Unless... you guys did kiss, never talked about it, and now it’s like- super weird between you two!”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Zoro commented.

“Guys,” Nami warned loudly. “Just drop it. You both have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But before anyone could say anything else, Sanji slammed dropped the main dish for the evening in the middle of the table unceremoniously, with a lot more force than necessary, immediately silencing the table.

“No, please continue,” Sanji bitterly encouraged as he straightened up and put his hands in his pockets, eyes trained at the table. “I would love for everyone to just- keep discussing a private relationship that has absolutely nothing to do with them, and to keep putting their two cents in.” When the table kept quiet, Sanji looked up, glancing at each of the members sitting there with eyes full of venom, daring them to say something else, but their eyes looked down or away from him in silent shame. Sanji scoffed. “Oh, what happened? Lost your nerve? Suddenly we’re all silent and have nothing to say?”

Usopp shifted in his chair slightly as he tentatively looked over at the enraged chef, his voice somber. “Sanji, we didn’t-”

But Sanji didn’t want to hear it. “Save it,” he spat, effectively silencing Usopp. “Enoy your fucking meal.” He shoved his chair into the table, causing everyone to flinch except for Zoro, rattling everything before making his way towards the deck to have a smoke. “And clean up everything yourselves tonight,” he called out as he pulled out his cigarette tin and lighter. “I’m done.”

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caraphernellie · 29 days ago

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ephemeral.

for your information: author!abby x editor!fem!reader. professionals with a very strained relationship. abby and reader drinking a little but completely coherent + sober still. haters-to-lovers, semi-public, outdoor sex. bratty!reader. fingering (r!receiving). steamy make out session. clichés ahead. pet names used: baby, good girl, various insults tbh. 2.8K WC.

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑, had this idea for like, a whole year now. oops. just love autumnal/dark academia type shit and abby is my favourite bookworm. abby picture by @/tpicsl on pinterest. MASTERLIST.

Creativity is fickle. Abby knows it better than anyone.

Her mind is her greatest asset. It is a hidden strength; everybody thinks they have her figured out just by glancing at her. The woman is built of brawn and steadily-sculpted muscle, but it is merely a peek into her real power.

Abby's appearance is a reflection of dedication, an application of self-discipline trained over many moons.

Her brain is her might. Her will to excel. It is a library of all the things she has loved, words she has read, stories she has heard.

And the result is an author of applaudable talent. Yet, her reputation precedes her—she is not easy to work with.

Abby has published four books so far in her career, but she's been through twice the amount of editors in that time. Nothing could ever stunt her rise to fame, no matter how many claims were made against the woman's cocky, self-gratified nature. Abby Anderson is a household name.

But as her most long-standing editor, you must agree with the rumours. Working for Abby is a living nightmare.

Creativity is fickle. Abby refuses to let anybody impede on her artistry. If they do not see her vision, she will throw a fit. Writing is her gift, and god forbid someone attempts to critique it. She rejects all common writing advice—should anyone attempt to tell her to 'kill her darlings', Abby will send back a heated, passive aggressive email.

You let her have her freedom. That is the difference between you and other editors. Perhaps they don't see the vision like you do, and absolutely not like Abby does. You will remove what is only necessary, and maybe there are small disagreements every so often, but you have proven yourself to have the wit that matches Abby's perplexity.

You do not leech on her—sucking the life and rareness out of her words, only to brag and drag her name through the mud. Even Abby will admit that you are the most pleasant editor to work with.

But god, she almost burnt you out.

Impossible deadlines, communicating at only the most iniquitous hours. Whether it was a high-priority email at midnight or two-thousand words to be read and fixed by the end of the day, she was a prick. On purpose.

And why? Well, even though your furious emails would raise her hackles, she began to realise she actually enjoyed reading them. You've got quite the attitude. It certainly tickles her dry sense of humour, after all. Everything you say is professional, so as to not raise alarm, but it's laced with just enough venom to sting.

Her personal favourite email, which she immediately starred, is the one in which you were complaining about her constantly quoting you in her own book.

'Miss Anderson, I do not find you as funny as you think you are. I would like to be taken seriously when I voice my concerns about your ill-treatment of my service, as flattering as it may be that I have inspired your work. 'Please see attached the edited draft as requested. 'P.S. I do believe you ought to get some sleep. Sending a draft at 03:30 is not acceptable.'

It's just not fiery enough to halt her efforts.

Somehow, you made it out alive. Pulled yourself out of quicksand with that heavy load on your back. You have lived long enough to be present tonight.

Today marks the highly anticipated release of Abby Anderson's fifth release, her newest standalone title following her critically acclaimed series. Many reviews seem to say she just keeps getting better, while others written in unkempt fury detest her for writing in a way that feels almost pretentious nowadays.

Abby's clearly had a day full of bustling conversation, hundreds of well wishes. She signed so many copies of her book that her wrist aches of overuse. She made it through, thank goodness, and the hour of relaxation has finally arrived.

The release party.

Who doesn't love a party? A warm celebration filled with prideful chit-chat, her family and friends, and competitors masking their envy with tight-lipped smiles and side-eyes.

All that and a splash of champagne to take the edge off.

Your heels crunch flaxen leaves in your path to the door, streams of fading sunlight painting the yacht club in warm golds and gingers. It's a remotely calm evening save for the seaside breeze. The trees whistle and you can hear the faint sound of pastoral waves clashing with the cliffside.

Your inner-voice begs for a few moments more stood outside the party. You could give yourself some grace, a fleeting moment to prepare for the questioning and disrespect you'll receive.

You think back to a charity event Abby hosted once. You met a man who spoke with blatant indiscretion about Abby's writing, and admittedly your ego was bruised as much as Abby's would have been. He had watched you argue your point, and when you finished, the man parted his lips to ask, 'who are you?'

Her fucking editor, that's who. Only one who'll put up with her.

It would help if Abby would stop acting like she doesn't know you.

You don't expect flowers, nor praise. She wrote those books by herself. But a tree cannot grow without proper care. If her words were sowing the seeds, you were watering them.

If only Abby could take the stick from her ass and so kindly acknowledge the sweat and tears you put into dealing with her.

Light disappears into the horizon and the moon has risen. These cocktail parties were never your style. It isn't a wild bender, nor is it a classy and quiet event. It's just somewhere between that.

Networking.

It's tedious, dreadful. If you don't catch their attention within the first seconds of the conversation, you won't make that connection. First impressions are everything, and unfortunately, you struggle to be as charming as the others in this room.

"Well, well, well. Look who showed up."

Her eyes have wandered to you for the past two hours, not as discreet as she thought she was being. It seems Abby has finally found the time to pull away from big-wig publishers and authors to finally seek you out.

"I almost thought you were gonna pull the same shit as last time 'n hide all night."

"You wish." Your voice is dry and quick, always straight to the point. "Makes no difference if I stay in the shadows or hang around the others. You'll ignore me anyway."

"No," Abby murmurs, a scrunched up scowl on her face now. It's far from hateful, and directed more towards herself than you. "I'm talking to you now, aren't I?"

"Mhm."

"You know what I just.. love?" Abby asks, head tilted towards you. You are a thief to Abby's attention no matter where or when, but regret to realise that. "You are just as hard to deal with in person as you are over email. It's really authentic."

"Ah." You give a curt nod, taking a short sip of wine, and notice the way her eyes track the movement. They linger over your lips, struggling to tear away. "I am glad you think so. I like to keep it real."

She scoffs, short and breathy. "Yeah. It's real lovely."

Abby enjoys the way you match her energy. She enjoys it too much.

"So, did you come here to say anything worthwhile, or are you just polite enough to greet all your guests?"

Her face doesn't change—her smile remains intact, but it's the twitch of her eye that forces a soft chuckle past your lips.

"Yeah, actually. You know, I was getting there." Abby's indignant reply is masked with a pleasant tone, one that irks you. She doesn't know how to act any way but sarcastically with you. She could say the smallest thing, but it gets on your nerves. You're not the most proud of how reactive you are to Abby's behaviour. "You know, some sappy shit about how helpful you are. But I might keep it to myself now."

"Makes no difference to me," you say with a shrug of your shoulders. Actually, it would be nice to hear what she has to say. "You couldn't be genuine with me if you tried."

"You know what? Let's go." Abby takes and sets your glass down on a nearby table for you, hand wrapping firm around your wrist. "I have some things to say to you that I'd rather others don't hear."

"Can't wait," you mutter, anticipating what, from past experience, can only be referred to as a sour exchange of words.

Abby drops your hand to get the door with the most cocky grin you've seen on her face in a long time. "Ladies first."

The French doors lead to a round balcony that overlooks the water. As you step outside you feel a wave of relaxation overcome you. The ocean is calm, the breeze from earlier has filtered away into a still, but cold, night. The only sounds you can hear are muffled chatter and music from inside.

"Alright." You clasp your hands together and bat your lashes. "What was it you had to say? Don't forget to raise your voice this time."

"Y'know, I actually wasn't planning on yelling at you," Abby says in a gritty voice, stepping closer. "But if you keep trying to get smart with me, I may reconsider."

"Oh, of course. I hope you do. It's a pleasant sound."

"I— Stop talking."

Without you having realised, she's backed you into a corner. Your hands grasp the stone fence of the balcony tightly, looking away until she tugs your jaw closer.

"I wanted to actually say something nice. You know, a sorry for being a cunt. A thank you for putting up with me. I wouldn't have half the success I have if it weren't for you."

"Oh."

It's simply unexpected. It isn't an out-of-this-world idea for Abby to be sincere, of course not. But her confidence is often mistaken for pure arrogance. You just didn't think she could tone down her ego enough for something like this. Not at a release party, at least—this whole shebang is meant to be celebrating her.

"I didn't know how to show you I actually appreciate your work," Abby continues, "I thought about flowers... a letter... you know, for an author, it was ridiculously hard to put some words down. And I wanted to avoid cliché. So I wanted to personally talk to you about it."

"You know, this is actually leaning further into cliché territory than a letter?" You muse, only with the intention of making this slightly less awkward.

Considering Abby is usually the one to let her eyes wander, right now, you are the one who can't pull their eyes away. Her shirt fits her far too perfectly for your liking. Her eyes, electric blue and staring sharply enough to cut you—they're perfect. And you hate it.

"Oh yeah?" Abby huffs, her palm flat on the fence behind you. She's caged you in. "Why's that?"

"Because you look like you're about to kiss me."

She falters for a moment, sheer surprise on her face. Oh, come on. She can't be that clueless to her own desires, can she?

"You wish."

"Well if you don't kiss me, I'm going to kiss you."

"What? Because I said one kind thing to you? Are you really that easy?" Abby lets out a quiet laugh in disbelief, perhaps a bit of shock too—you've thrown her off balance.

"You are the one who's not-so-subtly stared at my lips all night," you point out. "So I think you need to find your own answer to your question."

Jesus, you make Abby actually think sometimes. Interacting with you is different—her wit is matched for once, you indulge in the same dry sarcasm, you're actually fucking intelligent.

But what irritates her is the way you have such a great read on her.

"What I need is for you to shut up and let me be nice to you for once."

"God, you write your own clichés so much you'd think you would have seen this coming." You meet her eyes with that of a mischievous look in your own, lips curled into a satisfied grin. "Make me."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Screw it.

Her lips are on yours. Her hands settle over your hips. It's warm—incendiary, even. The autumn chill takes a backseat as she kisses you once, twice, and once more.

She stays close enough for your breaths to mingle, lips a hair's breadth away from each other now.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" You murmur. Abby scoffs softly.

"I hate you."

"I don't think that's right."

"No?"

"You're welcome to walk away right now, if you hate me so much."

There is not a chance that's going to happen. Even below the faint blue moonlight, you can see how rosy her cheeks have turned. Not a chance. She's staying right here.

"I thought a kiss was supposed to make you shut up," Abby grumbles.

"Oh, ha, sorry." You aren't sorry in the slightest. That coy smile is going to be the death of her. Who knew little old you would have the upper hand right now? "You can try again, if you'd like."

"Right."

It's as desperate and fiery as before, yet not as ephemeral. She's captured your words with her lips, her hands unceasingly moving along your figure. She touches and grabs everywhere that she can reach. You cup the back of her head and pull her closer as you sit on the balcony fence.

That stresses her out the slightest bit. It's a precarious position, on a high place, no less. But she simply takes it as an opportunity to splay her palm over your ass, 'keeping you from falling off.'

"Here's the deal." Abby attempts to command you, but wandering lips are staining her throat in lipstick and, plain and simply, she whimpers her words. "You're gonna watch that door and tell me if someone's comin'."

"Mhm."

Your mouth seeks her freckled collarbone, so tauntingly visible beneath her shirt. She always leaves the first few buttons undone. You've controlled yourself so well all this time, you deserve to taste the salt of her skin there.

And Abby's fumbling with the button of your pants. They fit you so well. They hug your body just right, flaring at the ankles. They hug her attention, too.

"Coast is clear?" Abby whispers. Her hand is painfully close to where she wants to be, buried into your cunt, but she just can't without the confirmation that you won't be caught in your little escapade.

You peek over Abby's shoulder. The party is still bustling inside, not a soul seeming concerned with the balcony.

"It's clear."

"Thank god."

Abby's hand slides beneath your panties finally. She's amused with the way you spread your thighs wider to accommodate her, your legs wrapping around her waist now.

"That's a good girl," she mumbles, fingers gathering some of your wetness. She nearly shudders at how fucking hot all of this is. You, your stuttered breath, and the thrill of fucking you somewhere so public. "Shh-shh."

Two fingers push past your folds and your hands grip her broadened shoulders. It's a stretch, those thick fingers stuffed pretty inside you, but the feeling is more than welcome.

"Fuck, Abs."

"I know, just be quiet."

Her fingers begin to move, slow at first as she tests the waters, and gradually it reaches a faster pace. Your sounds are even better than she could have anticipated they'd be. Gentle, short moans. So, so cute, and all for her ears' pleasure only.

"Open those eyes, baby. You need to keep watch."

You do your best. You force your eyes open and stare at the blurry door behind Abby.

Her digits reach in deep, they stretch you wide, and her thumb laves over your clit simultaneously. She feels the tension build in your body. Your fingers bruise her shoulders, your legs tremble, and you muffle your rising volume by hiding in the crook of her neck.

"C'mon, baby," Abby encourages, her free hand groping and squeezing your butt. "Gonna cum for me?"

She has finally conquered your attitude. Left you unable to do anything but moan, and fuck, your legs feel like jelly now. She revels in your jittering, in the clenching of your hole around her fingers.

"Good girl." The praise, sweetened further by that smooth voice, leaves you reeling. And like the prick she is, she just has to use your own words back at you. "Wasn't that hard to shut up, was it? You did so good for me."

You hum tiredly in response, weak fingers fastening your trousers again. "I hate you."

"Hate me enough to come home with me?"

Ha.

"Of course."

#𖤐 ── petalrambling.#tlou2 x reader #lesbian #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #wlw nsft #abby anderson smut #dom!abby #sub!reader #author!abby #𖤐 ── petalworks.

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she-who-fights-and-writes · 1 year ago

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MASTER LIST OF INSTRUMENTAL PLAYLISTS FOR WRITING (OR FOR STUDYING, MAKING ART, ETC.)

I find that the perfect writing playlist can GREATLY enhance the writing experience. Even if it doesn't make your writing "better" (which it can, since it helps writers with visualization, tone, and mood), it can definitely make your writing flow easier!

Personally, words distract me when I'm writing, either by breaking my train of thought or by getting me too into the music so that I'm jamming out to my favorite tunes instead of writing.

Therefore, I've amassed a vast knowledge of instrumental music across a variety of media over a course of many years. Now here I am, deciding to share all of them with you!

Maddy’s Favorite Instrumental Songs

Just like the title says. All of the best pieces of instrumental music I've ever heard, compiled together with no regard for genre. It can be a bit of a whiplash playlist, but some amazing recs in there that I just like listening to in my free time, not just for writing.

Maddy’s Ultimate Instrumental Playlist

A mega compilation of 550+ fantastic instrumental music from a variety of media and genres. Kind of a whiplash playlist if you put it on shuffle, but is a great start for anyone looking to find what kind of instrumental music they like! Playlist Groupings in Order: Independent instrumental songs, live action movies, animated movies, animated tv shows, live action tv shows, video games.

Maddy's Instrumental for Sleep

Some more chill vibe instrumental for people who either A) want to sleep or B) want a relaxed playlist that won't distract you with loud volume and sudden changes in tempo or melody.

MISC PLAYLISTS:

you're a haggard adventurer discovering worlds beyond your wildest dreams

Music to inspire wonder and wanderlust, the kind of feeling you get when you finally reach the end of a mountain hike and see the world stretching out before you.

you're a hero who's just lost everything

Basically the most sad instrumental music I could find. A playlist for grief and revenge.

more beneath the cut :)

you're a cowboy in the great American West

Cowboy instrumental for all of your ambient and writing needs. Or if you just really want to feel like a cowboy.

you're a divine witness

Epic choir music (no English). Most religious, some not, but all kind of have that eerie sacred vibe. I listen to this while writing my book about angels and demons.

you’re a scholar uncovering the secrets of the universe

Great chill study playlist! Has the kind of same exploratory/discovery type feel as the haggard adventurer playlist, but more dark academia.

you’re a villain plotting to take over the world

Villain-coded instrumental! Sinister, dark, and/or unsettling.

you're an academic weapon

HIGH BPM STUDY PLAYLIST! Keeps me focused, hyped, and helps me work faster!

you're an ancient god

Playlist that gives an ancient/eerie vibe. But some ancient gods are merciful- so there are some upbeat songs for wonder and awe!

you're falling in love

Music that encapsulates what I think falling in love feels like. Very beautiful, tender, and uplifting instrumental.

you're fighting the final battle

Intense and epic battle music for all of your fight-scene-writing needs! Good for getting shit done, but isn't necessarily restricted to high BPM like the academic weapon playlist.

you're having a tea party

Refined instrumental for a tea party, including classical, big band, and some miscellaneous goodies.

you're in a chase scene

Music for writing chase scenes. Pretty good hype music, too. Includes soundtracks from classic chase scenes in popular media!

you're in the medieval times

Medieval-sounding music for all of your ambient and/or writing needs.

you’re in your childhood room. the door is open a crack. people talk softly downstairs.

A playlist dedicated to nostalgia, to the feeling of lying in bed with your nightlight on after being too tired to stay awake at your family get-together. Could either make your day or break your heart lmao

you're the happiest you've ever been

Lighthearted instrumental meant to lift your spirits! A playlist dedicated to the joys of the little things.

#writing #writers #writeblr #booklr #creative writing #studying #writing playlist #roleplay #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writing inspo #writing inspiration #inspo #music #music rec #instrumental music

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doumadono · 6 months ago

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For sinful sunday (I literally pray so my prompt gets some votes lol) - how about showering with Touya/Dabi???

Warnings: smut w/o plot, shower smut, rough smut, pussy fingering, oral (m receiving), fem villain!reader, established relationship, some spanking, quirk usage

A/N: this request got the third highest number of votes during the second Sinful Sunday poll I held. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA

It was hard to be a villain.

The life you had chosen was not for the faint-hearted, and it had taken everything from you, leaving only a raw, jagged determination to fight back.

Giran had seen that spark in you, the way your eyes had blazed with untamed fury when you crossed paths in a seedy alley one rainy night.

You had been on the run, a fugitive without a cause, and he had offered you an opportunity — a chance to join the League of Villains. It hadn't taken much convincing. After all, you had nothing left to lose.

Joining the League wasn't easy. You had to prove your worth through countless trials, showing that you could stand your ground amidst the chaos.

The League was a motley crew of outcasts and renegades, each with their own dark pasts and twisted motives.

The first time you met Dabi, he barely acknowledged your presence, dismissing you as just another unnecessary mouth to feed. But your persistence, unwavering determination, exceptional combat skills and quick thinking caught his attention.

Beneath the animosity, there was an undeniable attraction, a pull that neither of you could resist.

He was tough, abrasive, and often cruel, but there was something in his eyes when he looked at you — a flicker of comprehension, a hint of appreciation.

You were both broken, scarred by the world, and your shared pain forged a bond that transcended words.

Your relationship with Dabi had started with friction, but over time, the rough edges had smoothed, revealing a raw and intense connection. You found solace in each other's darkness.

The hideout was silent, save for the creaking pipes and the distant hum of city life.

You and Dabi returned after a particularly grueling mission. The adrenaline still coursed through your veins, leaving you restless and on edge.

The mission had been challenging, pushing both of you to your limits. Your muscles ached, and the grime and sweat clung to your skin, making you long for the solace of a shower, to feel clean again.

Unfortunately, the building's hot water supply had failed. Again.

Frustration welled up inside you, but the need to feel clean overrode your reluctance.

Stripping off your dirty clothes, you stepped into the cramped bathroom and unscrewed the tap in a shower stall. A shiver ran through you as the icy water hit your skin, drawing a whine from your lips. "Dammit," you muttered, hugging yourself for warmth, already shivering all over the body from the overwhelming cold. The icy water was unbearable, but you forced yourself to endure it, trying to wash away the remnants of the day.

The bathroom door creaked open, and you turned to see Dabi leaning casually against the frame, a smirk playing on his lips. "Cold, huh?" he said, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah, no thanks to this shitty plumbing," you replied, teeth chattering.

He smirked, the corner of his mouth curling up in that infuriatingly attractive way. He pushed off the doorframe and sauntered towards you. "Let me fix that for you."

You watched, captivated, as he undressed tantalizingly slowly. His white t-shirt came off first, revealing the patchwork of scars that adorned his torso, each one a testament to his brutal past. Next came his dark pants, sliding down his long legs with deliberate seduction. Finally, he stepped out of his boxers, leaving him gloriously bare, his cock you loved so much resting snuggly against his upper thighs.

Dabi stepped into the shower behind you. The cold water didn't seem to bother him; his quirk made him immune to such discomforts. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, "Can't let you freeze to death, can I?"

His quirk activated, his body heating instantly, and the water transformed from icy to blissfully warm. Steam rose around you, enveloping you in a sultry haze. The shower and bathroom felt like a sauna, the air thick with dampness.

You turned in his arms, pressing your body against his, squeezing your breasts against his chest. The heat from his quirk seeped into your skin, and you moaned softly at the delicious warmth. You sighed in relief, closing your eyes as the hot water soothed your aching muscles. But then, you felt his rough hands on your hips, pulling you closer. Your eyes snapped open to find him staring down at you, his gaze intense and filled with hunger.

Dabi's hands roamed over your back, trailing fire in their wake.

"Thanks, I needed that," you breathed, tilting your head up to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

His response was immediate and hungry, his mouth devouring yours with a fervor that left you dizzy. His tongue teased yours, a dance of dominance and submission.

You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

As you two kissed, your hand drifted downward, brushing against the length of his cock.

His breath hitched slightly, a low growl rumbling from his chest as you grasped his cock, stroking him slowly.

The feel of him, firm and hot, growing hard and throbbing in your hand, sent a jolt of desire through your body, making your pussy wet. You couldn’t stop thinking about having this dick buried in your tight cunt, stretching your velvety walls to their limits.

The desire was so violent it seemed devouring your entire being.

His eyes darkened with lust, and he bucked slightly into your hand, the rhythm of your movements drawing a ragged moan from him. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with an intense, burning need even though his damp bangs fell directly into his eyes. "You’re playing with fire," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

"Maybe I like getting burned," you whispered back, your voice a sultry whisper.

You kept on stroking his cock, occasionally brushing its mushroom head with your thumb as the two of you kept on kissing. Your other hand moved to his ball sack, where you gently massaged him, eliciting a deep, throaty groan from Dabi’s lips.

You moaned as his needy hand slipped between your thighs, rubbing your clit with a fierce intensity. Dabi was impatient, and you could feel it in every urgent stroke. Soon, his long, middle finger slipped into your slick entrance, gently brushing your inner walls as he finger fucked you.

His lips left yours, trailing down your neck, leaving a path of scorching kisses that made you moan softly. “You’re so fucking wet.” His thumb started brushing against your folds, pressing on them and flicking against them, making you a moaning mess.

Your body arched against him, craving more of his touch, more of the heat that only he could provide. "Dabi, please..." you begged, your voice barely a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Impatient, aren't we?"

“Please,” you whined, trying to make him slip another finger in your needy hole.

“Suck my dick and you’ll be rewarded,” he cooed, gently slapping your hand, pushing it off his one. as he brought his finger that was previously buried in you to his mouth, licking it clean. “Tasty as always.”

You knelt down before Dabi. The water flowed down your face and body, making your skin glisten with moisture. He looked down at you with a devious grin spreading across his face.

You began by gently kissing his inner thighs, teasing him with soft, wet kisses.

He let out a soft moan.

Next, you wrapped your hand around the base of his hardening cock, enjoying the feeling of its weight in your hand. The water from the showerhead made it slippery and smooth, making your task all the more pleasurable.

You then leaned forward, parting your lips to take the head of his cock into your mouth.

He hissed through his teeth, hissing, "Fuck, yes," as you began to suck on the tip of his cock.

You swirled your tongue around the head, tasting the salty pre-cum that leaked from his slit. It was a taste you had grown to love, and it only served to heighten your own arousal. You took his entire length into your mouth shortly after, your lips sliding down his shaft as your tongue swirled around him.

Dabi's moans grew louder, echoing off the bathroom walls as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. You could feel his hands on the back of your head, guiding your movements and urging you to take him deeper.

You moved your hand in sync with your mouth, stroking the base of his cock as you sucked on the head. You paused for a moment, looking up at him.

His eyes were partially closed, and his head was thrown back in pure ecstasy.

You knew that he was close to the edge, so you decided to take it up a notch.

You took his cock into your mouth once more, using your hand to massage his balls as you pushed his dick as deep down your throat as you could, gagging yourself. You could feel his balls tighten, a sure sign that he was about to cum.

Dabi let out a loud moan, his cock twitching as he erupted into your mouth. “Fuck, yeah,” he growled.

You swallowed every drop of his thick seed, savoring the taste of his cum as you milked his cock for every last drop. Still on your knees, you looked up at him smiling sweetly, your lips still wet and sticky with his cum.

Dabi smirked down at you, pulling you up to your feet. But then, he lifted you slightly so you could wrap your legs around his waist, pressing your back against the shower wall.

“Dabi, please, I need you!”

He met your gaze, his turquoise eyes burning with desire. "I love it when you beg," he said, a wicked grin spreading across his scarred face. He nipped and sucked at the skin of your neck, marking you as his.

Your hands tangled in his hair, urging him on. “Fuck me,” you whispered, biting your lower lip.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he murmured against your collarbone, his breath hot and teasing as he lined his cock with your tight entrance.

Without another word, he pushed his cock into your pussy with a single, powerful thrust.

You cried out, your back arching as pleasure and pain mingled in a heady rush.

Dabi set a relentless pace. His large hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he drove deeper, harder. “So fucking tight,” he murmured.

The cool tiles pressed against your back, a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he pinned you in place, fucking you rough, just the way he liked.

Your breaths mingled, ragged and urgent, as the tension built within you. You could barely catch your breath, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to anchor yourself. "Dabi," you moaned, your voice a mixture of desperation and bliss. "Don't stop."

His lips curled into a smirk at your words, and he leaned in to capture your lips in another kiss.

You could taste the salt of your combined sweat and the faint metallic tang of his tongue piercing.

He broke the kiss to nip at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. "I won't stop," he promised, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill down your spine. "Not until you scream my name." His grip tightened on your hips, and he angled his thrusts to hit that perfect spot inside you.

You whined pathetically like a cheap whore. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, ready to snap at any moment.

His hips pistoned into yours, his veiny cock brushing against all your sweet spots as he fucked you rough.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull whenever the tip of his cock pressed hard against your cervix, making you wetter with every passing second. You were glad he was fucking you in the shower; otherwise, he’d leave you a total mess, too exhausted to clean yourself. You slipped one of your hands between your bodies to rub little circles around your clit for more friction, rolling your head back to rest it against the tiles as the pleasure made you shiver and moan.

Dabi chuckled darkly, squeezing the meat of your ass before spanking it hard enough to leave an imprint of his hand. "That's my little cockslut," he praised, nibbling your earlobe.

When he hit that particularly sweet spot of yours a few times in a row, you couldn’t help it. With a cry, you squirted, your release mixing with the water cascading around you, staining his shredded abdomen.

Dabi chuckled, licking his lips. "That's it, little matchbox, that's my good girl. Is daddy making you feel that good?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, burying your head in the crook of his neck, feeling all shy out of sudden. “I… I wanna cum…”

Dabi chuckled and hissed after feeling your pussy clamping down on his cock. "Daddy's going to make you cum."

With a final, powerful thrust, you both shattered, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your pussy convulsed around his cock as if it tried to milk all of his cum, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

Dabi held you tightly, riding out his own peak with a guttural moan. Before he cum though, he withdrew from you, and jerked himself a few times, coming all over your abdomen with a loud groans escaping his lips.

As the aftershocks subsided, you clung to each other, the steam slowly dissipating around you.

Dabi's forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and soothing. "Feeling clean now?" he teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You chuckled, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "Yeah, I guess… I feel even more tired, but damn, it was worth it.”

He kissed you gently, a tender contrast to the intensity of moments before. "Anytime, little matchbox. I fucking love you.”

You chuckled, gently stroking up and down his toned chest and abdomen. “And I love you too, my edgy arsonist.”

A frown crossed his forehead, but he let out a soft chuckle. "Well, this time I'll let it slip, but call me that again and I'll have to punish you."

You nodded, and the two of you began washing yourselves.

No matter how hard it was to be a villain, facing it together made it all worthwhile.

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sinsirellaxx · 7 months ago

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I've been thinking about this for several days and I'd really love to know your opinion:

What do you think is the ideal type of each of the Slytherin boys?

Slytherin boys – Their ideal types

Warning: Toxic boys alert! (Not that bad though)

A/N: Ooh, this one was hard! Honestly, I had never really thought about that – or wanted to think about it … but here it goes:

PS: I didn't want to write about ideal body types, so I left that bit out – hope that is alright!

Mattheo …

… doe eyes – does not matter which color (although brownie points for brown eyes) – he’d spend hours just staring into your eyes. If you know how to use your eyes to your advantage, you’ll have him wrapped around your finger.

… pouty lips with a defined cupid’s bow. He’d always have to kiss you whenever he glimpsed at your lips – which was quite often. Be prepared to be kissed all. The. Time. Even during classes – which got you both detention for inappropriate displays of affection.

… he loves long hair, especially curly or wavy hair. Whenever he’s bored, he’ll twirl your curls around his finger.

… he needs a loving, affectionate, soft partner. He’s quite needy and possessive, so he’ll need someone who’ll constantly reassure him without judging him for being overly possessive.

… however, he’d bee head over heels if you also have some sass to you: Sweet, loving but make it spicy.

… loves sneakers and his hoodies on you. Especially if his hoodies still smell like him. The thought of his smell marking you makes him want to go feral.

… would love someone who is inexperienced ... because let’s be honest: the thought of you having been with other people would drive him mad and rob him of his sleep.

Theodore …

… loves long hair as well. He’d try to braid your hair for you – he’d lowkey be possessive over your hair and get angry whenever someone else touches it.

… thinks he wants a more sultry-seductive-siren-like partner, but I think he’d simp for a golden-retriever-type-of partner.

… would secretly wish for you to cook and bake for him – especially Italian dishes and pastries.

… he loved his late mom but she was taken too early from him, which is why he needs someone nurturing, mature and someone who tells him when he’s in the wrong – he won’t like his partner telling him what to do though, especially if he isn’t completely in love with them.

… has a corruption-kink, that he still has to recognize/accept, which is why he’d be crazy about an innocent partner – even if it’s a facade. Bat your lashes at him, and bite your lips and he’s gone

… loves – absolutely adores – milkmaid dresses on his partner

Lorenzo …

… loves a good struggle – so, someone with an attitude – a diva!

… although he wants sass, he’d be mad if his partner refused to listen to him – but as mentioned above: he loves a good struggle, so challenge him.

… adores long hair, especially if worn down.

… wants a partner who always dresses up prettily – just for him!

… play hard to get and he’ll be running after you like a starved dog – but don’t let him grovel for too long, otherwise he’ll be fed up.

… he wants someone who’ll take care of him and praise him, someone who radiates warmth, someone who lets him be the little spoon once in a while.

… wouldn’t want his partner to be taller than him.

… wants someone who only shows their true self to him – to people that they are close and intimate with.

… otherwise, he’d love for his partner to be more introverted.

Draco …

… wants someone he can pamper.

… needs someone who will pamper him emotionally.

… loves lighter hair.

… adores the dark academia style on his partner.

… needs someone who’ll listen to him – someone who is honest with him if need be.

… he’d need someone more goofy – a good-natured partner (that he can easily manipulate if he has to)

Blaise …

… loves long hair.

… is drawn to out-going and playful personalities – someone he can have fun with.

… if his partner does not shy back from telling people to fuck off he’d be on his hands and knees for them.

… would absolutely freckles and/or siren-eyes – he’d be simping 24/7.

… thick thighs for days for this boy.

… someone who is shorter than him.

Tom …

… wants someone smart, witty and strong-willed – but someone who will submit to him (although I believe the dark side of him would enjoy if they put up a fight once in a while, he’d enjoy the putting his partner in their place)

… would hate a clingy partner – but they would have to be ready to give him affection whenever he wants.

… does not care about hair length, but he’d like darker hair.

… needs (not wants) a caring partner, someone who’ll stubbornly tell him to finally eat or get some sleep.

A/N: What do you think their ideal types would be?

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helluvapoison · 9 months ago

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Hey can you write headcanons for alastor, angel dust(both platonic) and sir pentious (romantic) with a gen z/millennial reader? Just general stuff and interactions (like maybe talking about how things are for the lgbt community with angel and talking to alastor about gramophones and how they're coming back in style) and just some shenanigans

I know you don't have these characters listed in your writing list, and it's completely fine if you cant write for them but i love your writing style and characterization so I wanted to know how you'd imagine things would go

Alastor, Angel Dust (platonic) and Sir Pentious (romantic) x Reader

˚✧₊⁎ Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• “Hey Al! Loving the drip, it’s giving strawberry cow meets dark academia core.”

• Now he knows what others feel like when speaking to Zestial. He doesn’t understand half of what you say

• You taught him “tea”. Originally he thought you were providing real tea, something useful, not tedious gossip about— Oh. Oh. That could come in handy, actually. Alastor begins to pencil you into his afternoon tea. Sometimes you bring him useful information, others he has to sit through petty issues that make his eye twitch

• Alastor outright bans you from using your phone around him. He has no interest in this “meme” that reminds you of him (Don’t bring it out again, next time he’ll break it)

You groan, “It’s not as funny if I have to explain it!”

“It must not be very humorous in the first place.” He retorts

• He thinks you’re complimenting his taste in decor when you call it vintage

• You’ve proven yourself a useful acquaintance. Like Nifty, he’s grown accustomed to your presence and learned it may be better not to understand the inner workings of your mind

• “Got any aces?” someone asks while you play Go Fish with Husk, Angel and Sir Pina Colada. You never fail to jab a thumb in Alastor’s direction, cackling and kicking your feet

• They give you a peculiar look in reply

“Fuck you guys, I ate.”

• Yeah, they don’t get that one either

˚✧₊⁎ Angel Dust ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• It feels like every day Angel’s mid-insult and snapping his fingers at you, beckoning for you to conjure up a fresh comeback

• “Ooh! You just got cancelled, take the L, you fucking poser!”

He cackles, “Yeah! What they said!”

• Started calling himself an e-girl because you said it once about Charlie and never elaborated. He thinks it means cute… He’s not wrong? You don’t correct him, it’s funnier this way

• Playful arguments 24/7

“RIP, Angel, you would have loved Mean Girls— Wait, if a movie dies would it come to Hell? Never mind, don’t answer that, it would obviously go to Heaven.”

“I’ve met some real weirdos down here, sweetheart, and you outrank almost all of ‘em.”

• Something Angel noticed he could only appreciate from you is how different you react to his relationship with Val. He already knows it’s not healthy and he knows he gets defensive when people bring it up. Like the others, you listen, you comfort, you get furious on his behalf. You also offer him insight and labels he never thought would be helpful

• You hold up two fingers like you’re conducting an orchestra as you speak, “Say it with me; boundaries, bitch.”

“Boundaries..? S’at like bondage–?”

”NO!”

• Angel’s the only one that makes HellToks with you. The dances he learns faster and performs them better than you, often adding his own choreography to them. The “pass the phone” challenges never end well– especially when he tries to rope Nifty or Alastor in on them (RIP your old phone)

• Honestly, you’re pretty surprised you get along with Angel as well as you do. Y’know, considering he died a thousand years before you—

“I ain’t that old!”

“Your death certificate says otherwise, fam!”

˚✧₊⁎ Sir Pentious ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He’s not sure how to handle how touchy you are first. You go around high-fiving everyone, freely holding hands with whoever lets you, offering hugs and– thump. Your head hits his lap, staring straight right at him with a goofy grin. And that.

• “Say slay,”

“Sssslay?”

• Oh. He quite likes the laugh that gets out of you

• Starts saying the word as much as possible, puffing his chest out proudly when you double over laughing. You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s using it wrong 99.9% of the time

• When you began consistently picking him for a chair instead of the others, he was stuck between throwing you across the room and making a break for it or pointing and laughing in the faces of everyone else. You chose him! HA!

• Bless his soul, the way he asked you out was so sweet

“I’ve done extensive research and found the equivalent of going sssteady in your language! I would like for us to move forward with the relationship ssstatus.”

“Huh? Oh. You want to go out with me? Yeah!”

“Fuck yesss!“

• Pentious gives ride or die a new definition. Everything you say or you do, he will back you up. His eyes sparkle from the praise you give him

• That, and making him blush takes little effort on your part. Complimenting him like you always do (at least he thinks you are, sometimes he’s not certain) has his cheeks glowing in seconds

• After following you around for an hour, because Pentious wanted to make sure you could get along with the Egg Boiz without him, they adopt bits of your personality and bizarre phrases. “Now we have two parents!” “No cap!” “Yes cap, you’re wearing a hat!”

• You’ve single handedly make the Egg Boiz worse in the eyes of everyone but Pen. He’s ecstatic over the results, he doesn’t know what he would do if he had to choose between you and his eggs

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ this was so silly and fun, i hope you enjoy anon!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor headcanons #alastor x reader #angel dust headcanon #angel dust x reader #sir pentious imagine #sir pentious x reader #hazbin sir pentious #platonic or romantic

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azsazz · 4 months ago

Text

Brains and Bravado

Kinktober Day 12: Dorian x Reader [Hate-Fucking]

Summary: Anon Req: For kinktober I would like to see either Rowan or Dorian! Maybe reader doesn’t get along with him but they have hate sex a lot and secretly like each other, however, they’re too stubborn (their pride) to admit it. Thank you for writing so many amazing fics for us, I’m excited for kinktober!👻

Based off of the previous ask of Dark Academia!Dorian

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 3,944

Notes: You'll know the part I yearn for when you read it 😏 the rest is sort of meh

_________________________________________

You dislike Dorian Havilliard very much.

It doesn’t matter that he’s the son to the king or that his best friend is a lord-turned-captain-of-the-royal-guard. Here, he’s just Dorian, an annoying pain-in-the-ass know-it-all that you’ve sworn to demolish with your good grades.

Unfortunately, Dorian is as smart with his head as he is with that tongue.

It’s said tongue of his that always gets him out of trouble. The professors love him, eat up any excuse to fall into his good graces, whether it’s passing him with flying colors or allowing him extra special office hours whenever he should come calling.

It’s not only the teachers who fall for the boy who makes the ugly, pristinely-pressed uniform look way too good. Everyone laughs at his jokes, flounders over his words even when they have no meaning at all. Girls and boys alike fall to his feet at the charming ways he speaks to them, looks at them, flirtatious to the bone.

You aren’t like that. Intelligent, yes, but your lips don’t curve around your words like Dorian’s do. They are his long-time lover, held near and dear and are cared for. He speaks like an age-old poem, like he’d been an esteemed author in a past life, the way they flow so easily for him.

No, you can write beautiful sentences, transform letters into works of art, ones that bring tears to the eyes of the beholder, but it’s speaking eloquently that always trips you up. You lack the emotion, the confidence, to really make your words ring true.

The laughter and easiness of the hall seems to dwindle into a silence that only Dorian himself can evoke, and you turn from gathering the textbooks you’ll need for the afternoon to watch. You don’t want to, but for some reason you’re as drawn to him as the rest of the crowd is.

Dorian’s sapphire eyes stir something in your chest, even more so when they flicker down your body and that little smirk appears, the one he knows pisses you off to no end. Your stare turns into a molten glare at that look, and the feeling coursing through your veins must be a hot hatred for the boy striding down the damned halls like he owns the place.

Chaol trails Dorian down the hall like an esteemed purebred, waiting for a treat. He had the glare of a bloodhound too, but it doesn’t do much to ward off the flirtatious glares the prince is receiving. There hasn’t been a single time all year that you’ve seen them apart. They’re even in all of the same classes for Mother’s sake.

That look makes you want to squirm, to claw his eyes out. What a privilege it must be, to be the king’s son, you think, slamming your locker shut with a loud clang and spinning on your heel, stalking down the hall to your next class.

One of the ones that Dorian’s in.

Thankfully, he stops to ogle some girls who’ve hiked their uniform skirts up to their eyes at the appearance of the prince. Chaol, ever the mindful guard, stops with them.

You can feel those gemstone eyes following you down the hall. Of course, everything that Dorian sees in you is only surface level. He doesn’t know your background or the fact that you’d been kept at school over the summer because your parents couldn’t afford for you to come home, all while he was living it up in the lavish palace he calls home.

He doesn’t know that late at night you sneak out of your rooms and into the library. There’s a hidden door in there, tucked away within the vast stacks of a history so ancient, that it makes you shudder to even glance at. You haven’t found the courage to step foot down that particular aisle of books because the raw power in the air makes the hair on your arms stand tall. You had made it your mission to muster the confidence to see what’s behind that door before you graduate, and plan on spending any of your free time searching for other hidden passageways within this centuries old school.

Whilst lost in the thoughts of the door in the library, you almost miss out on the entire lecture. Your professor doesn’t seem to notice because Dorian is answering all the questions she asks, and she’s wooed by his boring responses that even the dunces of the class could explain with flying colors.

By the time you’re released from class, you’ve decided to explore more of the library for hidden doors or books that give off a harrowing aura, when you slam into a wall. Not a wall, but the chest of your rival, Dorian Havilliard.

“Where are you going?” He asks, blocking you from stepping out into the hall.

You haven’t realized that the class had cleared out so quickly, and you shuffle a step backwards, trying to ignore the heat of his body and the way it had felt pressed against yours for a fleeting moment. In a burst of betrayal, that warmth converges between your thighs, and your muscles jump as you try to clench them together without his notice.

“To the library.” You don’t know why you answer, maybe because you’re thrown off by his sudden presence and lack thereof his best friend. Where is Chaol, you wonder, swallowing harshly when Dorian leans against his arm in the doorframe. He’s tall, muscular, and the shape he’s in draws your gaze down his perfect frame.

Something in those sapphire eyes flash, his mouth flattening from his smirk. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” you argue. Who is he to tell you what you can and can’t do in your own free time? “I want to get started on the paper Professor Erawan assigned us,” you lie, thankfully remembering that tidbit from class while your mind strayed.

“Then I’ll come with you.” It’s not a suggestion.

You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, wondering what he could possibly want from you when there are plenty of people willing to give him the attention he’s craving. Dorian straightens and waves you out of the room with a flourish of his hand.

You stare for a long moment, brows furrowed as you try to figure him out. You’re not friends, and you don’t want to be. All you really want is to beat him at his game of wits, be the first in class, and solve the mystery of what’s behind the dark door in the library. None of which needs any involvement from him.

“Please,” you roll your eyes, giving him a wide berth as you step around him into the hall. He immediately steps into line with you, and you try to ignore the way that he’s slowing his gait to stride alongside you. “You’re only coming to flirt with the librarian.”

Dorian’s grin is wolfish, “Why would I flirt with the librarian, when you’re right next to me?”

You trip over your feet at his words. Dorian catches you with a hand around your arm, steadying you. His touch is hot on your skin, and the look in his eyes is hot.

Your heart races in your chest.

Of course, Dorian has an ethereal beauty to him that anyone would consider themselves lucky to be with, but the fact that he’s flirting with you of all people, when all you’ve done all year is argue and bicker like an old married couple confuses you almost as much as the idea of the hidden door in the library.

“I don’t know why you’d flirt with me at all, actually,” you reply when you can finally find your voice. You’re being snippy, but you want the irritatingly handsome boy beside you to go away. He can find a place to stuff his cock elsewhere—you’re nowhere near as easy as the rest of the students in this school. “We don’t like each other.”

“Awe,” Dorian croons. When you glance over at him, he’s wearing a taunting smile, one that fills you with as much warmth as a cup of tea. “Who said I didn’t like you?”

Turning down the corridor to the library, it’s surely unlikely that Dorian will leave your side. You make a show of glancing around as if you’re looking for something, ignoring the way that your heart stammers in your chest at the mention that there’s a possibility he might actually enjoy your presence.

“Where is your little lap dog?”

Dorian barks out a startling laugh. He looks shocked himself, placing a hand to his chest, his cheeks pinkening as his chuckle echoes through the halls. It being the weekend, students and professors alike have fled the school buildings, more than ready to start the fun of the weekend.

You’re pretty sure that you and Dorian are the only ones left in the school.

“Chaol is on errand,” he tells you, sapphire eyes sparkling with interest. “Would you rather have him join?”

He says it like it’s a proposition, like you’d be pressed tightly between both of their bodies, like you’re not walking in through the doors into the expansive library that has more secrets than books.

You shoot Dorian a sidelong glance, your brows furrowed in confusion. He’s acting nothing like the Dorian you’re used to. Well, sure, he’s still the cocky prince you know, but the flirting is new. He’s staring ahead, like what he’s said hasn’t just thrown you completely off axis.

“Here looks good,” you mutter, sliding your books onto one of the large wooden tables lining the walls. Anything to fill the silence. It’s eerie in a building like this, stacks upon stacks of books filled with puzzles you’ve yet to piece together.

“You’re actually studying?” Dorian sounds affronted, like he can’t believe that studying is something done in a library at all. Like it’s some sort of secret brothel or a place for his conquests.

You wouldn’t put it past him.

“I told you I was going to study,” you bite, “What did you think I was going to do?”

You regret the words almost as quickly as they leave your lips.

“I thought you invited me so that you could sneak your hands down my trousers. Wear my tie around your neck while I take you over the table, perhaps?”

“I didn’t invite you at all,” you fight, but your voice is as weak as the knees you’re pressing tightly together, trying to ignore the sudden interest your cunt has in his words.

You gasp when you’re suddenly turned around, Dorian pressing in close. He’s staring down at you like you’re his favorite treat, sapphire eyes dark with interest, want, and a tinge of…hate? Annoyance, maybe, because you’re putting up much more of a fight than he’s used to.

His cock twitches at that.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks, and the tenor of his voice rumbles deliciously against your chest. His scent is intoxicating, and you’re sure that his calloused fingers would feel just as good pressed against your skin as they are pinning your hips to the edge of the table.

Your brain must be on the fritz. Maybe you’ve stepped through that scary, looming, ancient door into another world because this cannot be happening. This isn’t Dorian.

“Why me?” you voice is quiet, a minute tremble to it that makes Dorian’s lashes flutter. He shifts on his feet, and you bite back the groan that crawls up your throat at the feeling of his hardening cock in his pants against your front. “Why now?”

He leans down to whisper in your ear, his long fingers tucking your hair tenderly behind your ear. The motion has your thighs clenching. His breath is a warm caress as he says, “Because I love it when you fight me. And I’ve had enough of keeping myself at bay. Hate me, if you must, but please let me fuck you.”

“Yes,” you sigh, and the word is barely out of your mouth before Dorian’s lips are against yours, hot and unyielding, ravaging you completely like a predator does it prey.

His fingers clutch at your clothes, curling into the fabric in a feral sort of need that has you gasping, has your cunt weeping and lightning zipping through your veins. You chase the feeling, rolling your hips against Dorian’s.

You don’t know what’s come over you. The taste of his lips is exquisite and much sweeter than the vitriol the both of you are usually spitting at each other. His scent invades your senses—ice, ocean, magic, and musk. It consumes you as much as his presence is right now, overwhelmed by not just the primal need for you in his life but because of the strange events that have led you from loathing the boy lying you back onto the wooden table.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants when you arch into his body. His breath is hot, mingling with your own as you gasp for air. Dorian’s cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, matching the color of his swollen lips that he darts his tongue across, chasing your taste. His sapphire eyes are all pupil, dark and consuming and hungry for more. “Spread those pretty legs for me.”

You follow his instruction like a person cursed, thighs spreading wide for Dorian as he stands to his full height. His eyes burn a thousand fires down your body as he takes his time drinking you in, the gentle caress of his hands following the same torturous path has shivers awakening across every inch of your body.

“Dorian,” you plead, but he’s too engrossed with taking his time. His fingers curl around the waistband of your pants, flicking the button open with ease and guiding them down your legs.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he admits, utterly distracted by the sight of your creamy thighs on display for him. He bites back the smirk that’s threatening to appear on his lips when you impatiently start kicking your pants down your legs with a frustrated and desperate keen. It makes his cock twitch, a bead of precum leak from the tip into the fabric of his underwear.

At the sight of your soaked panties calling to him like a siren, Dorian has to press his palm firmly against his aching cock, trying to keep himself from orgasming right now.

“How long?” you ask. Your fingers curl into the wood of the table because you need something to hold onto, and Dorian’s just out of reach. Your cheeks heat with arousal as those sapphire eyes zero in on your nipples where they’re tight and straining against your shirt. You don’t know why you feel the sudden urge to know how long he’s been thinking of you like this, why now is the time he’s finally decided to make his move, but you need to know his answer. “How long have you wanted me lying out for you like this, Dorian?”

His name sounds like heaven on your tongue, and he groans, releasing himself, his resolve snapping as he bends to take your mouth again.

You moan loudly, languidly. Dorian’s tongue brushes against yours and the feeling zips to your cunt as you imagine the feeling of his mouth sucking your clit, his tongue plunging inside of your dripping cunt like a starved male.

He hastily shoves up the fabric of your shirt, sneaking beneath the material of your bra to palm your breasts. You bury your fingers deeply into his hair, tugging on it when he tries to part from you. You didn’t know how desperately you’ve needed this—needed him—but now that his admission is out in the open and has you rethinking your dislike for the prince, you don’t want him to part from you.

“Since the first day we met,” Dorian breathes against your mouth. Your body goes slack with shock at the thought, fingers falling from his locks. Dorian doesn’t seem to notice, taking advantage of finally being free from you to mouth his way down your throat, burying his head beneath your shirt for a taste of your flesh.

You’d met Dorian years ago, on the first day of your time at school here. He was just as popular then as he is now, and just as cheeky, too. All you can recall from that day is the way how all of the other students were falling over their feet for a chance to befriend the prince. You’d wanted nothing to do with that, even when he’d stopped at your locker and tried to use his charm to get you to switch with him.

He had made a joke in poor taste, one that annoyed you enough to rebuttal with words not polite for someone of your status to say to a member of royalty, ever.

That was when you started to dislike Dorian Havilliard.

That sentiment is beginning to change, especially when he rolls one of your nipples gently between his teeth.

You cry out in pleasure, trying to grind your hips against his as you writhe beneath him on the table. Your arch, pressing your breasts into his mouth and he hums encouragingly, even more so when he hears the sound you make in response.

Dorian brushes his knuckles across your clothed cunt, reveling in how responsive you are for him when he’s barely done a thing. After this, he hopes that you won’t go back to hating him because he doesn’t think he can bear it, now that he has the taste of your engraved on his tongue.

He abandons post between your breasts, sliding his way down your body, kissing, licking, teasing every inch of skin that he can before he arrives at his desired destination. He settles himself between your legs, jerking your closer to him, your legs over his shoulders and ass leaning precariously on the edge of the table.

“Sweetheart?” he questions, and it takes effort for you to lift your head to look at him. Your body is burning with need, thighs trembling with anticipation. Your gaze is cloudy with lust and it takes you a few blinks to dispel it, giving Dorian your attention.

You scowl at the smirk gracing his lips. “What?”

“Do you still dislike me?”

Your heart thunders in your chest as you watch Dorian pull your panties to the side with long fingers that you know could hit every neglected spot inside of you. The cool air from the library breezes across your wetness along with the heat of his breath and it sends your mind into a dizziness of desire that forces you to take a moment to catch your breath.

“If I say yes?” you ask, biting your lip. Will he stop? Pretend that this was all some sort of game? A bet that he and Chaol had going on? Will he pop out from between bookshelves to laugh?

Before your mind can grasp onto one of those thoughts and overthink it, Dorian says with a twinkle to his sapphire eyes, “I’d say that you’re not going to after this.”

And then the prince feasts.

You fall back to the table with a cry of satisfaction. The thud of your head smacking the wood echoes throughout the library but you hardly feel a thing as Dorian licks a fat stripe up your clit. He doesn’t hesitate to bury himself in your cunt, fucking his tongue into you with fervor. Your thighs are already threatening to clamp shut around his head but his strong hold keeps them splayed wide as he devours you.

“Princeling,” you whine when you feel the tidal wave of orgasm building. You don’t know where the nickname comes from, somewhere buried as deeply inside of you as Dorain’s tongue is, but it has him growling against your cunt, trapping your clit between his teeth and flicking his tongue across it faster.

There’s nowhere for you to go, nowhere to squirm with the feeling that crashes over you because Dorian’s strength is pinning you to the table. Your fingers find his scalp, biting in, and Dorian welcomes the feeling, using that wicked tongue on you even when the wave crashes and you’re trying to shove him weakly away from your aching clit.

The reprieve of Dorian pulling away doesn’t last long. He straightens to his full height, keeping your legs hooked over his shoulders. It causes your body to slide even closer to him, your wet cunt butting right up against his cock that’s straining so hard in his pants that it’s painful.

“You’ll never call me anything else. Promise me,” he says, and with that harsh look in his eyes and the way that his lips glisten with your orgasm, you could never say no.

Dorian unsheathes himself, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down just enough that his cock springs free from its confines. He takes himself in hand, eyes wild with desire as he slides himself through your slickness.

Your breath is choked when you respond, “I promise.”

It’s pressed from your lungs completely with each inch his cock plunges into you. Your nails scrape against the wood of the table, the finishing catching beneath your nails. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the feeling of him stretching you wide, Dorian’s low groan reflecting the one that your body is desperate to release but is unable to.

His curse is sinful when his hips finally meet yours. He’s staring down at you like you’re everything to him. Like you’re his queen.

“Dorian,” you gasp.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Move.”

Move he does. Dorian’s hands meet your hips and your fingers clamp down on his forearms as he thrusts his hips. He loves the marks you’re leaving on his skin, the way you’re branding him with your hot, wet cunt wrapped tightly around him. There’s a sheen to his eyes that shifts something in your soul. You can feel it splintering out of your chest, winding through your veins and into Dorian’s where you’re connected.

He seems to feel it too, with the way that he leans over you again to capture your mouth against his.

“You will be my ending,” Dorian breathes when he’s able to pull himself away from you. He doesn’t go far, his lips brushing yours with his confession. “I would give you my last breath if it meant keeping you alive, but I’m selfish enough to admit that I’d waste it because I cannot imagine a plane of existence where I am without you.”

“Dorian!” You shudder with his words, hiss because how can one male be so good with words? So good with his fingers, his tongue, his cock? The way that he’s hitting that spot again and again and again is driving you over the edge into an oblivion that he follows you into because he meant what he just said.

You revel in the weight of his body collapsing against yours while he paints the walls of your cunt with his cum. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him tucked deeply inside of you. Your hearts beat loudly against each other, a heady drum of confessions and more.

You peck Dorian once, twice when your mind clears, trying to pull him from the stupor your cunt has put him in. He’s never felt like this before, never had sex this good. Even when you’re spewing fire at him, he’s wanted this, wanted you from the moment he set those sapphire eyes on you.

And now he has you.

#azsazz #dorian havilliard #dorian x reader #dorian smut #azsazz kinktober 2023 #throne of glass #tog #dorian throne of glass #dorian/reader

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osamucide · 2 months ago

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DAZAI HCS! ⊹

LAST UPDATE: OCT 10

cw: talk of mental illness and substance use/abuse, speculation about Dazai’s f’ed up past+trauma, Dazai-typical references to suicide, references to self harm, probably a lot of projection on the author’s part

reid: i feel like yapping about Dazai tonight so here’s a non-exhaustive list of general headcanons i have about him. no word count because i’ll probably update this periodically lol

he does not listen to music from this century. he just doesn’t. not that he goes out of his way not to, he’s just drawn to a certain sound that only older music seems to have—I think The Smiths, Blondie, Tears For Fears, The Smashing Pumpkins, King Crimson, and Led Zeppelin are among his favorite artists

I think he also really enjoys classic jazz/blues/bebop music—Charles Mingus, Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, etc.

he’s anemic. I’m of the firm belief that Kunikida buys him a 100 ct bottle of iron tablets every 100 days which Dazai always graciously accepts. however, he only actually takes them when he gives enough of a shit to (which is not often) so the bottles are just accumulating on his bathroom sink/in the cupboard beneath

nail biter, cuticle picker, hair twirler, thigh bouncer, etc. I don’t think he really sits still unless it’s absolutely necessary

children love him, much to his dismay. they think he’s entertaining. he thinks they’re like puppies (and he canonically hates dogs). he won’t treat them badly, but he’s just not super interested in interacting with them. unwilling older brother vibe when faced with them. shithead kids can stoke his rage much faster than Chuuya ever could

he cannot take care of a fucking plant. has one succulent in his apartment. it’s surviving out of pure unadulterated spite. he hasn’t watered it in over a year

wearer of funky socks. his favorites are either the ones that say "I love my job ha ha just kidding" or the custom ones Yosano got him as a gag gift one year for white elephant at the office christmas party (they have Kunikida’s rage face on them)

really sad that, despite his criminal record being scrubbed clean, he is still banned from driving in the nation of Japan for the rest of his life because he wants a Ford Explorer so bad

PROFOUNDLY SOUND KNOWLEDGE OF MEDICAL TERMINOLOGY

he’s fluent in Japanese and English, proficient in French and Italian, and learning Russian

I think he also enjoys learning math/researching random shit/reading anything he can in his free time when he feels up to it. he never received a formal education and his IQ is through the roof—his yearning for academia is almost like an itch he has to scratch every once in a while. also, he just likes knowing things

he never learned how to ride a bike. wahhhh wahh

BPD king. look at him. my beautiful princess with a disorder. I doubt he’s diagnosed but he strongly suspects it seeing as he’s so self-aware; if not borderline, he just assumes he has severe PTSD. either way, he really won’t do anything other than what he already knows about how to manage it

along the same lines—he’s been a functional alcoholic since an alarmingly young age (I’m talking 16-17). I think it probably got a lot worse post-defection when he was underground, but he hardly had to function then anyway; he gets somewhat better after joining the Agency but still has a dependence, it’s just not severe enough to debilitate him

has a bin of art supplies in his apartment. he only ever pulls them out once every few months, but he rather enjoys painting and wouldn’t mind getting better at it

master at darts. don’t take him to a bar where there’s a dartboard. he will stand in front of it all night and obliterate everyone who challenges him

insatiable sweet tooth. he especially loves anything maple, butter pecan, or butterscotch he’s a grandpa

UPDATE.1

I love to headcanon that he has a glass eye!!! and that the bandages around his head in the dark era were some legitimate injury. he likes to pop it out as a party trick/to weird Kunikida out

he feeds the stray cats and kittens that linger around the ADA dorms. he probably spends some of his grocery money on the fancy wet canned food and leaves it out with a big plastic bowl of water. sometimes sits and watches them eat and likes to give them little scratches if they trust him enough to come rub up on his legs. they’re sort of to him as the orphans were to Odasaku, and it makes him feel closer to his deceased friend

on the note of grocery shopping—he only goes when Atsushi or Kunikida drag him along. keeps his list relatively the same from trip to trip: canned crab, cigarettes, bandages, a few cases of beer, sake, instant ramen, ice cream (particularly butter pecan), paper towels, and 3-in-1 shampoo when he needs it. Kunikida forces vegetables upon him (“put it in the ramen so you don’t die of heart disease”) but they almost always end up rotting to mush in his fridge. he steals his toilet paper from the ADA bathrooms/supply closets or bothers Atsushi and Kyoka for spare rolls when he’s out

religiously orders drinks from the cafe on his way in and out of work. on mornings he usually gets a latte with plenty of sugar and some sort of flavor; in the evenings he probably gets an iced flavored tea to mix or chase his sake with when he gets home

always has a pocket knife on him. probably one he got in his mafia days, or, it’s at least a habit/security he picked up from then

takes a lot of night walks. he doesn’t sleep well, so I think he probably wanders out tipsy with his pack of cigarettes in the wee hours of the morning and scuttles around to tire himself out

UPDATE.2

two words: medical trauma. I know some people get iffy when it comes to speculation about what Mori did/didn’t/may/may not have subjected him too as a young teenager (and believe me I have a lot of thoughts) but I definitely headcanon that Dazai was used as a little bit of a lab rat/sedated and coerced to some degree when it came to turning him into a killing machine. as a result, he’s got a fear of medical settings. after his surgery during the cannibalism arc? I know he got that phone back and was like “Tanizaki get me out of here right neow”

I think sweet little old ladies probably love him and he loves them too. always feels like he strikes up the best small talk with them. will help load groceries into their cars for them. he gets all smiley and stuff when they call him “sweetheart” “honey” “dear” or remark how handsome he is and about his hypothetical girlfriend must be so lucky

he can throw knives with pinpoint accuracy from a pretty impressive distance. he’s a little less accurate with his handgun at long range/with moving targets but HE’S GETTING BETTER

has like a 3.5 ft vertical jump at his best. like why are you a detective when the Lakers need a center

#bsd dazai #bsd osamu dazai #dazai hcs #dazai headcanons #bsd headcanons #bsd hcs #reid speaks.ᐟ #with love—reid

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thelazybard · 6 months ago

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idk if you do modern AU, but it could be really cool like a modern au of the clones from Bad Batch + rex and cody in like university. what would they study, what hobbies, what would they wear! idk

or maybe like in the y/n s/o perspective how they would help them study through finals and midterms?

love ur writing 🫶🫶🫶

I love university AUs sm ughh

Modern!The Bad Batch +Rex +Cody x GN!Reader: The boys as university students

Rex:

Style: Athleisure for sure. Something presentable enough to attend class in but also hit up the gym in after. The same sneakers almost every day, and his gold chain.

Major: Philosophy

Study dates: In his dorm when Cody is out. You both fit into his twin bunk and quiz each other with flash cards.

Cody:

Style: Done up, slacks and a sweater every day for sure. I imagine him in brown loafers and gold jewelry.

Major: Engineering

Study dates: Out at a cafe with free wifi. He prefers outdoor seating so the two of you can have a bit more privacy while also enjoying nature, but he won't subject you to that in the winter. You doublecheck his math for him and quiz him on the different formulas he's got to memorize.

Hunter:

Style: Jeans, boots, and a graphic tee of some sort. A denim or leather jacket in the winter.

Major: Forestry/Environmental Science

Study date: Outdoors at campus, usually under a tree the two of you can lean back on. He brings snacks and a blanket each time, and the two of you study for your respective midterms in a comfortable silence until you fall asleep on his shoulder.

Echo:

Style: Similar to Rex's. Athleisure, but more boyish. Graphic tees of his favorite show and Nike sweatshorts.

Major: Biomedical engineering

Study dates: At your dorm because Fives always has a girl over. He tries to focus on studying but ends up getting distracted by the various doodads around your room, which results in you getting the great idea of holding him down and doing your skincare routine on him. No studying gets done.

Wrecker:

Style: He's the guy that wears shorts whether it's warm or not. A black pullover hoodie is a closet staple. (He let's girls borrow it so be ready to argue about that). Socks and sandals 100%.

Major: Sport's Medicine or Physics.

Study dates: In his dorm. He sits at his desk with you in his lap and you make him create/study quizlets. He takes breaks frequently to snuggle and kiss you.

Tech:

Style: Slacks, polo and blazer. Thinks you need to look your best to do your best. Him and Wrecker fuss over each other's styles constantly.

Major: Double majoring in Aerospace Engineering and Computer Science.

Study dates: In the STEM building in one of the many study spaces. He says what he's learned out loud to you to better adhere it in his noggin. He takes you out to ice cream after to make up for the lack of romance during the actual study part.

Crosshair:

Style: Dark academia on days he has a presentation. Rest of the time? Sweatpants and a black shirt. Something he can jump right back into bed in.

Major: I'm sorry but he's so a business major. Actually I'm not sorry.

"Study" dates: You go to his dorm and make out while a business textbook is open nearby. Studying!!

#the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #tbb #tbb x reader #commander cody x reader #captain rex x reader #hunter x reader #echo x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb echo x reader #tbb wrecker #the clone wars #tcw #sw tcw

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heexseung · 1 year ago

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꒰ 💋 ꒱ ┄ ❛ dark academia ；sanguine ❜

* pairing: vampire!heeseung x afab!reader

* tags: smut, mentions of blood, dom/sub dynamics, mild degradation (m. receiving), cunnilingus, handjob (mutual), edging (m. receiving), praise (m. receiving), piv sex, exhibitionism, heeseung's a brat

* summary: heeseung, your lab partner for alchemy, is acting strange over a blood-red potion you both accidentally brew in the evening.

* word count: 6k

* a/n: here you go darlings, hope you enjoy ❤️‍🔥 please have a lovely day !! and if there are any mistakes, please don't hesitate to let me know and i'll fix it <33

The blood-red liquid in the flask stares at you in an almost menacing way and you squint at it in return, wondering what the hell did you do wrong this time. Did you boil it too long? Or maybe you used the wrong ingredients?

No, that’s not possible, you triple checked all the ingredients and the amount before using it. Perhaps you missed a step? Giving out a frustrated sigh, you push your hair back with your hand.

You turn to look at your lab partner, maybe he knows what’s going on but as soon as you do, your breath briefly catches in your throat. Heeseung’s staring at the flask that’s in your hand in a really weird manner.

As the seconds roll by, you watch as his brown doe eyes widen slightly, his pupils dilating, his stare becoming more and more intense. He even licks his lips and takes an audible gulp. It’s as if the potion has him entranced just by existing.

“Heeseung.”

Your voice doesn’t catch his attention so you opt to snap your fingers right in front of his face. In response, he blinks once, then twice, then shakes his head and turns towards you. Giving you a sheepish smile, he apologises for zoning out.

Despite saying so, his eyes go back to staring at the flask in the same weird manner again after you put it down on the flask rack. It makes you feel confused, what is this potion?

Wanting to find some answers, you start searching through your alchemy textbook. Too occupied to pay attention to your surroundings, you don’t notice what Heeseung’s doing until it’s too late. When you do notice, he’s already got his hand on the flask and is now drinking the potion.

“Heeseung, wait, no!”

Quickly grabbing the flask away from him, you start nagging at him, “Are you crazy? What’s wrong with you? You can’t just be drinking any potion that you see, we don’t even know what this is!”

But his eyes are spaced out and you’re pretty sure that he’s a goner, not even here anymore. A drop of red liquid trails down from the corner of his mouth to his chin and he doesn’t even bother to wipe it away. He just keeps on staring at the damn flask in your hand.

Because of the way he’s acting, you’re prompted to throw the whole potion inside the sink in front of you. You hear him whine as the last drop of potion disappears into the drain.

“Goddamn, I know you’re a vampire and all but come on, don’t you have any self-control? When was the last time you feed?”

As soon as you’re done dumping the contents of the flask, you give it a shake, making sure there’s nothing left of the potion. Immediately after, you feel his body slump against you, his head buried in your neck.

Surprised at his sudden action, you take a step back in response, trying to balance yourself and him. Then, gently placing the flask down on the table, you rest your hand on his head while your other hand rests on his shoulder.

You both stay like that for a while, him not doing anything except breathing heavily in your neck and you just wondering why what the hell is going on.

Then, all of a sudden, you feel lightheaded; your heart starts beating faster and there are suddenly butterflies in your stomach. Your knees start getting weak and you have to rest your hand on the table to steady yourself. It’s also getting harder to get your eyes and brain to focus on the situation in front of you.

And then he does something; he licks the side of your neck. That’s when it hits you and you kind of realise what he’s trying to do.

“Are you trying to feed on me?”

Although he doesn’t answer you verbally, his actions tell you his answer loud and clear. As soon as you feel his fangs graze against your neck, you tightly grip his hair and roughly pull his head backwards. That earns you a sharp hiss.

In his dizzied state, he somehow manages to choke out, “Please?”

Feeling sorry for him, you wonder how long he hasn’t been feeding for him to be this desperate. As he looks at you with lustful eyes, you ask him, “Do you want me to call Jay?”

You slowly let go of your grip and continue in a soft tone, “I don’t know what to do in situations like this…”

Heeseung just stares at you intensely and licks his lips in response, most likely focusing all his energy on keeping his seductive trance on you. Closing your eyes, you do your best to control yourself since it’s obvious that it’s up to you to control the situation right now and although it’s hard to resist him, you try.

That doesn’t mean you succeed though. Because the moment he starts whining in your ear, you move him so that he’s the one leaning on the table now. Your lips quickly attach themselves to his and despite his initial shock, he melts into you rather quickly.

Moaning into your mouth, he pulls you in closer to him — so close that your bodies are pressed up against each other. As he lets your tongue ravage his, your heart begins to beats faster and your head begins to get dizzy.

Practically feeling your self-control slipping, Heeseung can’t help but smirk to himself as you start trailing kisses on his neck. He lets out a soft moan when he feels you biting his neck — he can’t help it, vampires are more sensitive than everybody else.

His body rocks into yours and although he really likes what he’s feeling right now, he’s so terribly desperate for some blood and he can’t really keep up his seductive trance on you anymore since it’s draining too much of his energy. So he lets go of his grip on you, not physically though.

Slowly, your senses start coming back to you and you blink as your eyes adjust. Taking advantage of your still dizzy state, he whispers to you in a low tone, “Want to trade?”

Despite still being a bit dizzy, his words pique your curiosity. You hum at him, encouraging him to explain what he means.

“My body for your blood.”

Okay, now you’re really interested. Since you’re back to your normal state, you’re fully aware of what’s going on and fully in control of your actions now. Still, you can’t help but blink at him, a little dazedly, not sure if you heard him correctly or not — not sure if this is just a fragment of your imagination or not.

Does he really mean that he’ll have sex with you just for a bit of your blood? This situation seems absurd to you, especially when taken into consideration how you know that Heeseung doesn’t have sex with just anybody.

It’s obvious because you’ve never once heard anybody talking about how it was like having sex with Heeseung and you’re sure that if someone did have sex with him, they would brag about it to hell. And you can’t blame them because you’d do the same. What can you say? Heeseung’s a really hot vampire.

But maybe your mind is in the gutter and he doesn’t really mean sex — which is a more logical situation. Maybe he just means doing service related stuff like carrying your bag to class or buying you lunch?

Just as you are about to ask him to clarify what he means, he whispers in your ear with the same low tone he used before, “Whatever you want from me.”

“Whatever”… that means…

Yeah, it totally means sex. And just to be sure you got the right message, he looks at you in the eye and continues, “I know you want me. You wouldn’t have been all over me if you didn’t.”

“Now, hold up. I think I should remind you that you used your seductive trance on me.”

He smirks at that. “I mean, yeah but you still wouldn’t have kissed me if you didn’t want me. The trance doesn’t make you do stuff you don’t want to do, you know. It just makes you honest and impulsive… like a truth serum.”

You narrow your eyes on him, contemplating your choices. Truthfully, you’re not much of a fan of getting blood sucked right out of you.

Looking at you with a pleading look, he tries to coax you into agreeing with the trade, “Please? You can have my body. Hell, do whatever you want to me. Just give me a bit of your blood. I’m so thirsty right now, please?”

There are so many questions you’d like to ask him; why you? Why not just get Jay to get him a packet of animal blood? Will it hurt? How much is he going to take? What about the side effects?

As if he can sense your thoughts, he rests his hand on your waist and pulls you in closer, “Come on, please? I’ll be a really good boy for you.”

Sighing, you tell him seriously, “Hee baby, I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

But he’s already shutting you and your thoughts up with a kiss — one that turns heated really quickly. Since he obviously doesn’t know how intense you can be, you’re going to show it to him.

As your tongue goes to explore every inch of his mouth, he lets out a soft moan, not even bothering to fight for dominance. By the time you pull away from him and rest your forehead on his, one of your hands is already palming him through his pants while the other covers his mouth, forcing him to stay quiet.

He can’t help but whine as he slightly grinds into your hand, his breathing heavy and his eyes full of lust. His hands leave your waist — one goes to your wrist (the one that’s palming him), gripping it tightly while the other goes on the table behind him for support. You push your palm against him more and he whines again, throwing his head back.

Bringing your lips close to his ear, you whisper to him, “Are you really that desperate so much that you’re willing to whore yourself out just for some blood?”

Unable to deny, he can only nod and gasp in response, his grip on your wrist tightens.

“So desperate that you’re willing to be my slut, huh?”

You feel him shiver for a bit before he nods again. He stares at you with half-lidded eyes for a while until you finally get the memo that he wants to say something. Letting him speak, you move your hand that was on his mouth to play with the neckline of his t-shirt.

“But like, can we not do it here?”

You laugh at that. “Where then?”

“My room?”

How could you ever say no to this man? You give him a nod in agreement but something crosses your mind — you’re curious about one thing.

“What are you gonna do about this though?” He bites his lip as you say that, his ears turning a soft shade of red as you continue to press your hand against the bulge in his pants.

Quickly taking off his black jacket, you take a step back from him as he ties the arms around his waist. It doesn’t hide much but it’ll do. Besides, you don’t really care much about it. That’s more of a him problem.

“There, let’s go.” Grabbing your hand in his, he starts pulling you to the door but you, being a responsible university student, remind him, “Hee baby, I know you’re impatient but we gotta clean up first.”

He groans at that. Nevertheless, he doesn’t complain and quickly cleans everything up with you.

┄┄┄┄

The walk to his room is quick since it’s quite close to the lab. When you both get there, he asks you to wait outside for a moment. It’s not a big deal for you so you wait outside in the hallway while he does whatever he’s doing, maybe doing some last-minute cleaning.

By the time the door opens again — which isn’t long, a confused Jay steps out. He notices you standing there and you see a spark of realisation in his eyes, the confusion on his face disappears instantly.

“Hey, Jay.”

He smiles at you and just laughs in response, saying he’ll be back at 10 and to have fun. You watch as his silhouette disappears out of your view and by that time, Heeseung’s already pulling you into his room.

Once you’re inside, he traps you against the door, body pressing against yours, his hands on your hips and his thigh in between your legs. His lips immediately meet yours in a fierce and passionate kiss.

It doesn’t take him long before he pulls away from you and starts kissing down your neck. It feels good and you love neck kisses but you know what he’s trying to do.

Keeping your guard up, you run your hand through his hair and grind into his thigh. He starts licking the side of your neck and you don’t know how he’s so good at this, he almost makes you forget, almost makes you drop your guard down with every move of his tongue against your neck.

Fortunately for you, you feel it immediately; the feeling of his fangs against your skin. It prompts you to grip his hair and roughly pull it back. He whines in response. “Be patient. You don’t get a taste of me until you’ve earned it, understand?”

You let go of your grip on his hair as he hums, signalling his understanding of the situation.

“Now get on the bed.”

“What are you going to do if I say no?” He says as he gives you a teasing smile.

Oh? So he wants to be a bit of a brat now, huh?

Well, that’s perfectly fine with you, you’ll put him in his place. Grabbing his hips, you forcefully push and move him back. He stumbles a bit as you guide him to his bed — at least, you hope it’s his bed, it seems like it’s his bed.

Eventually, you push him and he falls into it. Wasting no time, you climb on top of him. Pinning his hands down on both sides of his head, you bring your lips near his ear and say to him, “If you’re gonna be a brat, Heeseung, just know that I make brats cry.”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply to you because you’re already kissing him again, all hot and rough. It makes him hard to keep up with you and eventually he just lets you kiss him like that, your tongue once again exploring his mouth. Your hands push down on his and he laces them together, moaning a bit when he feels you push his hands harder against the sheets.

Pulling away from him, you press your leg against the budge in his pants and start trailing kisses down his neck. When he feels your tongue on his neck, he can’t help but throw his head back as he grinds into your leg. It makes you lose control, he makes you lose control. You just want to ruin him, hear his sweet voice beg for you.

“Fuck, we need a safe word because I want to ruin you so bad you don’t even know.”

It’s when you start biting he starts getting noisy. All his gasps and moans start coming out but he manages to choke out the first word that comes into his head, “Apple.”

“Our safe word is apple?”

Heeseung feels his heart beat faster at that, your words repeat in his head; our safe word is apple? God, he wants to do this again with you and he’s not even talking about sex since you two haven’t even gotten there yet. He just wants to be with you, spend time with you, make you happy, make you feel good. And although it’s obvious that Heeseung’s not the type to have sex just for fun but for you, he doesn’t care. He’d let you use his body any time… because it’s yours anyway, he thinks.

He doesn’t want to scare you off or ruin the moment though, so he keeps his question for another time and tells you, “Yeah.”

“Say it again,” you say as your hand lets go of his and starts palming him.

“A-apple,” he stutters, his head starting to get hazy.

“Good boy.”

He practically melts at your praise. It looks like you just found out one of his kinks. Your mind is already starting to think of ways to use that to your advantage because one thing’s for sure; you’re gonna make him beg. You’re not sure if that’s gonna be easy or hard but that’s what makes it fun.

Sitting up, you straddle him. Your hands move to unbutton his pants but just as you’re about to free his dick, you hear a phone ring. A bit annoyed, you look in the direction where the sound is coming from.

“Undress. By the time I come back, I want you naked,” you say to him as you make your way towards the phone.

He doesn’t even tell you that it’s his phone and not yours, he doesn’t really care either way. Besides, he’s curious about what you’re going to say.

You find the phone on his desk, amongst other stuff including books, pencils and even empty blood bags that you pay no attention to. You put the phone at your ear as soon as you accept the call, not even looking at the caller ID.

The sound of a feminine voice whining captures your attention, “Heeseung baby, finally you picked up my calls! Where are you?”

Feeling a bit weirded out, you look at the phone. You give a quiet chuckle when you realise that Heeseung didn’t even save this person’s number. You’re about to look back at Heeseung until you feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against his naked body.

He feels so good like this — his built chest pressing against your back, his head in your neck, you feel his hard-on against your back too. He’s being a brat again because one of his hands is starting to grope your breasts underneath your shirt while the other starts making its way to your cunt.

“Who is it?” He whispers to you as he plays with your boob, kneading it in his hand. His other hand is already underneath your underwear and he’s rubbing circles against your wet cunt. He’s so good at this too and you let him continue while you return your attention to the person on the other side of the call.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” You ask, not even hiding your heavy breathing.

The person seems outraged, given by their tone of voice when they reply, “Who the fuck are you and why are you answering Heeseung’s phone?”

It makes you want to laugh but before you’re able to do that, Heeseung inserts a finger inside you and starts kissing your neck. His grip on your breast tightens as he pinches your nipple, all the while thrusting his finger as deep as it can go inside you.

You don’t even bother to hide your moan, telling him to keep going, “Yeah, just like that Hee baby. God, you’re doing so good, you feel so good.”

Feeling his dick twitch against your back from the praise that you gave him, he continues his actions with more intensity. You’re sure that he can hear the other person on the line and you’re not sure what their relationship is but you don’t care because right now, Heeseung is yours and you’re gonna make this person know that.

Meanwhile, this person is more than outraged, even more so when you tell her, “Sorry babe, Heeseung’s mine,” and hang up the call. When you finally put down the phone, Heeseung starts speaking.

“Sorry about that, I don’t know her, she’s been stalking me like crazy. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he says in his usual soft tone, worried that you might get the wrong idea.

But you really couldn’t care less. You grab his hands and reluctantly pull them off you. Then, you spin around so that you’re now facing him. He quickly breaks eye contact with you, knowing that he’s gonna get it now for being a brat… and yet he can’t contain the thrill and excitement in him. It makes him smile teasingly at you despite not being able to look you in the eye.

Grabbing his face in your hand, you make him look at you. His breath catches in his throat when he sees the intensity in your eyes. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck and pull him in closer to you. He thought you were going to kiss him but instead you only pull his head closer because you wanted to whisper something in his ear, “Is there any way that I could mark you?”

He bites his lip at that. The thought of you marking him turns him on more than he’d like to admit. He’d love for you to be able to leave marks on his skin and he’d definitely show it off, he doesn’t care who sees, he wants everyone to know that only you can mark him, that he belongs to somebody and that somebody just happens to be you. But alas, there’s not really any way to mark a vampire if you’re human.

“I… I don’t think so,” he tells you softly after thinking about it, “My skin would heal way too quickly.”

Just to be sure, you try it out. Your lips attach themselves to his neck and as you bite hard on it, a loud gasp falls out of his mouth. He doesn’t complain though and albeit you know that you probably shouldn’t take advantage of that, you still do.

So you bite him again, this time, sucking hard on his skin right after. He holds onto you as you do that to keep himself steady, trembling a bit. When you’re done, you pull away to look at it.

Unfortunately, he’s telling the truth. You watch as the bruise you left quickly heals itself, turning a shade of red back to the colour of his skin. In your opinion, it healed itself way too quickly for a vampire who hasn’t fed in like a week… but then again, you’re not a vampire so what do you know?

He notices you pouting and suddenly remembers something, “Um… but there is… scent?”

“Scent?”

“Yeah, scent. Um, a human probably won’t notice it but others would.

That’s true though. Despite being full human, you already know that everyone else’s sense of smell is very sensitive, so sensitive that they can probably smell you on him from miles away. Okay, that’s obviously an exaggeration but yeah, that works… you guess.

“How long does it last?”

“A couple of days, I guess.”

“Is there really no other way?”

“Not unless you’re a vampire too,” he bares his fangs at you with a smile right after he says that.

Hm, fair enough. Deciding to let it go, you tell him to get on the bed as you start taking your clothes off. Surprisingly, he obeys and does so rather quickly with no teasing comments whatsoever. So he can be obedient, you think to yourself. That means he’ll beg.

He sits down at the edge of the bed and watches you strip down. You don’t have to look at him to know that his eyes are hungry, just taking in every single inch of your bare skin. Pulling down your soaked underwear, you finally make your way towards him.

You know he wants you on top of him. That’s obvious, he’s ready to pull you down onto the bed with him but you have other plans. As soon as you’re standing in front of him, his hands go out to touch your waist but you swat them away.

As he looks up at you in desperation, you grip his hair, throw one leg over his shoulder and pull him into your cunt. Like an obedient puppy, he immediately parts his lips and starts eating you out — licking into you, sucking on your clit, lapping at your juices. You can’t help but moan at the sensation of his tongue on your cunt.

It takes him a while to figure out what you like but he eventually gets there. Your grip on his hair tightens and you start panting when he starts tongue-fucking you.

The feel of his hot tongue inside you just drives you insane. It makes you grind against his face. When he pulls his tongue out to swirl it in circles around your cunt, you’re unable to stop yourself from inserting two of your fingers inside you.

The thrusting of your fingers combined with the sensation of his tongue on you drives you to the edge. There’s a knot in your stomach and you can feel your climax approaching.

Heeseung feels it too and he intensifies his actions to help you get there. You pull his face into your cunt and he moans, the vibrations sending you to a frenzy so much that you start rambling, “Damn, you’re so good at this. Keep going, baby. I’m so close. You’re doing so good, you feel so fucking good, my god.”

With three fingers inside you and a final thrust, along with Heeseung sucking your clit, you let out a loud moan when you finally reach your climax.

Your legs start to weaken and for a moment, you’re worried that you might fall but he has you, keeping you steady with his hands on your waist and thigh. He keeps on eating you out as you ride the waves of your orgasm, lapping up all the juices coming out of you.

When you finally get back to your senses, you notice the whole room smells like sex now and you know you have to apologise to Jay later. It seems the smell has intoxicated both you and Heeseung. You see his eyes start getting hazy, no doubt his mind is a bit dizzy too.

You push him down on the bed and press your body against his. Gripping his cock with one hand, you say in his ear, “I was going to punish you for being a brat.”

He moans and bucks into your hand as you start stroking it quickly, “But you’ve been good and you did well. So I guess I’m letting you off this time.”

He whines your name in your ear as you speed up the pace and you continue, “Do you think you’ve been a good boy?”

Throwing his head back and letting out a loud moan, he nods and says, “ Yes.”

You chuckle at that, you know he hasn’t been very good. Recalling that phone call scene earlier, you continue to pump him while your other hand starts playing with his nipples. “Really? I don’t think so though? Remember that phone call scene earlier?”

He drags out a moan, he can’t focus when you’re being like this to him. Deciding to tease him for a bit just like how he teased you earlier, you start leaving bruises on his neck with your mouth — at least, you attempt to.

And albeit your attempt will forever be just an attempt, it’s still fun to see him squirm under you. His every reaction is delicious, every moan, every hiss, the look on his face when your fingers play with his tip, the look on his face when you pinch his nipples, ugh, you just love it.

Eventually, he tells you he’s close and you increase your intensity and pace. Right at the last moment right before he’s about to cum, you stop touching him completely, pulling your hands away from him.

He whines your name loudly at the loss of your touch and his orgasm. Staring at you with half-lidded eyes, his hands beside each side of his head, he breathes heavily as he contemplates what to do.

But before he could do anything, you’re already sitting up. “You got a condom?”

He nods and replies, “Yeah, at the desk.”

“Good, because if you don’t, I would’ve edge you 5 times before I let you cum,” you say as you get off of him and make your way towards his desk.

Hiding the upper part of his face with his arm, he bites his swollen lip and tries to calm himself down because if he doesn’t calm down, he’s going to cum real fast. Being a vampire doesn’t help, nor you edging him because now he’s the most sensitive he’s ever been.

Breathe in, breathe out, he tells himself.

“Here you go.” You toss him the condom.

You watch him put it on as you tell him, “By the way, I threw away the empty blood bags, I don’t know why you didn’t throw them in the trash.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot about them,” he sheepishly replies.

“Clean up after yourself, that’s been there for at least a couple of days, no?”

He looks at you in confusion, but before he can comment on it further, you’re back on top of him. You ask him if he’s ready and he grabs your hips and replies, “Wait, no, I’m so sensitive, give me a minute, please.”

Of course, you don’t listen to him. Instead, you continuously grind your cunt into his dick and relish in the reactions and sounds that he makes. He grinds into you too, his body rocking into yours as he arches his back from the pleasure.

Fuck, he’s not even inside you yet but he can already feel his orgasm coming. He’s so close and his jerky movements and constant moaning are proof of that.

Meanwhile, you, you’re soaking wet again. You want his dick inside you yet you vowed to yourself that you won’t put his dick inside you unless he begs for it. So you keep grinding against him.

Suddenly, you feel his hands grab your hips, you hear him say your name in an exasperated tone. “Please, I’m so close, please.”

It’s so fun watching him like this, all wrecked and desperate, desperate to be inside you, desperate to cum. You can’t help but tease him again, he’s just so cute like this. He brings out the sadist in you.

You don’t stop until his orgasm comes close again. For the second time this evening, you stop him from cumming, lifting yourself off of him right before he was about to cum.

“Shit.”

It’s the first time you hear him swear. Despite swearing, the tone of his voice is still soft like usual. He even manages to make swear words sound soft. It makes you want to hear him swear again but you’ve already been cruel to him enough for the day. You stare at him in slight awe as you let him compose himself for a minute.

When he gets back to his senses, he starts groaning. His hand covers the front of his face again. Just by looking at him, you know that you’ve already broken him so much that he’s just begging non-stop now.

He’s a mess under you as he begs you desperately, “Please don’t do this to me, please, please don’t do this to me, please-”

“Shh… okay, okay, I got you.”

“Please.”

You hum at him as you insert his dick inside you. Moaning at the feeling of him filling you up, you start moving. Your movements are rushed since you don’t want to torture him any longer. Heeseung doesn’t stop begging you, he just gets louder as time goes on, moaning in between pleas every time you thrust into him.

He doesn’t even have the energy to thrust into you anymore so you adjust yourself a bit so that he could hit your g-spot. A couple of thrusts later and the familiar feeling comes to you again, the knot in your stomach — you’re close.

“You’re close?” you ask him.

He nods his head in response, begging you to let him cum and to not edge him again. You kiss him and that shuts him up — well not really because he doesn’t stop moaning, but he does stop speaking.

As your tongue swirls with his, you pinch his nipples one last time and that’s enough to send him on the edge. He arches his back into you and gasps as he finally gets his release. You keep going, helping him ride the waves of his orgasm and soon, you’re cumming too.

Slowing down your movements, you eventually lay on top of him, panting in his ear. Heeseung’s arms wrap around you, he’s panting too and still has a dazed just-been-fucked look on his face.

Closing his eyes and throwing his head back, he says to you in a soft voice, “Thank you.”

It’s obvious that he’s spent and you’re glad you both had a good time. You run your hand through his hair and give him tons of praises, “No, no, thank you for being so good to me. You did so well, such a good boy for me, thank you so much. I’m sorry if I went too far.”

He laughs at that, the laugh you usually hear coming from him — rich and cheerful, like it could light up the whole world. You’ve heard it before, it’s hard to miss it since his laugh is melodic and catches your attention all the time… but you’ve never made him laugh, this is the first time.

Feeling a bit of warmth inside you, you smile at him as he whispers, “It was fun… I enjoyed it.”

Can we do it again later? It doesn’t have to be just this one time. He wants to say that to you but he’s scared that you’ll reject him, scared that he’ll blow his chances. So instead, he bites his lip and keeps his mouth shut.

Suddenly, you remember the deal you two had. “Oh yeah, you can have some of my blood now I guess.”

His laidback teasing personality begins to make its comeback as he smirks at you and says in a teasing tone, “Oh? But I’m full though.”

Looking at him in confusion, you reply, “But weren’t you desperate for some blood earlier? When was the last time you feed?”

“just a few minutes ago, when I got in my room.”

You look at him confusedly, as if looking at him would answer all the questions in your head and would explain everything that you’re not understanding. Sensing your confusion, he continues, “Jay got me some blood packets and I drank them before I let you in.”

Oh. “But the deal?”

Perking up at you, he can’t help his genuine smile when he tells you, “Next time then. I’ll call you when I’m hungry.”

Chuckling at that, you agree with him. After all, he did give you a good time. Plus, you’re not the kind of person to break off a deal when you’ve already had your fill.

You move to get off him but he won’t let you, wrapping his arms around you tighter and whining in your neck. “Stay with me… unless you got somewhere to be?”

“It’s getting dark.”

“I’ll walk you home.” A moment of silence passes by and he continues, “Please?”

How can you say no to this man? Especially when he’s giving you such a pleading look with his cute doe eyes. You nod at him and let him pull you back into him. Despite his built body, he feels really soft — just like his personality, and you relax into him as time goes by, enjoying the moment you have left with him before Jay comes back.

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #heeseung smut #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung #kpop smut #sub!enhypen #sub!idol #dom!reader #college au #vampire #supernatural au #sub!heeseung #sub enhypen #sub heeseung

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mitsua · 5 months ago

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Ineffable infatuation

Summary: Barbatos past self, saw his future self with an amazing being by his side while using his power on accident, what is this feeling he's had ever since for them?

This is my apology for the last Barbatos fic that I did not finish (do you want me to though?) and I'm extremely proud of how it came out, I love this man so much

I highly recommend reading it while listening to "After Dark" by Mr. Kitty

Warnings: mentions of dizziness, wars between Demons and Angels, screams of agony, repressing feelings, a Demon being seen as a God (very brief, don't come at me, it's for the story's sake), some spoilers (? I don't really consider them spoilers 'cause it's all on OM's SWD? original and early story...)

Genre: angst to romance (bittersweet) Pairing: Barbatos x MC

Series: Obey me! SWD? & NB! Words' count: 1.52k

Barbatos found himself in what could be described as the beginning of a new era in the land he's just arrived to, barely recalling anything from whatever could have brought him here.

Who was he to begin with?

He looked up and down, feeling his body for the first time, adapting to its strange movements and finally, he started walking successfully.

It was all unknown to him, even more when he heard his own voice for the first time as he looked up and admired the endless starry sky above him. It was so beautiful—What was everything he was feeling just now?

He glanced down once again, noticing the fauna surrounding him. There were a couple of strange creatures to him, they were looking at him... he didn't know what to do.

Even less when a certain group of black little cloud-looking things came flying to him, his arms and hands moved by their own and without knowing he created something in front of him.

The little D's gang stopped on their tracks when they saw a peculiar oval-shaped thing glowing, more voices could be heard from it.

Barbatos could see everything. He saw it.

Atleast, until he saw you.

After several minutes of complete silence excepting some really rushed sounds from creatures they didn't know about, the glowing, flashy thing dissapeared.

Barbatos stood still, processing everything he's witnessed. He just used magic—as all his events have made him learn. He was catalogued as a Demon, he just landed on what will be the Devildom one day, he'll meet countless people.

Countless until he finally meets you.

That was the moment he pictured the most now that the only light there was in that bare world was the moon's.

He could remember feeling a certain way once you spoke to him for the first time, asking who he was at that classroom from the Royal Academia of Diavolo—whom he'll someday come to serve with all his might.

Still, he could not adress what the feeling was though.

He could not wait to come face to face with you, he had to do something, anything—no, he was only beginning to understand everything but if one thing he got clear from this experience was just how powerful he was.

To put it plainly, he could easily change anything from the timeline he wasn't pleased with. Anything.

So, he knew that even if he was craving to encounter you as soon as possible, he shouldn't, he would regret it even.

His last vision was you, you made him lose his concentration for a second so the portal he created vanished into thin air. He knew how to make it appear once again now, however, chose against.

If he got to see you once more, he knew he wouldn't think twice and get with you. What was wrong with it? A little voice asked on his mind.

Thus, instantly provoking a downpour of timelines he's just witnessed fall apart from his mistakes pop up everywhere, making him feel dizzy for a second and crouch down to take a hold of his head and heart which pulsed painfully.

The little D's did not comprehend a single thing that just happened, but after taking a glance to one another, they agreed that the creature infront of them seemed unharmful and flew to its side to aid in any way they could.

A couple grabbed one of his arms, a couple more the other and the last three gathered around his head, were they could see his face contorting in any way that made them all think he was not doing great.

One last look to a blue-horned one from the other six made them start chanting some noises they've learnt help to cure aches from experiences they've gone through on their few days alive in that wild environment.

Which then again, they didn't really know could be counted and only thought the night had no end nor beginning, so didn't mind it that much.

The following minutes were filled with unharmonied babbles coming from the seven little D's and slowly but surely, a light rainbow-colored glow and breeze enveloped Barbatos upper body, its appearance making his agony subside.

Barbatos stood up, feeling what he could express as painless with his lack of vocabulary for the moment, when in reality he felt even fresher than when he first blinked to his new life.

He bowed his head to the black creatures around him, trying to make them understand he felt... "grateful? yes, that's the right word."

The little D's assembled in a line infront of the man, excitedly screaming and making a face mirrored to Barbatos'.

He was smiling, for the first time in this new life, in his new life—his life—he smiled.

Right then and there he understood that he must take every step seriously if he wanted to achieve all the good and great things he saw moments ago.

More specifically, if he wanted to meet up with everyone he now knew the faces of, those who have made such feelings stir inside him that he could still not name, but he cared deeply from now on.

Barbatos began with a journey that he knew had an ending, one he didn't know about, but preferred it stayed that way for as long as possible. He only had on mind the day he'd make contact for the first time with you.

He saw the first Devildom's ruler arrive to the desert land, he was witness of the first encounter with other race they had, they proclaimed themselves as 'Angels'.

He heard the first cry for help of a demoness being shoot by a spear when the first conflict between those two races began.

He was known for millennia as the first magic user and the most powerful being who had ever stepped that cursed land that 'only Demons could reside.'

He was known as a God for sometime, a Deity who had to be praised in order to receive blessings in your life while he had gone on his first trip to the human world for a couple of centuries to get to know more about them, leaving the little D's in charge of everything oblivious to the fame he had made of himself.

That's when humans caught a glimpse of him and started the rumours of 'ungracefully-looking being', 'monstruously-looking being' and more so that he learnt the magic to make his demonic appearance look more human-alike and be able to blend in.

Nevertheless, he was both impressed and bothered by the fact that those rumours did nothing but spread further until the whole world got to now about the 'cursed beings being able to disguise themselves and come curse them to death or even trick them to eat their souls.'

Barbatos came back when he got to know that the latest Devildom's King had an offspring, only then did he remember once again those filled with pure curiousity amber eyes staring right at him when he first used his powers millennia ago.

He had to be there, be there when Diavolo first took charge of the Devildom himself once his father fell in a seemingly-endless sleep, he's sworn loyalty to him centuries ago, he couldn't and wouldn't want to back down.

As years went by his side, Barbatos got to experience tons of instants that he felt his heart swell with pride, greed, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony and sloth—just as the avatars that he knew and slightly feared were extremely close to meet him and his master for the first time ever.

The Celestial War came. A bloodshed was spent, an eternity seemed to pass while he could hear and recall all those pained screams from his companions being butchered by those who called themselves 'merciful' that made his blood boil and almost lose control. He knew better than to lose it, he knew this would happen sooner or later—he had to accept it—he had to accept he could not save everyone he cared for.

Following the 'most traumatizing events' as he'd decided to aknowledge it all as, Diavolo kept his word and continued with the Royal Academy of Diavolo foundation, which the latter promised one day would hold creatures from all three worlds.

Barbatos got to know each and every emotion he thought he would feel in his whole life, yet once he saw you, physically present infront of him, he discovered there were many more he's kept hidden in his heart just from this moment on.

You, who had held his sanity for as long as he's seen you that first time from a magically-created screen that—even if he felt something deep inside him then—once he got to talk to you made it bloom and he could finally name it.

He was in love.

All the time, all his time was about you, and now, he planned on not letting any more of this precious moments go to waste and make you his. Because Barbatos, as much loyalty he'd pledged to Diavolo, has—since the beginning of time—been yours always.

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misc-obeyme · 7 months ago

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Thinking about a human world au again…

If Beel is a farmer, he has a lot of property out in some rural area, right? A place with almost no light pollution…

So Belphie’s an astronomer & lives in an observatory on Beel’s property, sleeping all day & looking up at the sky all night. He’s up on all the latest research in astrophysics, but doesn’t actively contribute himself. He discovered a small planet & he’s famous in the community for this. Gets regular grants from the local university so he can continue his “research.” Nobody bothers to look too deeply into whether or not he’s actually doing anything with it. They like to give it to him because it makes them look good. But also… Satan is a professor at the university & all he has to do is look menacingly at the grant people to keep Belphie getting those funds.

Belphie spends a lot of time with Beel (obviously) & especially loves to take naps with the dairy cows in the fields or in the barn.

Every once in a while, he’ll attend some university conference usually because Satan drags him to them.

I want Satan to have dark academia vibes, so he gets to be a professor. Of… something. History maybe? Something where he has to spend a lot of time with books. Lots of books.

Now while they all live in the same city/area, I think Satan & Asmo have their own place together near the university. I just like the idea of them being roomies.

They have multiple cats. Any time Satan brings home too many strays, Asmo gathers some of them up & brings them to Beel’s farm. Satan doesn’t mind cause he knows they’ll be looked after & he can go visit them whenever he likes.

Satan also dabbles in rare book dealing & has a shady network of rare booksellers.

#just some thoughts #I kinda wanna make Asmo a therapist #I think he’d be good at it #plus these human versions of them probably aren’t as influenced by their sins #late night nonsense posting #obey me #obey me au #misc human au #misc rambles

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boozenboze · 1 year ago

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Helloooo I hope you're well. I was wondering if I could request a fic (or hcs, whichever you feel like) with any 141 characters for a male reader who has kind of a dark academia aesthetic??? Like he dresses like an English teacher and is chronically sleep deprived, maybe works at a bar

Thank you for your time:), have a good day/night

TF!141 x Male reader who has a dark academia aesthetic(Headcannons)

Females, She/Her or She/They DNI

Soap

Loves your style, thinks it fits you well

Tries to throw in other colors to your outfit that don't match

Likes to bother you when you're reading

Common occurrence when he'll plop down next to you and begin sketching with you in his notebook

Will carry you to bed if he finds you hunched over asleep on the desk

Will read some of your writing and praise you with how poetic your writing is

Has attempted to use your calligraphy pens before....never again

Likes to stare at your hands when you clean a shot glass, it just does something for him

Price

Appreciates the vintage aspect of your style

He's old school what'd you expect?

If ya'll wear the same size clothes, expect him to be wearing some of your clothes.

If your room has that..good oldish smell expect him to be in your room often

Will sit down with you as you write or draw

Expect him to take advantage of the amount of books in your room

Will visit the bar that you're working at just to talk before your shift ends and ya'll go home together

Really good at calligraphy, and often uses the pen to fill out paperwork

Ghost

He's...not extremely interested, but finds it interesting nonetheless

Has stood in the middle of your room just looking at all the darker toned color

Your style and vibe gives him an odd since of comfort and he enjoys that

Will pick up some of your sculptures and mini statues at random

Expect some of them to go missing after he leaves when he called back to the field

If you fall asleep while doing something, expect to wake up on the couch or beside him reading one of your book

May even read your poetry if he's up to it

He will only be served by you when he's on leave and goes to the bar with the rest of the 141

Gaz

Borrows some of your books

Suprisingly interested in the arts and literature

You remind him of one of his old teachers back when he was in high school. Not in that way

If he sees your tired he'll guide you to your shared room and cuddle with you

Similar to Ghost your vibe is just comforting to him,

When on leave, he'll borrow a lot of your clothing

It's stylish ya can't blame the man

Will visit you at the bar, whether he's with the 141 or not, and just stay there till your shifts over

#male y/n #gay #mw2 x male reader #male reader #captain price x male reader #gaz x male reader #lgbtq #cod x male reader #ghost x male reader #soap x male reader #headcannons

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doumadono · 7 months ago

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Babyyyyy! Congratulations 💙🧡💙🧡 I am so happy to see you thrive 💗

Can I get some mint and raspberry ice-creams served in a cone, with some maple syrup on top? 😚 (pro hero au with pro hero Dabi)

Warnings: smut w/o plot, fem!reader, pussy fingering/eating, p in v, dom!Dabi

A/N: thank you very much for your support, sweetheart! I hope you enjoy these headcanons ♥

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST • MY HERO ACADEMIA Pro hero Dabi - headcanons • PRO HERO DABI & INTERN!BAKUGO

Dabi, the renowned pro hero, returns home after a day of saving lives and battling villains. His muscles are tense, his spirit is high, and his desire is burning like the blue flames that dance at his fingertips as he get inside his spacious apartment. His eyes are dark and tired at first, but there's a spark that ignites as soon as he looks at you, his lips curling upwards in a wry grin.

You've been waiting for him for hours, eager to provide some much-needed relief. You missed your boyfriend oh so much.

Dabi's strong hands grip your waist, pulling you close. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

You can taste the smoky remnants of his quirk on his tongue as it dances with yours. Your hands reaching up to grip his broad shoulders. You break the kiss, panting. "Touya," you breathe, your cheeks flushed.

"Yes, darling?" Dabi's fingers trace the hem of your shirt. He smirks, knowing how much you love it when he takes control. He tugs the fabric up and over your head, exposing your lacy bra. Dabi's gaze lingers on your body, and you feel a thrill run through you.

You rub your thighs together to ease the tension and wetness building within your pussy. "I-I want you," you stammer, your cheeks flushing with desire as you ran the tip of your tongue over your upper lips to moisture it.

He palms your breasts, teasing your nipples through the lace. "Oh, I know you do," he says, his voice dripping with confidence.

You gasp again, arching into his touch. "Touya…"

Dabi's mouth finds your neck once more, leaving a trail of hot kisses that make you tremble. He continues his exploration, slowly unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor. Touya's fingers pinch and roll your nipples, eliciting a moan from your lips. His other hand travels down your body, reaching the waistband of your pants. He deftly unbuttons them and pulls them off, leaving you in nothing but your lace panties. Dabi's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you. He hooks his fingers into your panties, leans forward and kisses you roughly, pushing his tongue in your mouth as he tugs the panties down, letting them pool at your feet.

You step out of them, feeling vulnerable.

Dabi's hands explore your body, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touch. One of them slips between your thighs and he growls lowly. "Fuck, doll, you're dripping," he claims, bringing his hand up to his lips, licking his index and middle fingers off your juices. He lifts you up effortlessly, like you weighted nothing, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom. He lays her down on the bed, his eyes raking over your body hungrily. He removes his own clothes, revealing his muscular form.

Touya positions himself between your legs, his fingers tracing the wetness between your thighs. He teases your entrance, making you squirm with anticipation. He takes his time, enjoying the power he holds over you in this moment, kissing all over your tummy and gradually coming down. Finally, Touya's mouth descends upon your aching core. His tongue flicks and teases your clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. He doesn't shy away from sucking your lips into his mouth.

You cry out, gripping his snow-white, spiky hair as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. "O-Oh! Touya!"

Just as you're about to reach your peak, Dabi pulls away, leaving you gasping for more. He smirks, knowing the torture is part of the fun. He slowly pushes one finger inside, then another, stretching you in preparation for what's to come while his tongue flicks your clitoris.

You moan and arch your back, the sensation of his fingers combined with the anticipation driving you wild. "Oh, God!" You whine, rolling your head back to the pillow. "Fuck me already, tiger, I can't wait any longer," you beg, your eyes glistening with tears. "I don't want to come yet, please!"

He likes to take his time to play with you. He loves seeing you whining so pathetically, practically begging for his cock to be stuffed in your little cunt. When Dabi deems you ready, he positions himself above you, his turquoise eyes locked on yours. He smirks, his hand reaching down to grip his cock. He guides it to your entrance, rubbing it against your wet pussy. "Fuck, you're so wet," he groans, his hips thrusting forward. With one powerful thrust, he enters you, filling you completely.

You cry out, the feeling of him inside you overwhelming.

Dabi begins to move, his strokes deep and steady. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you cling to him, desperate for more.

"More, more more…" you plead desperately.

Dabi's hand finds your clit, rubbing small circles as he continues to pound into you. "You like that, don't you?" he growls, his hips thrusting harder.

The combination of sensations is too much, and you find yourself teetering on the edge of release. "Yes, yes, yes," you chant, your body moving in sync with his.

"Come for me then," Dabi growls, his voice low and commanding. A frown crosses his forhead as his cock throbs painfully, so ready to spill his seed deep within you. Soon, his own release is triggered by the feel of you tightening around him rhythmically.

With a final thrust of his, you shatter, crying out his name as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you; your pussy clenches around his cock making it impossible for him to pull out.

Finally, Touya collapses onto the bed, his body spent.

You curl up against him, your body still trembling. "Welcome back home, handsome," you whisper, your eyes fluttering closed.

He smiles, his arm wrapping around you, slowly rubbing the curve of your waist. "Thanks for such a warm welcome."

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thedensworld · 1 year ago

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Post Magazine | K.Mg

Pairing: Photograper!Mingyu x Actress!Reader

Genre: fluff

Words Count: ±700

Summary: It was an honor for Mingyu to collaborate with a well-known magazine. But this job made him realize that love at first sight is real.

Mingyu's got a face that screams "bad boy," and he's given up trying to argue otherwise. He's got that classic playboy look, and an occupation of playboy, a photographer, no less! So, when he tries to convince people he's got an old soul and a sentimental side, they just give him the side-eye. Mingyu's decided to let his looks do the talking, after all, it's all about that first impression, right?

He's snapped shots of so many celebrities, and they all ooze glamour and charisma. Last time, he was working with Cha Eunwoo, an idol-actor who's now a buddy thanks to being the same age. But there's been zero post-work chit-chat with any of his models, except for Eunwoo. So, it raised an eyebrow when he waltzed up to the editor asking for your digits.

"I'll pass along her management's info," the editor said, conveniently hiding the fact that he's got a bit of a soft spot for you after that last shoot. Okay, maybe it's not just a "bit" anymore, it's a full-blown crush.

It started when Mingyu gets the call that he's in charge of the photo shoot for a rising starlet, Jang Y/n. It's your first time gracing a big-time magazine, so Mingyu tries to do some sleuthing about you. Mostly cast as a villain or a bit unhinged, your online pics aren't exactly flattering. Mingyu's scratching his head trying to figure out what style you'd vibe with.

When the big day approached, Mingyu's armed with a couple of style ideas for your shoot, hoping they'll match your vibe and brand. He's deep in discussion with the editor when your manager shows up.

"Y/n has those magnetic and charismatic aura that makes people think she's a tough . But she's really a soft and timid person," your manager spills the beans, enlightening Mingyu and the editor.

"It'll be good to show the side that people hasn't known about. Let's roll with these," the editor picks out two mood boards, going for dark academia and chic stylings.

And your manager wasn't kidding. You're like a total 180 from the roles you usually play. You're not some evil assassin, psycho girlfriend, or creepy stalker. If Mingyu could describe it, you're just radiant. You step into the studio with a grin plastered on your face, and your hair's practically glowing. Mingyu swears, your eyes are like a novel waiting to be read, and he's itching to turn the pages.

Just the night before, Mingyu decided to check out one of your films - the one where you played the mad stalker. He was blown away by your acting skills, even if you looked more like a scruffy vagabond. And now here you are, dressed to the nines, portraying a powerhouse career woman in front of him. As soon as Mingyu looks through the viewfinder, he sees his future. Love at first sight might be pushing it, but let's just say he's smitten.

"Could you lean in a bit, Y/n?" Mingyu asks, second-guessing if that was the smartest move ever. You lean towards the camera with this sly grin, and Mingyu's heart does somersaults.

Mingyu lets out a dramatic sigh, "Let's call it a wrap." He mumbles and dashes over to the monitor, trying to cool off his racing heart. And this is just the first outfit; there are four more to go.

"Is everything alright?" You ask the crew as you step onto the set with your last outfit. "I've never worn something like this before," you admit. Mingyu shoots you a reassuring smile, "You look stunning, absolutely stunning," he assures you.

The rest of the crew is in awe, and you playfully cover your face as if you're blushing. But Mingyu, with his photographer's eye, spots a genuine flush of pink on your cheeks and ears. Maybe he's got a touch of it too, but he's too busy being in awe of your beauty to care.

"It would be amazing if you could strike a pose like Ma Jooahn," the assistant director suggests, referring to one of your past roles as a ruthless assassin. You slip right into character. Your eyes shoot daggers, your smile vanishes, and you look ready to take on the world.

"I'll just pretend there's a pesky fly to squash right here," you mutter while turning to your right, earning a laugh from the crew.

"I wanna be that fly," one of the crew members chimes in, making you burst into laughter and breaking character. Mingyu shakes his head, looking at the monitor beside him; his weakness is a woman with wit and grace. You seem to have both in spades.

"You're absolutely smitten, buddy." Eunwoo clinked his can against Mingyu's, chuckling at his friend's infatuation with you. For almost an hour, Mingyu's gaze hadn't strayed from your portrait.

"Come on, focus on your work," Eunwoo urged, playfully nudging Mingyu, who seemed a bit unsteady.

"I am!" Mingyu retorted, gesturing to his laptop, where he was diligently editing photos from your previous shoot. "Staring is also part of my job," he added with a smirk.

Eunwoo let out a dramatic sigh. "There's something you should know about her," he began, catching Mingyu's attention.

Mingyu's brow raised, then quickly furrowed. "What?" he inquired.

"Does she have a boyfriend?" Mingyu interjected, curiosity evident in his voice.

Eunwoo shrugged. "I'm not certain," he admitted. "But there's some gossip that floating around the actors."

Mingyu fixed Eunwoo with a steady gaze, silently urging him to continue.

"She's a mom," Eunwoo dropped the bombshell.

Mingyu's head drooped, disappointment evident on his face. "So what if she's a mom? Is she a widow? That just makes her even hotter, honestly! Ack—" Mingyu began to enthuse before Eunwoo playfully smacked his head.

"Come on! Seriously! I personally haven't worked with her, but some actors say she has a kid, or that she's often busy taking care of them, which might be why she hasn't taken on lead roles. But, i'm not sure either," Eunwoo explained, offering the tidbits he'd gathered.

Mingyu scoffed, "If you're not sure, don't spread it around."

Eunwoo rolled his eyes, a little surprised by Mingyu's strong reaction.

"You've got it bad, my friend," he teased, shaking his head.

After a few weeks, what was once a rumor turned into a nightmare for Kim Mingyu. Dispatch, a popular Korean media outlet, released photos of you with your daughter. Some of the pictures were taken in front of a daycare, park, and even a hospital. Mingyu isn't happy seeing your privacy violated by the media, especially as you're gaining more fame. But what Mingyu despises the most is that the pictures are real, with zero editing.

There are two possibilities:

1. You have a secret husband.

2. You're a widow with a child.

Mingyu is perfectly fine with the second possibility. He believes he's good with kids and loves the idea of being around them. But the first possibility? Dang, It hits Mingyu like a punch in the gut. After nearly a month of being your biggest fan, he can't believe he has to remain just a fan. He hasn't even mustered the courage to call you. His heart shattered before he could offer it to you.

Didn't Mingyu mention he's a very sentimental person? Oh yes, he certainly did.

"I'm sorry. Did I hear you correctly?" Mingyu asked during a phone call to the other person.

"We noticed you worked with Y/n on her last photoshoot sessions, so she might be comfortable with you," the other person, a representative from your management, explained to him.

Mingyu shook his head, "No, I mean... Did I hear... So, Y/n wants me to be the photographer for her release?"

"Yes, Mingyu. She believes in you for this release, and we want the best for her and her daughter."

Mingyu was left speechless after receiving the phone call. He immediately cleared his schedule for you after the call ended. He still remembered the tone of your management team as they stated, "We want to release a statement regarding the spreading rumors about our artist, Jang Y/n. She personally recommended you as the photographer. You know, the rumor is pretty sensitive for her, and the last thing we want is to make her uncomfortable during the photoshoot."

Mingyu couldn't stop smiling once he saw you arrive at the studio with your daughter in your arms. Mingyu guessed she might be 3 to 4 years old. Putting the rumor aside, your daughter is the cutest little human in the world.

"Thank you so much for accepting the request. It means a lot to me, Mr. Kim," you approached Mingyu after putting Jihan, your daughter's name, down.

Mingyu bowed, "No, it's an honor. Thank you so much for trusting me. And you can call me Mingyu, please be casual with me. No formality needed," he said to you and gave you a reassuring smile. Deep inside, he was the one who needed reassurance here, as his heart pounded like crazy.

"We're here today to shoot a beautiful portrait and video for our release. Be careful not to hurt yourself, let's work together for us," the director gave a brief direction before the photoshoot started.

Mingyu took beautiful pictures of you and Jihan. He stood behind the camera as they shot a video of you talking about Jihan, clearing up the misunderstandings.

"Jihan was almost three years old when I adopted her. I used to volunteer at the foster home when I met her, and she was so little. I found out that she's suffering from a physical disability due to harmful substances during her pregnancy."

"There's a long process in adopting her. I had to run a few tests to make sure I was an appropriate adopter, and I was so grateful that it didn't take longer time for me to finally have her."

"I actually didn't want to break this news, but the news broke itself, right? I just want to say that there's nothing wrong with having a kid, whether you're married or not. Everyone has a reason. Doing this interview is also hard for me, but I want to encourage all parents, single parents out there, that having a kid is not a sin but a blessing. And I'm very blessed to have Jihan."

Mingyu smiled as he saw Jihan, who was sitting behind you, playing with Legos. She now approached you to show you her Lego creation. "That's amazing, baby." His heart melted once he heard you compliment your daughter, completely distracted from the shoot and focusing on Jihan, which spoke volumes about your personality.

Maybe Mingyu's weaknesses boil down to three things: witty women, graceful women, and you.

He'll start by making a move toward Jihan. She mentioned his height earlier, expressing a desire to be held by him. He's all in! If Jihan wants to call him "dad" immediately, he's a goner.

He's definitely going to ask you out after this.

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