#maybe i'm too interested and simply way too eager

[g0thsoojin]

🐶

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 who took a sudden interest in you once you moved to your new place. Finding this place was relatively easy and the rent was dirt cheap. The previous owner was also beyond eager to be rid of this property as soon as he possibly could be. His demeanor when he was showing you around the place was incredibly odd, not to mention that it made you feel jumpy. He was constantly toying with his hands, the sweat he was oh so obviously trying to hide had already created massive puddles all over his white button up, he even tried putting on some cologne and lighting some incense but nothing worked. You decided not to comment and chose to only follow him around, asking him the most basic questions anyone could think of. At the end of the tour the man had turned fully towards you, a big grin suddenly on his face as he raised his arms slightly upwards in a dramatic gesture.

"I'm sure you'll be very comfortable here. Take these keys - welcome to your new home!"

And with that, he was out the door and gone into the night. Holding the metallic key in your hand you closed the door shut and took one last look around the place for the evening. Unfortunately, you were in no position to turn down a place so cheap. It was this or the streets. It'll only be a few months, you had said to yourself.

What could possibly go wrong?

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who had been following you around the moment you stepped foot into the place. At first he did nothing but observe as he needed to get used to you, his new roommate. It was enjoyable watching you live out your mundane life, cooking, cleaning and the sorts. He was also interested in your possible hobbies - did you read? Write? Paint? Play an instrument? He has been dead for quite a while now and staying dead can get very tedious and outright boring. He always got a little kick out messing with the owners of this place but there were times when he would go overboard. With a scoff, those thoughts were banished from his mind almost immediately.

It's not as though he was here completely alone. There were... others. Hiding in the shadows. Some more dangerous than others. The rest were human souls such as he was, unable to pass onto the other side. They weren't as proactive as he was as they were not too keen on the living.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who starts leaving you little clues and hints around the house. Old books that you couldn't possibly own, newspapers which dated all the way back to his era. A broken glass here, a suspicious handprint there. He particularly enjoyed praying on you while you occupied the bathroom. Don't get him wrong, he was no pervert! Heavens no!

... Maybe he was a little. No need to worry, it's not as though he can act out on any of his urges anyway.

But there was just something so vulnerable to see you so exposed, so completely alone in your element. There was no one else who could see you like this (he always laughed a little at your cluelessness). Your image was etched into his memory like a record that played over and over, if he had the ability to paint you, he would.

Watching became tedious though. He wanted and needed more.

Even in death, he was still just a man.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who was trying to get you to talk to him. By simply calling out to him was enough, at least at the start. There was an old ouija board hidden beneath an old bed and it was the perfect means of communication.

He just wished there were other, more safer options than that. He knew all too well that if a person was not careful they could summon something else completely.

That was how he got into this mess into the first place.

That thing would also catch wind of things. He couldn't allow that. Feelings he hasn't felt in decades started to come flooding back but they were even stronger than they ever were in life. Panic, fear and worry - they were all consuming and nothing could ease his mind. Even as he stood at the foot of your bed and watched your chest rise up and down, up and down, there was still no peace for him. He was bitter at your liveliness and your ability to breathe but at the same time, the softness of your cheeks and the song of your laughter became addictive, dare he say like a drug. He wasn't too fond of the fact that other people came over so often, that was not fair.

It was supposed to be just you and him! Even if you didn't know it yet!

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 who amps up the hauntings and starts becoming more aggressive. He is sick and tired of these games, he wants you all to himself. Windows are forced open and shut, books and other objects start flying off shelves in the dead of night and you even manage to catch a glance of him one evening in the bathroom mirror.

You tried running out the door, barely even dressed but he had locked all of the door beforehand.

His voice could be heard tandem echoes, all teasing and petrifying. He wasn't sure if he wanted you alive or dead anymore.

He just wanted you to stay.

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️THREE

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO THREE FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN

He finds out the girl he picked up on a whim is the perfect candidate. So innocent, so submissive already, with just the right amount of Daddy issues. But she still has a lot to learn, and he's determined to teach her everything.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Sex toys. Fingering. Cunnilingus. Orgasm denial. Oral sex/deepthroating. Anal play. Creampies. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 4.9k

TWO 🟥 THREE 🟥 FOUR

He's surprised how quickly she adjusted to her new surroundings, to the things he's asked of her, forced on her. Maybe she's still feeling the after-effects of the drug he's given her last night, maybe she doesn't understand the situation just yet, maybe she's simply the perfect candidate for this. To stay here, for him. She's barely putting up any fight, only seems embarrassed most of the time, but the way she's sucked him off has shown him how eager she really is.

Even though she still has a long way to go. Too fucking innocent.

She's that little ball of hair and limbs on his lap, curled up, melting into him, small hands that have been around his cock now gripping his shirt. Feet tucked under his thigh, deep little breaths against his chest. It's been only a few hours, and she's already so submissive. He's almost disappointed he didn't get to break her first. But maybe her defiance is yet to come. He's certainly looking forward to it.

His phone chimes on the coffee table, and he throws a quick look at the display. The courier is here. Good. Without a word, he stands, picking her up effortlessly. She hums against him, leans into him as he carries her into the bedroom. When he puts her down on the bed, leaning over her for a moment, he meets her hooded eyes. So pliant, so innocent. He can't help but lean down further to press his lips to hers.

She melts into the mattress as he pushes her deeper, putting his weight on her, elbows on either side of her shoulders as he gives himself a few minutes of a bit more much-needed pleasure before he has to leave her. She's hesitant at first, but as soon as he slips his tongue between her lips, her own jumps into action. A groan escapes him as she kisses him back with more and more confidence. His fingers dig into her hair, their tongues wrestling, his cock stirs back to life against the fabric of his pants.

He leans back abruptly, breathing a little harder, the girl beneath him panting as well, her lips parted and red, glistening. Her eyes on him. “I gotta take care of something,” he tells her quietly. She only blinks. “Be a good girl and wait here for me, okay?” The way her pupils dilate when he calls her that makes his stomach tense up. He's noticed it before, how she reacts to his praise. It's an intoxicating sight.

He crawls off her and stands, looking down at her small frame. White lace was a good choice, accents her innocence perfectly. Those little embroidered flowers barely cover anything, but it's still enough fabric to keep it interesting. She's beautiful, the way she lies in front of him, chest rising and falling, that flutter to her stomach, the little twitch to her thighs as she presses them together and tries to hide her sex. He raises an eyebrow at that.

“While I'm gone,” he says, a smirk growing on his lips, “I have a little task for you.”

He steps towards the nightstand and pulls open the first drawer, randomly picks some of its contents and throws them onto the bed next to her. Her eyes widen when she follows the gesture and stares at the colorful toys. He picks up one of the smaller dildos and braces himself on one arm as he leans over her.

“I want you to be very wet when I come back,” he whispers, gently taking her hand and placing the object onto her small palm. “Understood?”

She still looks at him in shock, and he can already tell she's never used any of the things he's presented her with. Another challenge, another thing he's willing to change. He leans back and looks down at her, head cocked to the side. His eyes narrow slightly when she doesn't reply.

“Understood?” he repeats a little harsher.

A tiny gasp escapes her and she sits up, nodding frantically. “Yes, sir.”

His hand finds her cheek, a gentle caress, thumb running over her bottom lip. He watches her intently. “Good girl.” The shiver that runs through her amuses him immensely. Patting her cheek, he then turns away and leaves her to her own devices.

Returning to his phone, he sends a message to the courier, and minutes later there's a chime on the door. His men are good, and fast, and when he looks through the things in the box that was brought up to his place, he nods in contentment. The things she left in the club, a jacket, a phone, case stuffed with some money, some keys and her ID. He's surprised that she's actually 19, when she looks quite a bit younger. Not that it really matters. His eyes scan her name, memorizing it. Fits her.

There's a folder tucked into the side, all the information they could gather on her, and the more he reads, the wider his smile gets. She is perfect, a random pick, an instinct, and it has still been the best choice. Alone in the big city. He checks her phone, swipes through pictures and messages. There's only one new message, someone congratulating her. Not many social contacts, no Mom or Dad or other relatives. Does explain a few things though. The girl definitely lacked the presence of a proper authority figure in her life, or at least someone who could give her the attention she needs, someone to hug her even, guide her through life, tell her what's right or wrong. No wonder she's so overwhelmed with his advances, yet strangely compliant at the same time.

Daddy issues.

What a perfect little thing that found her way into his clutches. He turns the phone off and puts it back into the box, then locks it securely in the safe in his office, before he focuses on the bag that came with the delivery. Clothes he ordered for her, more underwear mostly, some dresses, shoes. He doesn't plan to take her out much, not yet, so she won't need too many clothes anyway. They're just an illusion of safety for now, something she feels more comfortable in, before he'll take that away as well.

Grabbing the bag, he returns to the bedroom – and freezes. The bed is empty, except for the array of sex toys on the blanket. Untouched, unmoved. And the girl is gone. Something hot rises inside him, his hand tightens around the straps of the bag. He checks the bathroom, also empty. When he opens the door to his walk-in closet, he hears a soft little gasp, before his eyes move down to the far back where she's curled up on her side, wide eyes staring at him from under her lashes.

Like a beaten animal – and he hasn't even done anything to her yet. Not really, anyway.

He puts the bag down on a shelf and approaches her slowly. The dildo he gave her lies in front of her, just as untouched as the rest. She curls up even more, a little ball of hair and limbs, white lace in stark contrast to the dark rug she's lying on. He crouches down, hands resting on his knees as he watches her.

“What are you doing here, baby?” he asks quietly. “Are you hiding from me?”

She sniffles, shakes her head. “No,” she mumbles, wide eyes following his every move. Why is she so skittish all of a sudden? The drugs probably wore off. Poor thing.

He doesn't care. His hand reaches out and grabs her elbow, pulls her closer. A little yelp escapes her. He sits down on the floor and pulls her between his legs, she struggles against him but his fingers close around her arm, squeezing harder than he intended. She winces, a deep shudder rushing through her small body when he drapes her legs over his thigh, making her lean against him. One arm securely around her, holding her with enough authority that she stops squirming, he raises the other hand and grabs her chin, makes her look at him.

“What happened?” he asks, looking at her, scanning her face, fear and shock evident on it.

She averts her eyes, chewing on her lip. He squeezes her chin.

“Look at me.”

She does, with a soft little whine, blinking rapidly, eyes glistening as she meets his gaze. “M'sorry...” she mumbles.

“For what?” His voice is stern, and she frowns at his tone.

“For... for not... doing... what you told me...” she whispers, the first tear falling from her lashes. “I... I couldn't...”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Her cheeks are bright red by now, her eyes moving over his face in frantic little flutters. “Felt... wrong...”

He watches her, letting go of her chin to move his hand straight between her legs. She flinches and yelps when his fingertips brush against her panties. The fabric is a little damp, warm against his touch. He doesn't hesitate and slips a finger under the hem, testing the waters. She turns her head away, whining softly as her blush spreads over her shoulders. “Do you need my help?” he whispers.

She only stiffens in his hold as his finger glides along her slit. Warm, wetter than he expected. He doesn't know why she was so stressed about this task or thinking she failed him. She's perfectly responsive. His lips brush against her temple.

“Tell me you need me to help you...” he breathes against her.

Her thighs twitch. “I... I need you to... to help me...” she mumbles out, burying her face in his chest in a little gesture of embarrassment. So fucking cute.

“Good girl,” he hums and kisses her forehead while his finger slips between her folds, gathers her slick and promptly dips into her entrance.

She flinches, but keeps quiet, leaning into him as he nudges her legs apart with his thumb. His finger slips in and out of her, her tight walls gripping him in a way that makes his cock throb. Her wetness gathers around him, quiet squelching sounds filling his ear. She lets out little noises of discomfort, barely-there whines, almost-sobs but in a way that doesn't seem too distressed. She's slowly adjusting, relaxing in his hold, her breaths deeper.

His thumb finds her clit, and when he pushes gently on it, she wails a little louder, her legs trembling, her small hands gripping the front of his shirt as she melts into him more. He keeps drawing tight circles around her nub, his digit pushing deep, in and out, faster, her wetness runs over his hand. The moment she becomes really still, a sharp inhale cutting through the air, he stops, pulls away, and she looks up with her lips parted, almost pouty, eyebrows furrowed, disappointed.

He smirks at her and brings his wet finger to her lips. She doesn't fight it when he slips it into her mouth, rubs it over her tongue and along her gums, pushes deeper. She freezes again, stares at him, but then she closes her lips around his finger and sucks, her tongue flicking around it, licking up her own juices. He pulls it out with a wet pop and leans down, capturing her mouth for a quick, deep kiss, sucking on her tongue, tasting her. She melts into him, clinging to him, but as soon as she starts to relax again, he lets go, leans back, leans around her to grab the dildo still lying behind her on the floor.

“Here,” he says and puts the small pink object into her hand. “If you want to finish it, do it with this.”

She stares at him, eyes wide, fingers curling around the toy, her face flushed. And then she shakes her head, catching him off guard.

“No?” he whispers, raising his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Her breaths are loud through her nose as she holds his gaze, not saying anything.

He narrows his eyes. His first instinct is to grab the toy and shove it deep into her tight pussy himself, but he refrains, pushes her off his lap and stands, then grabs her wrist and drags her out of the closet. She stumbles after him and yelps when he throws her onto the bed.

Scrambling to her knees, her lips parted and trembling, she stares at him with her eyes wide in shock. He ignores her for now and walks to the bedside table, rummaging through the drawer until he retrieves a little teardrop shaped object, bright pink as well, smooth silicone with a little antenna.

A high-pitched squeal escapes her as he grabs her and pushes her onto her stomach, one large hand on her lower back, holding her down as she starts to squirm. “Stay still or this'll be more uncomfortable than it should be,” he tells her through gritted teeth. She stiffens, her breaths loud and frantic as she white-knuckles the sheets.

He moves the toy between her ass cheeks, pleased to see the butt plug is still in place. Nudging it slightly, he makes her wince. Pushing her legs apart a bit more with his knee, he slides her underwear aside, grabs her thigh to steady her and lets the small vibrator glide between her slick folds, and it's only a little push of his thumb before it slips into her, swallowed up by the tense muscles of her pussy. She lets out a strained whine. He wipes his palm over her mound gently, then tugs on the fat string until he finds the thicker bit at the end. The button clicks audibly when he presses it, and she gasps when the first vibrations shake her body. It's low, but still definitely overwhelming for her.

He puts her thong back in place and grabs her elbow, dragging her off the bed. Her legs are trembling, the low hum between her twitching thighs barely audible, but he hears it, sees her reaction to it, feels his blood pumping into his cock, the throbbing almost painful, and he wonders why he's taking his time with her. He could have had her last night, this morning, any time he wanted, fucked her hard and mercilessly, any hole he desired, and yet he waits, eases her into it, with a patience (or restraint) that surprises himself.

Sighing loudly, he grabs her hand and leads her out of the bedroom, she follows him on shaking limbs, too stunned to protest now. They reach the open kitchen, and he grabs her waist and sets her on the island, hears the faint clanging noise when the base of her plug hits the marble top. Spreading her legs, he steps between them, braces one arm on either side of her, stares down at her darkly.

Her eyes are wide, glistening, shock and uncertainty on her face, but there's also a deep blush and a tightness to her lips as she fights the sensations pulsing through her small body. Her hands fidget between her legs, a nervous little gesture. He rips them away, tells her to sit on them. She does with a bit of hesitation as she watches him with bated breath. He leans in, lets his breath fan over her cheek, then kisses the corner of her mouth, and there's a jerk in her neck as she turns her head, trying to meet his lips.

He pulls away before that, exhaling through his nose. His hands move over her legs, thumbs brushing along her inner thighs until he pushes them against the damp fabric of her underwear. Her wetness seeps past it already, staining the white satin bit, and he licks his lips at the sight. His restraint is slipping, he can't help it, he can smell her arousal, and it's driving him insane.

In one swift motion he grabs her hip, pulls her to the edge and leans down to press his mouth to her inner thigh, quickly kissing up the soft skin to where the little pink antenna pokes out of her. His free hand tugs at it, then he drags her panties aside and closes his lips around her folds. She yelps softly, body jerking against him. His fingers dig into her flesh, hold her in place as he laps up along her slit, gathers her sweet wetness on his tongue, drinks her up like a man parched.

She whimpers when he sucks on her clit, teeth grazing her soft, sensitive skin while he fumbles with the toy and presses the button a few more times, feeling the vibrations increasing, her hips jerking, thighs pressing against his head. Her noises are getting louder, helpless whines and mewls as she squirms on the counter, hands still squished under her legs while he continues to eat her out with a passion that he hasn't felt in ages.

Holding her with one hand, he tries to counteract her uncontrollable twitches, while his other hand rubs over her thigh before his index finger pokes at her entrance, following the toy inside. It's thrumming hard against her tense muscles, and he pushes it around a little with his finger before he finds the right spot, and that's when she really wails, body spasming against him, the heels of her feet thudding loudly into the cabinet as she tries to ground herself somehow.

He holds the toy pressed to her g-spot, still sucking on her clit, eyes moving up to watch her lose it in front of him. She's arching her back, head tilted upwards, chest pushed out, arms trembling before she can't keep her composure any longer and pulls her hands from under her legs and grabs his hair, two sets of small fingers with an iron grip that surprises him. Either to push him away or hold him right there, he isn't sure. Whatever the case, he lets her, gives her that one moment of control.

Her walls tighten around the toy and his finger, rhythmic clenching, her orgasm is so close, she's right on the edge, and it's that moment that he hooks his finger around the toy and pulls it out, leaning back, slipping from her suddenly limp fingers, and leaves her throbbing and panting, watches her deflate as her orgasm slips away again. A whine escapes her, and she falls backwards onto the counter, body convulsing without release, hiding her flushed face behind her shaking hands.

He straightens himself, licks his lips and then his finger, puts the vibrating toy on the counter before he turns it off. She's sobbing now, overwhelmed and left hanging. Poor thing. But it's not over yet.

Hooking his hands under her arms, he hoists her off the counter and pushes her down on her knees in front of him. She's too surprised to react, slowly lowers her hands and looks up at him, tears streaming down her red cheeks. Without a word or command, he unbuckles his belt and opens his pants, then snaps his fingers at her. Despite her trembling state, she follows the order instantly, automatically, that inborn desire to please stirring within her, when her small hands move up to push his pants and underwear down enough to free his erection.

The initial touch is almost enough to push him to the edge and over, but he braces himself, puts his hands on his hips and watches her as she closes her fingers around his length, slowly stroking up and down like he's shown her. Her eyes stay on him, watching him closely, and he tilts his head, pressing his lips into a thin line, a slight furrow between his eyebrows. He sees her swallowing, and barely a second later, her lips brush against his hot skin, the contact enough to coax a little groan out of him.

He watches her closely as she moves her lips up and down his shaft, tongue licking along his bulging veins, circling his tip, flicking over his slit, before she opens her mouth and takes him deeper. She's a little hesitant, careful, one hand still on his girth, the other braced against his thigh as she slowly bobs her head, lips closed around his tip, cheeks hollowed, the little suction really tempting his self-control. He wants her to find her own pace, get better on her own, learn to pleasure him properly, but he also really wants to fuck her throat and make her choke on his cock. The struggle is real.

His hands move to her head, a gentle little caress, fingers sliding through her hair, slowly nudging her closer, she shifts on her knees, the hand on his thigh pulling her into him. Her eyes are closed now, and he can see tears forming under her lashes as she keeps moving her head back and forth, the hand that's tight around his girth keeping her from taking him deeper. He feels her warm mouth, that little tongue flicking around his tip, hot and wet, sucking softly, almost meditatively, and he can't help it, he bucks his hips slightly against her, his cockhead poking into her cheek when she turns her head with a little muffled whine.

One of his hands moves down to grab her chin, holding her in place, head slightly tilted, as he repeats the same motion, pushing into her mouth, watching her cheek bulge. He hasn't noticed it before, but she's a natural at keeping her teeth out of the way, her jaw opened wide enough to allow him to slip in and out fairly easily. Her eyelids flutter open, and she meets his gaze, her eyes glistening, pupils dilated more than he has expected. She's enjoying this, huh?

He smirks at her, moves her head a little and tilts her chin up before he pumps his hips a little harder against her, more of his cock slipping into her small mouth. She stiffens, both hands now gripping the fabric of his pants, bracing, a sliver of panic in her eyes. He watches her closely, the grip on her chin hard as he concentrates, holds back, fights the urge to just fuck her cute little face. His breaths are quick and loud through his nose.

She holds still, doesn't fight it, and he uses that submission to move faster and eventually slips deeper, feeling his tip prodding the back of her throat. She gags almost immediately, a sudden reflex, her body convulsing against him, fingers digging into his legs, and he lets her pull back with a deep cough, saliva dripping from her lips. But he only lets her relax for so long, before he pushes his cock back into her mouth, deeper, to that spot once more, and she gags again, spit filling her mouth, coating his tip, yet this time he holds her head in place, and she lets out a pained little howl, muffled but clearly distressed.

Sighing, he grips her hair and pulls her back again, lets her catch her breath, swallow the excess spit. Tears stream down her face, her eyes are red, eyebrows furrowed, a helpless expression mixed with something like indignation looking up at him. A low laugh escapes him, and he grips her chin and pulls her back, cock slipping into her mouth, her tongue scraping along the underside, frantic little breaths through her nose, warm on his skin.

“Relax,” he tells her, and strangely enough it's that command that lets him slip deeper, past her gag reflex, further into her tight throat. It's only a few seconds though before she gags yet again, fingernails sinking into his legs, that little uncontrollable twitch as her body fights the new sensation of having her throat stuffed. She gurgles, desperate to breathe, too panicked to relax anymore. He pushes her away, and she splutters, spit and precum flying from her trembling lips, her shoulders shaking.

It takes all of him to loosen his grip on her, but when he lets go of her chin and her hair, inhaling deeply, she looks up almost surprised. Bracing his arms on the counter behind her, he closes his eyes, fighting the urge to make her choke again. That feeling when her throat tenses around his tip, squeezes him, it's something he enjoys a little too much, almost as much as watching her suffer through it, with her tears streaming down her face and her hands digging into his legs, that desperate struggle for control.

He'll force that urge right out of her, soon. Another time.

“Suck,” he grunts instead, standing still as he leans over her.

She resumes her ministrations, one hand around his girth, pumping and stroking, while she closes her lips around his tip again, sucking and licking it, keeping it far away from the back of her throat. She's shaky and sloppy, her wet slurping noises echoing through the room, her body still trembling, but she somehow manages to bring him right to the edge after all. He feels his balls tightening, his stomach tensing up, his cock throbbing in her hold. His hands itch, clenched into fists on the counter, his body shivering. So close. So fucking close...

A deep groan escapes his throat, and he leans back abruptly, grips her hair and pulls her off him, a sharp inhale coming from the girl beneath him. Her eyes are wide as she looks up at him, and he just ignores her, hooks his hands around her elbows and pulls her to her feet. She's that tiny body he can manhandle however he wants, and she ends up on her stomach on the counter, short legs dangling off the edge, feet kicking before he cages her in, one hand on her lower back, the other moving straight to the little shiny knob sitting between her plump ass cheeks.

Before she can comprehend what's happening or try to fight him, he drags her panties aside and pulls the plug out with a plop, puts it on the counter with a clang, before he grips his throbbing cock and pushes the tip against her sphincter. She lets out a surprised wail, her hands reaching back to swat him away, but he only grabs them and bends her arms behind her back, held by one large hand. She still struggles as he pushes further, forcing his tip deeper. He doesn't have time to prepare her properly, he's close to exploding.

She whines, writhing on the counter despite his unrelenting hold, and he watches her tight muscles give way to him, the grip almost as good as her tensing throat. His crown slips in, and he stops, letting it rest there as he strokes his shaft hard and fast, until he feels that tension finally dissolve. He comes with a deep grunt, arching his head back, feeling his cock throb and twitch in his hand and in her ass.

Spurt after spurt shoots into her tightness, filling her up until the first drops seep past the tight ring of muscles that clench around him involuntarily as she squirms helplessly, sobbing softly. When he relaxes against her, shoulders sagging, the grip on her arms loosening, he wishes he'd prepared her better, made her more pliant, open her up properly to take more of him. But this'll do for now. Once the twitching subsides, he gently pulls his cock out, watching her ass gape for a moment, his thick seed slipping out almost immediately.

He pushes it back in, feeling her tense muscles close around his finger. Then he grabs the plug and brings it back into position, holding her down again as she starts squirming more, the cold metal slipping into place, plugging up his warm cum. He exhales deeply once he is done, and when he lets go of her and steps back, he can't help but slap her plump cheek once for good measure.

She sobs louder, but remains lying on her stomach, legs dangling off the edge, immobile, all the fight gone from her body. He watches her as he puts his spent dick back into his pants. “What a good girl you are,” he whispers, noticing a wave of goosebumps rippling over her skin. His hands are on her round rear, gently sliding up and down, thumbs teasing between the cheeks. He fixes her thong, nudges the plug, smirks when she flinches at the motion.

Then he grabs her waist and pulls her off the counter, turning her so he can scoop her up into his arms. Despite her reluctance and the fact that she's still crying softly, she leans against him, needy little fingers digging into the collar of his shirt. No matter how hard she fights him, fights the sensations and experiences he gives her, she is clearly craving this, his attention, the care he gives her afterwards, the gentle moments after however rough he treats her.

It's a good dynamic. It'll work, he's sure. She will be absolutely perfect.

He carries her into the bedroom, carefully putting her down on the bed. She immediately rolls onto her side, knees pulled up to her chest, wiping at her wet face, avoiding his gaze as he watches her closely. When he leans down, she flinches, but he only grabs the edge of the blanket and drapes it over her small body.

“Rest now,” he tells her, straightening back up. “I'll order us some food.”

TWO 🟥 THREE 🟥 FOUR

End notes: Just a little side note on where this story is set: it could be literally anywhere (where there are skycrapers or a downtown area with taller buildings). I did not have a specific place in mind, could be any major American city, could be a bigger European city, anywhere you like to think of. It doesn't really matter anyway. (And if it is set in America, just imagine his club to be one of those more lax ones where the drinking age isn't 21 or at least nobody cares about it.)

Also, you may have guessed it, but our male protagonist is a little bit more than just a nightclub owner. I won't go into too many details, just know he's influencial, if you'd like to call it that. And definitely intimidating enough for anyone to bow before him, not just our poor girl who might just be a little in over her head at this point.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

TAG LIST: @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN◾ELEVEN

[penguinlop]

Yandere Alhaitham x Reader

/// Ignorance Is Bliss

Summary:

You discover that your new love, Alhaitham, secretly keeps a detailed knowledge capsule about you.

cw: GN reader, spoilers for alhaitham’s lore and sumeru archon quests, yandere themes, stalking, manipulation, implied not-sfw

Alhaitham knows better than anyone else that there's always a price to pay to enter the oasis of knowledge. 

Sanity is the ticket those desert sirens crave to check before you board. 

Enticing scrolls of information wrap around your waist and weary legs, dragging you toward the mirage of gilded wisdom. They dance around, heated faces burned from the whispers of sand. The glistening flow of cleansing texts and books containing forbidden, convoluted details tempts people's thirst. 

It's all for the enlightenment. An intoxicating euphoria of comprehension, to feel the ivory branches and leaves of Irminsul flood their senses. Perhaps it's the glory, that "aha!" moment people desire. They want to fatten their parched egos and satisfy that sinister appetite. They hunger to be better than everyone else by knowing and achieving more, by finding the Holy Grail first. 

Knowledge is the charmer; people are the sinful serpents. 

As with any personal research project for him, it started with discovering the topic of interest

Alhaitham prides himself on being a man with principles rooted in logic. Rationality is the key to clarity. Dreams are mere distractions. They are fanatical fantasies that the mind plays to taunt and deceive. The Sages endlessly speak of how emotions only get in the way of breaking the Samsara and reaching Nirvana. 

Perhaps the moon can only hope to achieve the greatness of the sun. 

That is why it was noon when he first laid eyes on you in the House of Daena.

You smelt of orange blossom.

How could he forget that contemplative look as you searched for yellowing books riddled with dust to pique your interest and aid your studies? It was nothing out of the ordinary, a common spectacle rather. As a fellow member of the Akademiya, you were simply another eager student to him.  

Holding onto such a meaningless encounter wouldn't be rational. He didn't even bother to gather information on you via the Akasha as a testament to his word. 

But one evening, as the lustrous moon wailed in its cage, Alhaitham found you near the beautiful Sanctuary of Surasthana. It was a clear night with a gentle breeze, the perfect time to  contemplate and relax amidst the choir of dusk birds. He was going up there to take a quick breather. There were too many annoying meetings he had to attend.  

With a telescope in hand and a notebook neatly laid on a stone bench nearby, you gazed at the glorious heavens. A faint fragrance of rose water clung to your skin. However, that's hardly what he noticed at the time. There it was again: that contemplative look. They say the scholars of the Akademiya hold the weight of Teyvat by carrying the burden of denying ignorance, the blistering desire to keep on learning. Some seek to know more and more, even as they meet their fated end. It's an addictive, maddening cycle of peeping into the elusive unknown and searching for answers. 

Yet you looked so peaceful. It was refreshing to see. 

Alhaitham couldn't help but reminisce about the words his grandmother left him with. 

"May my child Alhaitham lead a peaceful life." 

"Lovely, aren't they?" you whispered as tenderly as dancing Padisarahs when you noticed his form enter the Sanctuary's vicinity. "Many say the stars are mysterious, but I think they can be quite playful. Every day I unveil more. It's like they ask me to come and be with them" A simple glance nearly made him burn with curiosity. He suddenly felt parched. "I'm sorry if I startled you. I can often get carried away with my studies." You chuckled at the cunning man. Maybe he couldn't even hear you with his headphones on.  

Alhaitham crossed his arms and sighed. "It's fine. I should've known someone from the school of Rtawahist would be up here stargazing. I will be heading off then." Your telescope and blue robes were a telltale sign of your discipline; it was but a mere elementary-level deduction. 

"Are you sure you don't want to stay? I don't want you to feel like I am hogging the place." The fragrance of rose water came oh-so-slightly closer. It was too sweet and enticing. The pragmatic man couldn't help it. He discretely used his Akasha on you. 

After learning of your name and basic information, he came to the blatant conclusion that he needed to leave. Immediately. 

Once again, he thought of his grandmother. 

"You are such a smart child, but you must take care to have a clearer mind than others. You must understand that vain pursuits are but dust."

His mind was fogging up with too many eccentric yearnings. Aside from facts hastily gathered from the Akasha, he knew nothing about you. 

It needed to stay like that.

He nearly scoffed. What was this? That old tale of Layla and Majnun? The man who went insane from love. Give me a break. What use would itching love be to his aspirations? At best, this was but a fleeting attraction. It would go away eventually. 

"Look, I don't think either of us have any more time to waste." Alhaitham reviewed you once more before curtly turning around and walking away. "Now then, goodbye." 

He had made sure to study the contours of your face, your eye color, your height, your posture, how your clothes fit you, and, most of all, that scent of rose water. But, really, it was all to avoid you for future reference. Yes, understanding one's subject is critical. 

You raised your eyebrow as you saw his form grow smaller and smaller. Then, tilting your head up, you looked at the hypnotizing stars and deathly pale moon, trying to read your destiny and find the absolute truth. 

Before he could completely escape your view, you used your Akasha Terminal on him. Perhaps you were also too curious. Sumeru's ideals were fostered by you quite well.

Huh, so his name is Alhaitham…What a mysterious man.  

___

The art of coffee-making is a methodical process. 

Roast, ground, brew, and serve. 

It was akin to the process of learning that Alhaitham used: read, break down, reorganize, and question. 

Depending on the customer's order, it could be embellished with spices such as cardamom, cinnamon, or saffron. In some cases, sugar may be added. 

Alhaitham likes it dark and plain, an afternoon refreshment for the man on the go. While Puspa Café is a common place for social gatherings of people across all walks of life, ranging from lowlife sycophants to wishful merchants, he prefers to be alone. Solitude isn't as vexing as many claim. It allows him to think about his current ordeals. Moreover, it gives him time to read. 

That day, one problem had left him quite disturbed. 

The Dendro user has always been in-tune with his body. Ever since the brief confrontation that night, he had been physically and mentally agitated, with a fluctuating heartbeat, clammy hands, accelerated breathing, and racing thoughts. Coffee was a possible solution he believed could mitigate any troublesome symptoms. But, of course, in moderation. His roommate, Kaveh, could learn about the word moderation. 

Yet this afternoon's refreshment only made it worse.

There you were again. 

A ghastly deev haunting his every footstep. Spreading tendrils of nightmares across his skin to choke his throat, vivisecting his beating heart and rumbling mind to capture any essence of starry wisdom and pragmatic musings. 

Closing the book he was reading, he noticed the color of the coffee that spewed out of your brass dallah. It was so light. Just from the sight of it, he could taste the nauseating sweetness, too lightly roasted, with too much sugar, honey, and spice. Scoffing, he bets you even untraditionally added milk to lessen the bitter taste. Children are the only ones who dream in this nation, yet one quick look at you was enough to guess that you never truly grew up.

As if you wanted to solidify his observation, your eyes glowed and the corners of your lips curled up when you spotted him. You made your way over to his table and asked if he would like to join you with a spring in your step. 

Amidst the overpowering, bold scent of coffee clouding the café, he smelt it the moment you came closer.

Jasmine. 

Were your decisions rooted in spontaneity, or did you cycle through a collection of perfumes? He couldn't help but ponder the answer as you awaited his response. 

"Sure." 

He adored the way you perked up at the sound of one word. A waitress quickly helped to arrange a larger table for you two. 

This was just a way to get more information out of you. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Yes, you could be of use to him. The third time's a charm, they say. 

You quickly got comfortable, too comfortable. "Would you like to share some baklava or maamoul cookies? They are quite delicious, though I can order something else for you if you don't like them. Be my guest!" With a slight, delicate movement of your hand, you gestured to the assortment of sweets laying on a brass tray. 

"No. I'm fine. Foods with such high levels of sugar only leave me restless at night. It's a nuisance to deal with while I'm trying to work. You should know better, too. Thank you, though." 

You awkwardly glanced away. "I see…Well, that's not a problem. The offer is always there if you change your mind." Looking down at your hands nestled in your lap, you maneuvered the dying conversation elsewhere and swiftly began to ask about his job as the Akademiya's Scribe. The dreamy gleam in your eyes never faded

He couldn't get enough. His illogical thirst was growing.

His flesh began to blaze with anticipation. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to entertain this romantic fantasy for a bit. Things could be tested with you. He was never one to be enthralled with the concept of love. It was too frivolous and melodramatic, but he supposed studious scholars never limit their perspectives. 

"So, what's it like?" you chirped. 

Why must you question him? He wanted to know more about you, everything there was to know. No, he had to know in order to finally get this greedy parasite wishing to feast on every bit of you out of his mind. Such a visceral need was consuming every inch of his very being. All semblances of practicality were withering before his eyes. No amount of bitter coffee was enough to quench the anxiety that plagued his mind, nor his bouncing knees, as you persistently asked him about his work and Darshan of Haravatat. 

Of course. 

How could he be so ignorant? His approach was all wrong. 

Alhaitham graduated with top grades at the Akademiya; his professors commended him for quickly deciphering incredibly elaborate ancient runes and grasping unfathomably complex syntax and structure. 

You were like that. 

You were a puzzle waiting to be unveiled and exposed to him and him alone. The world has no need of getting to view such convoluted beauty. A rare individual you were, indeed. You managed to hold on to such childish ways of wanting to dream while still maintaining a mature air of unmatched wisdom in your research. 

Alhaitham began the next phase of his project. 

Studying the subject.  

He thanked his grandmother for the lessons she taught him. All he had to do was clear his mind, and the path to wisdom was unfolding. 

___

None of it was wrong. 

No sane student at the Akademiya would ever take their exam blindly or be unprepared for a debate. Comprehension and studying are critical components to achieving success. So why set yourself up for failure? 

Before asking if you would reciprocate his feelings, he had to know first. So many calculated scenarios were emerging through his mind as he thought of what would happen if he didn't make sure beforehand. He couldn't possibly let himself look like some idiot. He had to find out the exact percentage of success, no matter what it took. 

After all, Alhaitham's hands were never the cleanest, even if he did like a cushy life. 

That is why he felt no guilt when he asked to walk you home. It was very late at night. You were stargazing again. He just wanted to be useful.  

Each step was seared into his mind. Each item of interest you pointed out on the way left him with more questions. Upon reaching your abode, sparks of pride flooded into his veins. He had guessed you lived in this area. You often walked here during mornings and later hours; it was a straightforward conclusion. Nothing special. 

A tender smile graced your beautiful face. It was brimming with gratitude. 

He ensured you entered safely and locked the door. It was only when all the lights were out did he truly depart, though. He had to see the peaceful expression on your face as you slept. 

Once Alhaitham arrived home, he felt conflicted. Reasonably, there was no chance he could ever forget anything from today. Yet humans aren't without their respective flaws, especially involving memory. He didn't dare to ruminate on what may occur if he were to somehow forget even one piece of information you blessed him with. Every tidbit and morsel you fed him was significant in nature. 

It was all part of his investigations.  

However, he couldn't write such crucial facts in some random notebook. No, no; such things must remain strictly confidential. It was only logical. What if he misplaced it? Or even worse, what if his obnoxious roommate got to it? He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue.

Summoning an empty knowledge capsule that he had obtained when he was ordered to draft more ordinances for the Sages, Alhaitham flooded it with every bit of data he had on you, from your slumbering form to your mellow smile and contemplative look. It was all there. Safe and sound, ready for him to access at any time. 

Before resting, he thought of the way you smelt of orange blossom again. 

___

You next met one morning at the Akademiya. 

You wore no fragrance today. 

Chuckling, you noticed Alhaitham stride towards you impatiently. He was clutching a small, decorative bag. After exchanging simple greetings, he handed it over to you. There was neither a frilly explanation nor a blooming blush on his handsome face. Instead, he had a sharp and clean approach. 

"Here, this is for you." 

Though not one to express his emotions so as to maintain an unreadable body language, you had picked up on a few of his habits. He seemed eager. It was charming to think about how he grew more casual and open around you. To the untrained eye, one may think he wasn't fond of you at all, but you knew. That realization was enough to keep you on your toes. 

One previous evening, the glimmering stars and bygone moon sisters breathlessly spoke of your future. It was challenging to decipher, but you stuck to your beliefs that the stars don't lie, and you were greatly rewarded.

The confirming chill that the divine gales of the night brought to you all spoke of the same fortune. 

"There is a man that treasures every bit of you." 

Despite sounding like good tidings, a hole in your stomach grew.

It started off as a tiny sapling. You suspected it to be anxiety for upcoming deadlines or the usual fatigue from nights spent stargazing. Something that could easily be brushed off. Yet branches and roots ravaged and wrapped around your organs as you heard the consistent sound of soil crunching beneath one's feet. Be it dawn or dusk, such dreadful mirages pained your spirit.

But with Alhaitham, it stopped. Perhaps it was a side effect of being in love. Being so on edge around him had taken a toll on you. Is this why the Sages warn of pursuing things such as love? You couldn't help but wonder. 

Nevertheless, it wasn't an appropriate time to have your heads in the clouds. 

You quickly tore off the patterned wrapping paper and grinned. It was exactly what you needed: more jasmine-scented perfume! Just the glass bottle itself was astonishingly exquisite, encrusted with jewels and detailed with gold. You could tell it was expensive. 

"I can't take this. This must've cost you a fortune! I really can't accept this. Though I did just run out of mine… You should return it and use the money for something more useful. Besides, I'm fine with using the cheaper one I usually purchase!"

Returning the bottle to the small bag, you tried to give it back to the man standing before you. 

Alhaitham hated the way you acted. This was just a quick gift he purchased at the Grand Bazaar. It was nothing. He knew you had run out of your usual exactly the day prior. Alhaitham simply saw an opportunity and decided to strike. Honestly, he only studies what interests him. You should know that by now. Why bother with the inessential? 

"Don't be ridiculous.” His eyes narrowed oh-so-slightly. “It was just something I thought you might like. Anyway, keep it. I have no need for such things." 

Still lacking confidence, you treaded carefully, "Well…If you say so. I will treasure it by wearing it every day! Thank you, Alhaitham." Inspecting the perfume bottle again, you couldn't help but smile. "It's almost like a miracle that you gifted me this because I just ran out of my usual. I really want to thank you somehow…."

Bullseye. 

"Hmm… Is that so? Never mind, we will get to that later." He placed his hand underneath your chin and pulled your face from side to side to inspect you. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you? Your eyebags are much more prominent." 

Twinges of insecurity rang through your bones as he examined your appearance. I suppose that's how he shows he cares? Looking down, you played with the strings of the gift bag and tried to awkwardly collect yourself. "Lack of sleep is common for my studies, but I have been a bit more jumpy than usual when I rest, that's all. Perhaps you were right back then…Too much sugar." Your voice grew weaker. "It's nothing, really." 

"If it's ‘nothing’ as you claim it to be, then you wouldn't be so distressed. Come on, spit it out." There was no need to sugarcoat things. Many of his former classmates gossip that he is a ruthless robot, but he doesn't mind such statements. To him, it's better to clear things away than regret it later. 

Not wanting to look into his eyes, you glanced at the other students in the Akademiya mingling with their like-minded colleagues and friends. Dejectedly, you scratched the back of your neck, then quickly gestured to the door with your head. "Let's talk outside, shall we?" 

Sitting under a pavilion, you apologized for the sudden request to head outdoors. Alhaitham remained unfazed. Rigid and cold, silently awaiting a reply. 

First, you breathed in, then shakily exhaled before speaking, "Okay, then. I think someone is stalking me. I can't give you a proper explanation as to why, but I just know. It really has left me so scared. I won't lie, the feeling disappears when I'm with you...." With a heated face, you quickly looked to Alhaitham for validation as you poured out your feelings. "But, um, of course! You are an extremely accomplished individual. Anybody would feel better with you since you're the Scribe, after all." 

He scoffed, "I think Kaveh would beg to differ about your last statement." 

You laughed. 

It was simply perfect. He just wanted to caress your face and tell you how good you were being for him. Yes, so good. So naive. 

"Let's do an experiment. Why don't you stay at my place for a day or two and see what happens?" He couldn't help but smirk at how you shrunk under his all-knowing stare. "If you don't want to, I can think of another solution. However, I believe we have become quite close, and I'm sure you would enjoy it. Besides, Kaveh is out for a bit. But in the end, it's your choice, of course." 

"Well, if you insist…." You took out the perfume bottle and daintily sprayed it on your neck and wrists; you enjoyed how his keen eyes soaked you in. "Thank you for being so kind. You know me so well, Alhaitham." 

"Yes, I really do." 

___

In Sumeru City, when it rains, it pours. 

Streets flood with incinerating kisses and sensual touches intertwined with a rich, floral fragrance. 

To many, Alhaitham is known as a lunatic. Such a name fits the man whose mind was devoured by jasmine perfume. 

He couldn't get enough. 

Every inch of you, he had to learn about. He needed to properly store and encode such mesmerizing information into the recesses of his gluttonous mind. 

That intoxicating perfume permeated Alhaitham’s room and desperately held onto disheveled sheets. It was akin to the incense that scholars use to clear their minds and focus their bodies to become one with Irminsul. Yes, it was just like that. 

You couldn't help but feel so safe in his arms. The stars really do never lie. 

He loved every bit of you.

___ 

Sunlight peeked through translucent cotton curtains and illuminated the room. 

Alhaitham kissed your forehead and greeted you with a simple "Good morning" as you moved his hair from his face and took in his features. The intense perfume still persistently laced through his sheets. 

The domesticity of it all, from changing together to preparing breakfast, swelled your heart. It had been quite a while since you were last able to unwind like this. 

Alhaitham quickly took notice of your lax movements. Good. You were enjoying yourself as planned. By the time he's done, you won't be able to tell the difference between an innocent Sumeru Rose and a vicious Venus Flytrap.

He looked you up and down again. "How do you feel? Did you sleep okay?" 

"Yes, I haven't felt this relaxed for a while. Ever since I joined my Darshan, sleep has become a luxury. It was especially bad when I was first learning the basics because I would have to stay up all night long to study the stars and keep up with other research. At one point, I developed severe insomnia, but I’m fine now. Anyway… Yes, I did sleep well. This is the first time I’ve felt safe in a long while. Thank you, Alhaitham." 

He nodded and spoke, "That's good. If we are going to continue this relationship, then maybe in the future we can discuss more complex matters, such as living together more permanently."  

Your eyes widened as you took in his statement, but you soon giggled, “A little hasty, aren’t we, Alhaitham?” You poked fun at him. “What about poor Mister Kaveh?” 

He rolled his eyes at your teasing. 

Then he shrugged and bluntly defended himself, "It's only rational to think about these things, especially with your situation. Besides, I'm only putting them on the table—" 

There was a knock at his door. 

He noticed your jaw tighten in fear. Alhaitham pulled the strings of the puppet and played along with you. He muttered into your ear to hide from the front door's view just in case.  

The Scribe loved the way you obediently followed his orders and trusted so wholeheartedly everything that he said.  

When he opened the door, he didn't expect to be greeted by the Grand Sage Azar's assistant: Setaria. 

She told him how the Akademiya lost a knowledge capsule about the divine and how the Grand Sage wished for him to gather information on a certain blonde traveler.

A divine knowledge capsule and a heroic traveler from afar. How interesting. 

He crossed his arms and unceremoniously spoke, "I'll start my assignment soon." With that, he nodded, closed the door, and went silent again. Annoyance ran through his veins as he was pulled along into the Grand Sage's plot. A peaceful life as the Scribe was all he desired. Was it really that hard for the Akademiya to provide that?  

Turning around, the reserved man called for you. Your name rolled off his tongue too well, as if he was made to be the sole person on this forsaken continent to cherish and pronounce it. You carefully popped your head out from behind his bedroom door, the corners of your kissable lips turned down, forming a slight frown. 

"Is it all good?"

"Yes, it was just someone from the Akademiya for work. Speaking of, I have a little surprise for us." Alhaitham seemed to look right through you. "Do you want to hear it?" There was an excitement bubbling deep inside of him. Your stomach began to ache as he cloaked himself in mystery. 

You felt those hawk eyes analyze you again. "Uh, sure?" 

"How would you feel about going to Port Ormos for some academic research?" 

___

Alhaitham convinced you that it would help your situation. You could see if that uneasy feeling would follow you on your journey to the port. 

While the actual job itself is mundane and uneventful, as the Scribe, he receives many benefits. One was being sponsored by the Akademiya to stay in an upscale hotel with many amenities. 

Your shared suite had a lovely balcony with a nice view of the sea. Breathing in the refreshing salty air on a balmy day was energizing after being cooped up in such a stifling city of arrogant wisdom. Mere fool's gold.  

"If you want to go and explore, I would advise you to remain within the hotel grounds or near places that are guarded or populated in case anything were to happen. 

You turned to him. "Thank you for your concern, but I will just stay here. It's a nice room. I'll enjoy the breeze and finish up my papers on the balcony. Perhaps in your free time, we can do something together?"  

He thought about it for a second. "I'll see."

You deflated a bit. "Well, when do you think you'll come back?"

"Not anytime soon."

"Oh..."

"Anyway, I should be leaving now." Alhaitham pecked your cheek before heading out.

After unpacking, you began writing rough ideas for your ongoing thesis in your worn-out leather journal. As the clock kept ticking and the hours passed, you grew bored. Small sketches of constellations were sloppily drawn on the side with little notes as you tried to jot down as much information as possible. Becoming distracted, you began to doodle Alhaitham's constellation: Vultur Volans. You wanted to unveil so much more about him. You wanted the stars to guide you in your journey. 

Yet just as you were about to finish your little doodle, your pen ran out of ink.

You scribbled a few lines and circles to test it out one last time before throwing it in a nearby trash bin. It was nothing. A simple delay. 

Before going inside, you closed your leather journal and placed it on top of the stack of scrap papers so they wouldn't fly away. Going to your side of the bed, you opened your Adhigama wood nightstand and pulled out a few spare pens. However, when you sat down and attempted to use them, they didn't work. It was fine. You just happened to bring a bad batch. That was all. 

You knew Alhaitham brought a brand new set with him. It was still in his luggage, though... He was in such a hurry to start his job here in Port Ormos that he had no time to unpack. You always admired his diligence; it's what got him so far so quickly. He was your age, but you were still far behind. Though you couldn't blame him for tuning the world out and focusing just on his studies, he lost so much at such a young age. He was brave to keep looking towards the future despite his parents being gone. Even if he would say, "It was just the most rational thing to do." 

Alhaitham is a man with principles rooted in logic. He would understand why you were rummaging through his things. It wasn't an invasion of privacy! You two were a couple now; albeit new, the love was evident already. 

You were just going to borrow his pens, anyway. 

As you unlocked his luggage and looked for his case of supplies, you stumbled upon two similar containers in appearance and weight. Ugh! Which one was it? I suppose I'll just have to open them both… 

Moving your hand towards the zipper, you noticed your hand shake. Perhaps it was just getting cold. You had left the glass balcony door open, only closing the screen. The soft sound of the breeze and smell of sea salt slithered up your spine, invading your ear canals and nostrils. 

You placed your fingers on the zipper of the bag on the left. The sound of it unzipping was akin to the rustles of leaves and branches in a dark rainforest. What you found inside was a knowledge capsule. 

The pens were in the other bag. 

That was all. Alhaitham works under the Grand Sage. Of course you were bound to find certain items only he should be privy to. 

Yet why was it calling you like the irresistible knowledge that spills from the ivory, archaic branches of Irminsul? It was most likely empty, anyway, waiting to be filled with the information he would discover in the bustling Port Ormos. Why was the hollow, ravaging feeling in your stomach and heart returning to once again suffocate your organs and dry up your blood into grains of sand? 

Your journal was waiting for you. Opening the other bag, you got what you wanted. 

His pens. 

That was what you came for. 

However, the sharp pains and shivers ringing through your body reeled you into the infested desert and the pouring rainforest. A peek wouldn't hurt. Alhaitham would understand, right? He was the one that brought you here, after all, to keep an eye out for your situation. 

Yes, he's a man who knows his morals. Besides, how would he even know? It would be alright. He said himself that he wouldn't be coming anytime soon. 

As you gripped the green and gold knowledge capsule pulsing and flowing with information, you felt so conflicted. The unease was growing, yet you felt so sure that you were meant to do this. Opposing thoughts contrasted each other like fields of flowers flourishing amidst dunes of lifeless sand. It truly nauseated you.  

After establishing a connection with it, you felt it. A flash of memories entered into the recesses of your mind. As if two consciousness were merged together to form one single entity, you felt vines and tendrils weaving through your anatomy. Nearly every bit of knowledge you gained was something you already had experienced. Yet it was from a different perspective. Your face, your body, your studies, your smiles, your slumber, your pens, even your perfume. 

It was all there, only from a different angle.

For so long, you saw life from the eyes of a feeble mouse. Now, you could see what it was like to view the world from the perspective of a hungry vulture ready to gobble up its prey. You dropped the canned knowledge. You barely heard the thud it made with the flooring, as it was drowned out by all of the thoughts racing through your mind. 

Your eyes scattered to the open glass door with the closed screen. The breeze and saltiness of the sea were still there. 

It felt so far. 

Running to the balcony, you rushed to lock the glass door and fumbled to close the cotton curtains. 

"Didn't anyone teach you to clean up after yourself?" 

Alhaitham's voice made everything cold. Sharply turning your head, you faced the man who both tormented your life and made it so beautiful. He came back so soon. Too soon. 

"Once the Matra knows about this, you will go to prison, Alhaitham, for what you did to me!" Your hands were shaking as you bunched them into fists and furrowed your eyebrows. Tears were threatening to spill at any moment. 

He merely crossed his arms. His precise, uptight composure never faltered. "You think the Matra will do anything to me? I'm the Scribe. The right hand of the Grand Sage." He stepped closer to you. “Did you know there once was a Rtawahist student who was so desperate for sleep that they went to Port Ormos and looked for knowledge capsules to help their studies and cure their insomnia? The Matra were never able to track down the culprit." Alhaitham walked closer to you. "However, I think today, that could change. The usage of canned knowledge to gain an advantage over one’s peers in the Akademiya is strictly against the rules." He was always one step ahead of you.

"Is it not?"

Cupping your face and forcing you to look at his darkening eyes, he stared into you, drinking up the way you brimmed with fear. Just how he liked it. Everything was falling into place as calculated. He whispered into your ear. "Think of this as the 'thank you' you said you would give me that day." 

Alhaitham embraced you tightly, taking in the exquisite jasmine perfume he gifted you. Trembling in his arms, you felt so small and helpless. Dreams shattered as you thought of everything that you had learned. The stars and wise moon didn't lie to you that night. There's a man who loves you with all his being. There's a man who knows everything about you.  

Seeking what is forbidden will always be the downfall of humanity. 

Perhaps ignorance truly is bliss. 

Thank you so much for reading!!!

(⺣◡⺣)♡*

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | meet cute, part 2

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨ summary: 9.5k words; joel takes you on your first date, and it doesn't end up like he'd planned. not that either of you seem to mind, of course. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, relationship/dynamic not established yet like the other chapters, unprotected piv, rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), reader is a little bratty in this chapter, talks of brat punishment, sub/dom relationship, dirty talk, pet names for reader, joel is so fucking handsy here i am Feral, minor bits of angst (reader backstory stuff) a/n: welp apparently i am incapable of writing a short chapter for these two right now >< i'm really loving the way that pretty wife started out a bit bratty and has this pipeline to being joel's good little wife it's kinda doing something for me

You don’t know if your heartbeat could get any louder, nearly drowning out the trill of the line ringing in your ear. You’re moments away from speaking to your mystery man from the bar again, to Joel, who’d seemed intent on changing the entirety of your life with one single fuck in a bar bathroom.

“Hello, Miller Contracting,” a deep voice lumbers out on the other end, sounding nearly clinical with the greeting. You have no doubt it's Joel - his voice feels too recognizable, the deep richness of it combined with his Texas twang that had you absolutely swooning last night. You will your lips to part, for words to rush out, but you pause, trying to get the lump out of your throat.

“Uh - Joel?” you croak out.

“Mhm,” he replies absentmindedly. You picture him at a desk somewhere, sorting through papers, or working on a construction site, his muscles bulging out his shirt and you’re temporarily lost to the fantasy. “What can I do for you?”

“I-it’s me -” you say, repeating your name to him. “From last night…” you add on.

He laughs, a deep rumble in the phone, and your heart lifts what feels like miles within your chest. “Yeah, from last night, didn’t need to clarify, sweetheart.”

“S-sorry. I’m Nervous,” you say simply, wringing your hands together on your lap.

“Now hang on a second, how’d you get this number? Don’t recall givin’ it out,” Joel says, a hint of playfulness in his voice. The fact that he seems eager to talk to you, tease you, immediately dissipates the nervousness you’d had about calling him. 

“Er, I’m persistent, that’s all I’ll say,” you tell him with a flush of your cheeks.

“Well, if I’m honest, I’m happy as hell to hear from ya,” Joel says. You feel your eyebrows twitch and mouth part in surprise.

“You are?” You wish you didn’t sound so desperately surprised by the fact, but the words tumbled out of you before you could stop them.

“Felt like a damn idiot, forgettin’ to get your number last night. Not how a gentleman should act.” You can practically visualize Joel shaking his head at himself and running a hand through his hair on the other end.

“And you think you acted like a gentleman otherwise?” You smirk and bite your lip, already feeling a tingling in your limbs, a slow, swirling pool of arousal sinking deep into your gut.

Joel chuckles and makes a small humming sound. “Maybe not, but it got you callin’ me, didn’t it?”

You laugh heartily and agree with a sultry “mm-hmm.”

“So listen, I knew if I ever got to speak to you again, I wanted to… uh-” Joel clears his throat, and you can hear a slight wobbling, like he’s nervous. “See if I could take you on a proper date.”

“Oh really, a date? Not just a bar bathroom this time?” you ask, trying to quell a little bit of your excitement, play it cool around him. You’re having a hard time believing that he’d want to take you out, for some reason. This past year or so has been a slew of failed dates, refusals to call back, men telling you one reason or another you no longer interested them. This tended to happen after they’d already gotten something from you, which had only served to make you feel worse about the entire thing. You tried not to let it get to you, but really, you were craving to be loved, to be seen for who you were and loved for it. That was something you hadn’t gotten enough of in your life.

“Now listen, if you’re gonna be like that, maybe I don’t need t’take you out, do I?” Joel teases, and the tingling in your core intensifies, your legs rubbing together just at the low drawl of his voice prodding at you.

“I’d love to, Mr. Miller,” you say coyly, and you hear a sharp hiss of breath from Joel’s end.

“Little shit,” he mumbles.

“What’s that?” you lick your lips and fight the urge to twirl your hair, the feeling of getting him so riled up just over the phone giving you a perverse little twinge of satisfaction.

“Fuck, I need to see you again,” he nearly groans, and you’re unsure if he’d even meant the words for you to hear, so low and quiet. ”Dinner this Friday, then?” Joel asks you, and you bite your lip and scrunch your face up in excitement, knowing he can’t see you.

“It’s a date.”

Joel picks you up that Friday at 6:30, a bit of a sweating, anxious mess after fussing over your makeup and outfit for the last two hours. You end up landing on a white, frilly mini dress with a corset top, knowing your tits are on perfect display for him. A devious huff of laughter leaves you when you reach into your underwear drawer and dig out your sheer white over the knee stockings with a lace trim at the top and slide them up your legs. Maybe you are in the mood to be a bit of menace for him tonight, you think to yourself. The thought of Joel’s eyes practically falling out of his head when he sees you in this makes you smile and nearly squeal with delight as you put your finishing touches to your outfit with accessories and a touch up of your shimmery lip gloss.

When you bound outside of your apartment building, you can see a nearly pained expression on Joel’s face through the windows of his blue truck, pulled up right in front of your building. You hear the clicking of your little heels on the pavement, giving you a boost of confidence as you stride towards him, feeling your hair bouncing behind you.

You feel… fucking hot. And you know it’s partly because of who you know is going to be looking at you all night. Joel takes too long to stare and enjoy the view of you walking over before he’s scurrying out of his truck to reach you and grab the car door. 

“Evenin’,” he says, clearing his throat and you notice he seems a bit more quiet and shy in the light of day. He seems almost dazed, trying to take in as much of you as he can in just a few seconds, blinking as he processes just how tiny everything you’re wearing is.

“Got you these,” he says, holding out a small bouquet of flowers full of different pastel flowers and greenery. You can tell he put some thought into it, that he didn’t just pick a random bouquet and roll with it, and it makes you smile. 

“Thank you,” you say, studying the flowers for an extra beat. “Such a gentleman,” you coo as you step past him and start to climb into the seat. He huffs a little as you pass and shoots his hand out to grab your wrist, a tight hold as he yanks you back towards him. He doesn’t waste a second before pulling you flush with him, pressing the tops of your tits further out of your dress and onto his chest, covered in a button up shirt. His hand splays along the small of your back, rough and warm, seeping through the fabric of your dress. He leans down, capturing your lips with his.

“Not gonna give me a proper hello, were you?” he rasps once he pulls away. “Thought you were a polite girl.”

Your lips part and spread into a little smile as you lick your lips. “Sorry,” you say, putting your eyes down to the pavement for a moment before lifting them back up to his and cupping his face, raking your fingers through his beard and leaning back in for a soft, chaste kiss. “There’s your hello.”

“Mhm” Joel mumbles before he takes your hand in his, guiding you into his truck where you settle in, wrapping the seatbelt around yourself and watching him walk back around the front of the truck to the drivers side, admiring the way his button up hugs his broad form. 

When he sits down, instead of starting the truck he just looks over at you, drinking in your show of skin, hungry glances all over your body until his gaze lands on your tits, the swells of your breasts heaving slightly as you breathe nervously now that you’re alone with him. 

“You look like a goddamn angel, or somethin’,” he finally says, flicking his eyes to the tops of your stockings, and you notice his jaw set tightly while his hands clench in his lap. He softens a little once he looks at your face, amused eyes looking back into his. “Beautiful,” he adds, and you beam at him, twirling a bit of your hair around one of your fingers.

“Thank you,” you say shyly, leaning a little closer to him, knowing your cleavage is only being pushed together that much more at this angle in your seat. “You want me to be your little angel, Joel?”

“Christ…” he says under his breath, reaching his hands up to grip the steering wheel, knuckles going white with the strain of it. “Think you already seem to know the answer.”

“Well, I’ll take it you like my outfit, then. I picked it out special for you,” you tell him cheerfully, flouncing the skirt of your dress in your lap a bit. 

“Sure do,” he says quickly, starting the car, seeming to need to high tail it out of here before he completely ditches the dinner reservation to have his way with you. You opt to just watch Joel drive, observing his profile with a small, thoughtful smile. You see his brows twitch as he feels your stare on him, and he turns to the side while he’s stopped at a red light, giving you a closed lip smile.

“Did you just ask me on a date because you felt bad?” you ask suddenly, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Felt bad?” Joel asks, turning his eyes back to the road. 

“For what happened the other night.”

Joel huffs in the seat next to you, his head shaking the smallest bit. “You think I felt bad about any of that? What gave you that idea, now?”

“I… I don’t know. I was just surprised you still wanted to take me out after…” you trail off, glancing out the window to try and avoid your own spiraling thoughts.

“C’mon, doll, need to give me more than that. If you don’t wanna be here you gotta say.”

“No!” you cry out a little too loudly.

“If you just need to hear me say that I liked fuckin’ your tight little pussy or whatever gets you off, just say it, yeah? Don’t need these roundabout questions like a little brat,” Joel snips, and you swallow hard, realizing he’s gotten the complete wrong idea.

“N-no, nothing like that, Joel, I… I really want to be here, I really do. I guess I was worried,” you suck in a breath. “That you’d just be done with me after you got what you wanted. That’s what other guys have done. Older guys.” You can feel your voice getting mousier, quieting with your confession, afraid that the answer will be exactly what you’re afraid of. Joel’s expression softens, the lines between his brows letting up as his eyes lighten a bit.

“First off, I ain’t other guys, and I want you gettin’ that in your head right now, okay?” Joel says, glancing over to see you nodding small little bounces of your head, eyes wide. “Okay?” he asks again, a little more stern this time, reaching a hand over to grip your thigh.

“Okay.” 

“Good. An’ I ain’t even close to getting everything I want from you, probably never could be, so don’t wanna hear you say anythin’ like that again, got it?” His grip squeezes on your thigh, and you place your hand over it, covering his hand with your own.

Your mind spins, reeling with such a strong confession from him. You don’t know how it’s possible that after one night together, the both of you have something damn near unexplainable, something that’s been nestling itself deep into you since then. You tilt your head a little, giving him a soft smile, feeling all the worries you’d had this entire week start to melt away.

“Got it,” you tell him with a stern nod, your hair falling over your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh a few times. They twitch and clamp together a bit with his praise, the familiar rush of arousal from the other night coming back to you when he used those same words. You catch Joel smirking out of the corner of your eye, the effect he had with those two simple words not lost on him. 

You can see his face steel, his jaw setting tighter as his fingers move up your thigh, unsticking from the bare flesh he’d been touching and climbing upwards.

“You dress like this a lot? Or just wanted to get a rise out of an old man, hm?” he asks, fingers digging into your plush skin a little harder.

You twist your lips into a thoughtful pout, knowing it shows off the shiny pink of your lip gloss a little better, and Joel’s eyes drift there for a brief moment when he glances at you. 

“Sometimes.” You give him an indifferent shrug. “Mostly wanted to see how you liked it.”

“I’ll bet you did,” Joel replies plainly, nearly sounding irritated, but you somehow know that he’s more angry with himself right now, barely able to keep his trembling hand from moving further up your thigh.

“I mean, I thought the stockings might be too much, but don’t you think they go just perfect with this dress?” You trill in an innocent tone to him, moving his hand to play with the lace edges at the top.

“Mmm,” Joel replies, lips pressed tightly together. His fingers bury themselves under the band of the stockings, pads of his calloused hands grazing the skin underneath. You try to hold back a shudder but it’s no use, Joel’s touch is fully electric, sending a zip of pleasure up your spine. 

Your legs spread open wider in the seat, inviting him to move higher and you let out a quieter moan and slide the hem of your dress up a bit higher. You’re warm all over, skin flushing as his hand creeps up towards the apex of your thighs. You admit you’re having even more fun than you thought teasing him. He’d done this same thing to you at the bar, sloppily kissing along your neck until you’d felt nearly insane with need for him, and it gives you a little pump of satisfaction to see him falling apart so quickly. 

“Even got…” you breathe out, “The matching panties on.” Another tiny little mewl slips out when Joel’s fingertips slide along your inner thigh, ever closer to where you know you’re already wet for him. He peers over to see your chest heaving a bit, curves looking so inviting - all it would take was one little tug and your tits would be spilling out, just as they had the other night, so pretty and just for him. 

“Fuck it,” Joel grunts out, tearing his hand away from you and pulling off to the side of the road, turning into a passing neighborhood and swinging the car into the closest driveway to turn around. “I live close by, we’re goin’ to my place right now,” he says. “Fuckin’ wearin’ this little shit to get me all worked up…” His voice is mumbling now, seemingly to angrily talk to himself as he keeps his eyes straight ahead, not looking at you. 

His face is going pink with the effort of holding back from you, grunting while he maneuvers the car and speeds off, booking it towards his house. Your mouth forms perfect O before it splits into a grin, knowing you got exactly what you wanted from him. Something about driving a man like Joel crazy - someone who seems reserved, in control of these kinds of situations, makes you feel a little spark of pride mixed with your dousing of arousal.

“Teach you some damn manners, that’s what I’m gonna do,” Joel mumbles quietly, letting out little sighs of irritation.

“J-joel…?” you ask carefully.

“Mm-mm, not a word right now. You’ve said enough.”

You clamp your lips together, knowing you maybe shouldn’t be as thrilled as you are right now, feeling like sparks are dancing across your skin, magnifying right where Joel holds you, squeezing to where it might leave a bruise tomorrow, as if to hold you down, keep you in this car with him.

“Please…” you whimper, unsure what you’re asking for, just knowing you’re growing more desperate to feel him on you, inside of you.

“Please nothin’. You’re gonna act like this, I’m gonna react accordingly, you got that?” Joel snips, veins on his forehead protruding as he drives along, unable to even look in your direction. You stay silent while he whips through a suburban neighborhood, finally pulling into his driveway. 

“Stay,” he spits out before exiting the car, coming over to your side and opening the door. 

“Thank you,” you coo sweetly, which gets a devious smirk from Joel. 

“You’re tryin’ to be good now, are you?” he scoffs, wrapping his hand around your upper arm. 

“Thought you liked fucking good girls,” you say with a sly smile, repeating his own words back to him. He chuckles low and deep in his chest before tugging you out of the car, keeping one hand on your arm and the other pressed on your lower back, guiding you to the front door. Instead of letting you step out of the way, he presses himself so that you’re between his body and the door as he reaches around to unlock it, keys clanking in his awkward position. 

You can feel him, hard and long, cock painfully erect and pressing against your ass. You fight the urge to grind into him, thinking that maybe he may not see that as something a good girl would do. Instead, you let a little whimper slip out when he digs into you deeper as he turns the nob and pushes the door in. 

“Gonna be makin’ a lot more of those pretty little noises soon, honey,” he says low, near your ear as he nudges you inside. It’s dark, only bits of the setting sun coming through the windows, and you fumble past the doorway, the only anchor you have is Joel’s hand on your back. 

He flicks a switch, illuminating the room with a dim floor lamp, and you can see that you’ve stepped into his living room. It’s modest but cozy, and definitely seems to ooze his busy, bachelor lifestyle with plain, somewhat mismatched furniture. You had to hand it to him, though, just upon first glance he seemed relatively clean, unlike some men’s places you’d visited. 

“This is a nice pl-“ you start, cut off by one of Joel’s arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you into him with a thud. Your back is tight against his chest now, his head burying near the crook of your neck. He’s kissing you urgently - every spot he can find, biting and sucking and flicking his tongue, all gentle but firm, full of an unrelenting passion and frustration.

He groans loudly, hand tracing up your chest to grasp at one of your tits, squeezing it firmly and running his finger over your nipple. Both are hard and aching for him, poking through the fabric of your dress with no bra holding them back. He sucks so hard on a spot on the side of your neck that you gasp and twitch in his hold. He chuckles, quickly soothing the spot with his tongue and lips. 

“Couldn’t wait for me to get my hands on you, is that it? Why you dressed like that, hopin’ I’d bring you back here? Say fuck the nice dinner reservation I made us?” he finally speaks, nearly growling in your ear.

“I just - I-“ you stutter, mind reeling from his warmth blazing into your skin now, his voice rumbling close to your ear, low and gritty and sounding… almost angry with you. You feel a tightening in your core, pooling between your legs and you already start to ache for him, turned on by the way he’s chastising you and covering you with marks. 

“You were such a good girl the other night for me, can you do that again? Or you want to keep bein’ a brat?”

“N-no I liked being good for you, remember?” you blurt out, chest heaving and body fighting the urge to squirm out of his arms and show him, get on your knees and finally get him in your mouth. 

“Didn’t seem to think so in the car… if I didn’t know any better you wanted me to punish you, fuck you fuckin’ dumb ‘til you submit to me. And the thing is, honey, I like my girls to be good f’me. Don’t wanna have to work for it unless I want to.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just wanted to play around, make you a little crazy for me,” you say with a whine, your bottom lip starting to quiver. 

“C’mere, lemme see you,” Joel says, a quick grunt as he spins you around, catching you along your back with one hand, tilting your head up by the chin with the other. He takes in your wide, pleading eyes, plump lips turned into a frightened frown, and sighs. 

“S’okay, doll,” he says much softer, thumbing your chin and then stroking his fingers up your cheek. “Lucky for you I was in the mood to work for it a bit tonight, and you know why that is?”

You shake your head mutely, absolutely dumbstruck by his dark eyes narrowed and looking straight into yours. He’s so beautiful, so much more than you even remembered from the other night. It nearly sends an ache into your chest, just how perfect he is. 

“‘Cause you’re worth it, pretty girl. What kinda man would I be if I didn’t have to work for it a bit, hm?” His voice is changed, a bit more flexible, his tone coming off kinder now. You feel a surprised smile tugging at your mouth and you let it spread a bit, showing Joel that you’re pleased with what he said. 

“Show you how pretty you are…” he trails off, his eyes drifting down to your chest, where he’s watching your curves spilling out the top, your dress pulled down from the way he’d been touching you there. He tugs slowly on the fabric, pulling it so your tits are both spilling out, letting the neckline tuck underneath and press them upwards. 

He leans down to capture your lips in a softer kiss, letting your lips and tongues begin a gentle dance with each other. Joel’s fingers make their way under your dress, sliding the hem up to reach your ass, large palms splaying across both globes. He pulls you even closer, grinding you against his arousal and you groan, absolutely soaking for him, needing for him to touch you where you want him most. 

“Got your ass and tits out like a little whore for me now, don’t you? Like being my little whore?” he grits out, and you nod with a quiet mhm, lolling your head back as he places a few little bites on your neck. 

“Let me fuck you in that bathroom and comin’ home with me the first date ‘fore I can even buy you dinner,” Joel tuts, continuing to knead the plush flesh on your ass, stepping forward so that you have no choice but to walk backwards and further into the living room. He smacks your ass hard before rubbing the spot with a soothing touch. 

“Now get inside and take what you’ve been askin’ for, honey,” he says, stroking the side of your face gently. 

“W-where do you want me?” you ask timidly, looking into his chest before trying to meet his eyeline. He’s so intimidatingly in charge right now you can hardly meet his gaze, dark brown, nearly black in the dimness of the house. 

Joel seems to like your question, smirking and stroking your cheek again, calloused fingers sending a jolt of electricity that travels down your spine. “Good girl for askin’,” he coos, a flash of excitement in his eyes at your docility for him. He takes his hands to your shoulders, gently guiding you to stand in front of the couch. He turns and sinks back into the cushions, watching you stand in front of him, anxious with anticipation. 

“You gonna dress like a slutty little doll, I’m gonna treat ya like one and play with you as long as I want, yeah?” A quick, stunned nod from you before he continues. “Now take off that pretty dress,” he says, his tone deepening with the command. His eyes are glued to your chest where your tits are still popping out of the top, practically burning a hole in you with the intensity, heat creeping over your skin. You lift from the bottom, pulling it over your head in one slow movement, standing before Joel in only the skimpy lacy thong you’d chosen for tonight - white to match your dress and stockings. You reach to pull the stockings down and Joel shakes his head, eyes snapping to where your hands are. 

“Mm-mm, didn’t tell you to do that now, did I? Leave those on, doll. Panties next,” he drawls, and you follow his command, stepping out of your thong and leaving it on the floor beneath your feet. You take a nervous gulp, waiting for his next words, feeling right between your legs slickening even more as his eyes hungrily take you in. 

“C'mon over and sit right here,” Joel says, patting his lap. His words have an immediate effect, just like when he’d asked you to get on your knees at the bar, your body moving for him of its own accord. You pad over the few steps to him and settle yourself onto his lap so that you’re facing him, thighs on either side of his. Joel’s hands find your hips, holding you and stroking his thumbs along your bare skin there. There’s such a stark difference between the two of you right now - Joel, fully clothed, not even a button undone yet on his shirt, and you with the entirety of your body naked and exposed save for your stockings, sitting on top of him because he’d asked for it. All the fabric on your bare skin feels odd in the best way, like you’re doing something so wrong yet so right at the same time, like you’re Joel’s dirty little secret somehow with the way he has you in the palm of his hand right now.

He cocks his head a little, looking at you more seriously now. “Now listen, should’ve said this the other night, but you saw how I like to be in charge of things, right?” he says.

You nod. “Yeah,” you breathe out, just barely. You’re distracted by the feel of his broad, muscled body beneath you, his hard length pressing into you through his jeans. You feel your head swimming but you try to focus on his words.

“So tonight if it gets to be too much, if somethin’ is wrong, you gotta call out ‘red’ for me, mkay?”

You nod again. 

“Gonna need you to use your words, honey.”

“Yes, I got it. Red,” you repeat back to him, and the ghost of a smile comes to his lips. 

“Good girl,” Joel says, tucking your hair behind your ears and smoothing it. “Now…” he trails off, his grip tightening on you in an instant to flip you off of him and next to him on the couch cushions, his body following closely behind so that he’s on top of you. His mouth crashes into yours, all heat and tongue and teeth clashing and you moan into it with surprise, still trying to get your bearings from all the sudden movement.

He slips down your body, his lips trailing a hot, wet mess along the way as he sucks your neck, your tits, briefly swirling a tease of his tongue over one of your nipples before he finds his way between your legs. They fall open for him in your dizzied state and he takes no pause before burying his head there, licking fat stripe up your slit, groaning loudly at the taste of you. He licks the same pattern several times, relishing in all the slick arousal that was just for him, he thinks greedily.

When Joel starts to lap at your cunt in earnest, his tongue poking your entrance before flicking at your clit, repeating the motions over and over, you throw your head back, whining loudly and writhing down into his face and chasing your pleasure.

“F-fuck, I’m -” you whimper. “Joel I’m already gonna -” Your legs shake and he seizes one of your thighs into his palms before the other hand slips between your legs and swiftly buries two fingers inside of you, going deep to press against your g-spot. You’d thought endlessly about that feeling since the night with him in the bar, the way he’d been the first person to show you what you’d been missing, to bring you world ending pleasure when he split you open. You’re desperate for it again, knowing his fingers are enough, but you can’t help but picture the way his girth had stretched you, pressed into you so deeply that you already felt addicted to it.

When he pulls your clit into his mouth, pressing on the spongy part inside of you at the same time, you cry out, feeling your hips bucking into him, body taut and shaking as he pulls your orgasm out of you. His name spills from your lips as easily as anything you’ve ever said in your life, like you’ve been saying it for years and no other man has existed for you, could exist for you.

You slump back, breathless and wanting, a sheen of sweat coating your body from the intensity with which he’d rocked your reality, and you quickly realize he’s likely far from done with you tonight. It makes your stomach churn with anticipation, and you bring yourself back, focusing on the gentle touch of his lips on your sensitive nerves, peppering your pussy with little kisses, leading out to your thighs.

“Good fucking girl f’me, didn’t take long at all, did it?” he says wryly. 

“M-more…” you mumble, blinking your eyes to clear some of the post-climax fog you’re feeling, but it’s no use - Joel can see already how fucked out you are, barely even five minutes in. His heart swells with pride, excitement, the sick satisfaction of having you under his thumb, his to devour completely, body and soul.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, finally meeting your desperate, soft lips with his. He’s on top of you, his body slithering over yours again, pressing against you. Your hands reach up and start to unbutton his shirt, hesitantly at first, but a small noise of approval from him urges you on, indicating that he’s okay with you making that decision. When he finally shrugs it off, you take a moment to pull yourself back from his kisses to gaze down at him, his bare chest revealed to you for the first time. You feel your sex ache as fresh arousal starts to drip out of you seeing the salt and pepper of the curls on his chest, his defined but still soft abdomen, so inviting and sexy. You start to feel nearly feral, your gut coiling tight with the need for him to fuck you again, to watch his perfect body relentlessly use you for his own pleasure.

“S-shit…” you manage to gasp out when you gingerly run a hand down his chest, letting your nails scratch through his hair, and Joel hums against you as his lips find your shoulder. You rake your fingers downwards, leading all the way to his happy trail where you leave your fingers to rest on his belt. He looks delighted at your visceral reaction to his body, never thinking much of it himself, the way it had gotten slightly doughy with age and his hair had already started graying. But seeing you see so much in it that he can feel your legs tighten underneath him, pussy likely fluttering just at the sight, makes his core twist in pleasure and his cock twitch.

He caresses your face gently, his touch soft despite the mischief growing in his eyes. “Don’t think you learned your lesson yet, bein’ such a brat in the car,” he says, letting you start to undo his belt. When his cock springs out, you nearly start again at how length and thick it is, nearly having forgotten just how stunning it was outside the confines of your memory. 

Joel notices your fresh reaction to his cock, the length of him twitching in anticipation to fuck you to pieces, to fuck you into being a good girl again. He can’t help but remember just how much it had shut you up to take his cock just a few nights ago, and he nearly whimpers at the memory alone. 

“N-no? Don’t think so?” you tease back, grinding yourself against his bare and freed cock and Joel responds first with a surly little growl, two of his fingers possessively gripping your chin. His eyes flash in a way that you think should scare you, but you can’t help but feel comforted by Joel’s presence nonetheless.

“Exactly what I’m talkin’ about, bratty little ass, y’are. And let me fill you in on somethin’ for your own good,” he drawls, running his thumb along your lower lip. Your breath is baited as your lips part in invitation to him and he doesn’t slip it inside, not yet, at least. He hikes your hip up with his other hand, angling you towards his body as he steps closer between your legs. “I don’t like brats, I want my girl to be nice ‘n good to me. Are you gonna be nice ‘n good to me, doll?” he says, finishing the thought.

You swallow hard. You don’t know how serious he is, if this is part of some bigger game of his, this dominance he likes to have. You feel a pull in your heart, like you find yourself agreeing with him, that the look he’d given you when he called you good girl and obedient the other night were exactly what you’d been seeking your entire life. There was something there, something to take pride in, that he thought you were doing good enough for him. You’d wanted to tease him tonight, sure, make sure he still thought you were beautiful and sexy, afraid you’d get left behind so quickly in the more than likely slew of women he could have interested in him. Joel’s version of sexy just happened to be someone submissive for him, and the way you’d felt being that for him the other night, so far tonight, it was exhilarating, like a part of you that you’d had no idea existed until now, until him.

“I don’t want to be a brat,” you say quietly, gazing up at him with delicate eyes now, having your decision made. You reach a hand down to his cock, practically pulsating with need for you, sitting so close to your warm heat as he hovers above you. You gently palm it, wrapping your hand around the shaft, admiring the fact that your fingers can’t even fit around the expansive girth of it.

“I want to be your good girl,” you breathe, and Joel’s eyebrow cocks before his thumb settles into your mouth as he groans a little. You sit still, the saltiness of his skin so inviting but you don’t dare move, feeling that it's some kind of test, one you intend on passing.

Joel knows that you’ve figured it out. He strokes the side of your hair lovingly with his free hand and chuckles deep and low, the sound reverberating in the quiet room.

“Suck,” he finally commands, and immediately you suckle on his thumb, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around it. Joel’s eyes flutter a bit and he groans between the feel of your hand on his cock and warm tongue wrapping around his thumb. He pushes it deeper and deeper, another one of his fingers entering your mouth, met with the same enthusiasm by your tongue. He gives a final push of his fingers, gagging you, and your hand falls off his cock, having you distracted enough that you barely notice he’s notched himself at your entrance. When he splits you open with his head you gasp around his fingers, stuffed far back in your throat. It burns and aches and stretches but you feel exhilarated by it, awakened and alive by the absolute girth of him breaking you open and finding a place inside of you as he pushes on inch by inch.

“Good girl,” he whispers roughly, eyes intently locked onto yours as they widen and tear up with all the different intrusive sensations. But despite all of that, your insides warm at his words, finding a home in your heart and nestling in. That’s when you know for sure - you’re done for, you’re a goner, this is the man you’ll spend your life doing this for, chasing and seeking those two little words from him no matter what it takes. You want this.

“Y’sure that’s what you want? Be my good little doll? Be sure before I use you like one,” he says, checking in with you quietly, his lips lingering just above yours.

You nod, your breath hitching, and he can see the fear of the unknown in your eyes, but he smiles at your willingness to try for him. “I want it, I want it, use me, Joel,” you breathe out erratically, the words tumbling out of you without a second thought.

The next moment is nearly a blur, a switch seeming to flip in Joel as pops his fingers out of your mouth, grunting with the effort of yanking your hips upwards so that you have no choice but to wrap your legs around him. He begins a relentless fucking into you, pounding his cock over and over, and its only now that you can see just how well controlled he had been these last few minutes, so collected only to unleash it on you now. Your eyes squeeze shut, rolling back into your head as you bite back the cries of him stretching you so quickly and harshly, so much more rough than the other night.

“Fuck…” he groans, “Tight little pussy, could never forget how good it feels, just like I remembered, baby,” he praises as he continues to jackhammer into you. Your body is crumpled up underneath his huge frame on the couch, legs moving further up his body until they nearly reach his shoulders. He takes the initiative to tug them that way, propping your ankles onto his shoulders before he takes a swift bite at one of them. You yelp but quiet immediately, letting the soft moans you’d been making slip past your lips again instead. 

You see Joel’s approval in his smirk, the way his face contorts with pleasure as he goes red from exertion, his body gathering sweat as you run a desperate hand down his chest. You feel so far away in this position, your lips so far from his, wanting to feel your skin touching in every possible spot. You’re drunk on him already and need more, more of his warmth and his scent and the feeling of him. 

“I want to - p-please, feel you closer, please…” you beg, hoping that your politeness will win him over into doing something that you want.

“Yeah? Want to bounce on this fat cock of mine, pretty girl? That do you some good?”

You nod quickly and urgently, breathing in with the anticipation of being moved as Joel pushes his cock as deep as he can before bracing himself to swap your spots. It feels effortless, the way he contorts the both of you until he’s laying back on the sofa and you’re straddled on top of him. 

“Oh my god…” you murmur when you sink fully down onto him. Your head tilts back and mouth gapes open as you feel him so fully, pressing so deep inside of you at this angle. “Joel…”

“I know, baby, m’so deep in there,” Joel says soothingly now, his demeanor changed for the moment. He starts to move your body for you, achingly slow on his cock while he urges your hips up and down. One hand slides to your belly, gently pushing low down on your abdomen. “Feel m’self right in there, baby, right where I’m meant to be,” he coos, looking at his hand in amazement. 

“Feels so fuckin’... so good,” you whine, starting to move more quickly on top of him. You can’t compare it to anything else, anyone else you’ve ever been with, the way Joel’s cock stretches you with each new thrust, the pain giving way to an aching pleasure as your walls are stimulated over and over by him.

“C’mere,” Joel grunts out, wrapping his bulky biceps around your back and pulling you down so that your top half is more flat against his chest. He slips one hand into your hair, bringing you in for a deep, hungry kiss that you both moan into. At this angle he holds more power, able to thrust up into you after he bends his knees. You’re losing all sense of time, of sensation and noise around you, just Joel Joel Joel Joel Joel fucking into you with everything he’s got, his hot breath on your neck and ear and buried into the side of your hair. His lips warm and wet on any part he can find while you take and take and take what he’s doling out, your cunt starting to ache from the way he’s pounding into you but desperately begging for more, fluttering around his length. Your moans ramp up when you feel your clit start to brush against the curls at the base of his cock, his name whispered into his neck in between your cries. 

“There we go, doll, get what y’need, c’mon,” he says near your ear, urging you on. You’re only brought back to some semblance of reality as Joel smacks your ass with a swift, hard slap and you moan out. A new flutter and gush from your cunt around him makes Joel grunt and he fucks up into you like a crazed, possessed man, intent on only you you you. 

“Tha’s right, honey, so fuckin’ wet for me,” Joel grits, his hips snapping in a nearly impossible pace into you. You think you’re starting to black out, your vision a bit spotty from how hard he’s ramming the entirety of his cock into you, your g-spot so stimulating along with your clit and you’re grasping at the cushions on either side of you, nearly pounding your fists into them as Joel holds you close, not letting you move an inch, not letting this climax get away from either of you. 

“God, Joel, fuck… I c-can’t -“ you whine, your entire body tightening, damp with sweat as your tits slide across his chest with each new thrust. 

“Y’can, now be a good girl and come for me,” Joel says, hot heat of his lips meeting yours for a sloppy kiss, both of your tongues half missing the others’ mouth, making a mess on your faces full of saliva and the remnants of your lip gloss. Everything is so slick, slippery, and you gush between your legs, your wet arousal dripping out around where he enters you again and again. 

You snap, the invisible tether you’ve visualized inside of yourself finally breaking and you let go, practically convulsing on top of Joel with erratic grunts and moans and the lewdest sounds you’ve ever heard yourself make. You bear down on his cock as he rides you through the waves of ecstasy that take over your entire being. 

“Good girl,” he coos over and over, his quiet praises only serving to plunge you further into this blinding hot cavern of bliss that you’ve fallen into. You can feel how his cock slips in and out around the way you’re creaming over his length, and you finally quiet into his chest, a spent mess. 

Joel stops moving for a moment, giving you time to catch your breath as he strokes the back of your head. You nearly want to purr with the contentment you feel as he lightly drags his fingers across your head.

“Your turn,” you finally say, a wry smile pulling at your lips. You pick yourself up a bit, wiggling your hips on him and hissing a little at the oversensitivity of your shot nerves. 

“My turn,” Joel echoes, a devious little twinkle in his eye is all you see before he sits up, pulling you close and kissing you as he ruts his hips into yours a few times. He quickly pulls out of you, handling your body roughly but smoothly as he turns you, pushing you down, knees on the cushions and chest pressing against the back of the couch. He crowds behind you, spreading your knees for you and you can feel his wet cock slap against your ass as he positions you and then himself. 

Joel’s cock forces its way between your legs again, immediately sliding into your wet heat. You bristle a little under the full size of him again, determined to take it like the good girl you say you are and let him spill every drop of cum he has inside of you. You realize you’ve said some version of that out loud in your mental fog when Joel chuckles a low, devious little noise and slams into you hard. 

“Yeah? Want all my cum, want to have me fuckin’ my cum into you, fillin’ you up?” Joel asks and you nod dazedly in reply. He plants a firm hand on your back, sinking you into the back of the couch while he pounds into you, chasing after his pleasure, using you to get himself off. You’ve never been more turned on, and you feel the creeping need of desire filling low in your belly again. 

Joel’s free hand starts to smack your ass relentlessly, as if to spur you on while you bounce your hips back into his movements. 

“Yeah, pretty girl, so good, takin’ this cock like a good girl,” he chants, erratic movements of his hips telling you how close he is. 

“Fuck, fuck, so tight…” he bellows out, “Gonna come inside you, baby.” One more thrust and he’s done for, his hips sputtering and stopping deep inside of you as he unleashes while your cunt flutters, your body reacting in pure effervescent joy to feel his spend coating you again. Joel wraps his arms around your chest, yanking you to fall back with him so that you’re laying side by side, tangled in each other's arms. You both breathe heavily, sweat and stickiness intermingling as you lay so close. 

“We missed our dinner reservation,” Joel says after a few moments of silence stating the very obvious. “We could order some takeout, how’s that sound?”

You listen to the beat of his heart where your head rests on his chest, steady and strong as it still comes down from his climax. You hum a little approving noise, nodding your head. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you tell him, barely able to care much about anything else right now. You think in this completely fucked out, limp state you’d let him feed you practically anything, spooning each bite into your mouth like you’re a helpless child. The thought makes you shudder a bit, a feeling of fear creeping over you that someone could have such an effect on you as to change you like that, to pull this side of you out that you’d buried deep inside. 

“Don’t wanna move, though,” you whine, snuggling down onto his chest. 

“I know, I know,” Joel says soothingly with a hand running down your hair. “Gonna have to eat to keep up with what I’m gonna do to ya next, though.”

You lift an intrigued brow and glance up at his face to find him already giving you an amused expression. “I’ll order us some food, why don’t you put on your pretty dress again and we’ll pretend we got our date, how about that?” he says.

You bite your lip in an effort not to smile too widely, and you give him another nod of agreement, finally sitting up and then clambering off the couch and stretching. Joel’s eyes roam your still bare body, unable to believe he could be ready for another round this quickly when his cock twitches at the sight. You throw on your dress and adjust it, smoothing the sides of your hair. 

“How do I look?” you ask innocently with a twirl, as if he hadn’t just been buried deep inside of you, stealing any semblance of reality from your very being. 

“Perfect,” he says with a chuckle. 

Joel orders Chinese food, and the two of you sit at his kitchen table, a candle lit that Joel had dug out from deep within a cabinet sitting between you two at the table. 

While you’re already sure the physical attraction with Joel isn’t wanting for anything, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that you two are connecting on all sorts of topics - from old country music that you listened to growing up to your dream vacation destinations. It seems like you two have more and more in common the longer you talk, or at the least, have an interest in the things the other person is saying. You can’t help but feel like you have a lot to learn from Joel, someone who has life experience, different interests (“old man interests” you tease him), and a whole new perspective on the world. You could listen to him for hours, sitting with your chin in your hand and lashes fluttering as you gaze at his perfect lips speaking about all of these new things. 

“Can I tell you something?” you finally say during a quiet moment, when your plates have long been pushed away, swirling your third glass of wine in your hand. One foot is planted on the dining chair, knee tucked up to your chin where you rest it, lip worrying in between your teeth. 

“Mhm, ‘course,” Joel says casually, sipping from his own glass. 

“When I said I couldn’t find my passion before… I’ve always known what it is, what I want out of life. I just can’t… say it because it sounds, well, silly.”

“Try me,” Joel replies coolly, his eyes flickering with curiosity. 

“I’ve always wanted to be -“ you hesitate, swallowing hard. “The reason someone comes home. The person they come home to. That’s it. That’s all I want. My parents… they never had that. Sure, they came home, but only because there wasn’t anything else to do, nowhere else to go. I never felt it from them. I’ve always wanted to just take care of someone and be that for them…” you confess, trailing off as your cheeks heat with the tipsy confession, slightly embarrassed to reveal it to Joel. 

He considers your words with a small hmm and a cock of his head. “You’re talkin’ about a marriage, yeah? You wanna be a married woman.”

You nod, breathing out a sigh. “Women I know, and my parents, oh god, would probably freak out if that’s what I told them. That I just want to be someone’s wife, make each other happy. Be there for them. It’s something I’ve been too scared to admit until now, because my parents just want me to go to school, get a job, and be successful in the ways they’re successful, but…” you pause to glance at Joel, then back down to the table, tracing your nail along the knots in the wood. “What if I want to be successful in the ways they aren’t?”

Joel’s face contorts slightly, feeling your pain. “You gotta do what you need, sweetheart. Fuck what anyone else says,” he says plainly. “I can relate, y’know. I was married before.”

You snap your gaze up to him, somehow surprised, but realizing maybe you shouldn’t be, that this man is well into his forties now and has lived an entire life before ever laying eyes on you. “Yeah? And…”

“Was all pressure. Wasn’t right. Divorced over ten years ago, so don’t feel too sorry f’me. Her parents had all this pressure on us gettin’ married but I knew she wasn’t the right one for me. Ended up divorcin’ five years later.” He tuts at the memory - the waste of time, the endless arguments, the strain of it all for nothing.

“I’m sor-“ you start, cut off by Joel grabbing your hand across the small table, dwarfing it in his palm.

“Said don’t be sorry for me, yeah? I’m sittin’ here with you now, aren’t I?”

A smile tickles at the corners of your lips and you look down bashfully, letting your fingers curl around his. “Yeah, guess that’s true.”

“Come on over here,” Joel says, patting his lap and setting his wine glass on the table with a small clink. 

You slide out of your chair, padding over and getting into his lap effortlessly. His fingers spread along your back to support you and you curl your legs up, resting against his chest. 

“Y’know marriage is a lot, right? I know you know, you’re a smart girl, can tell you’ve thought about this.”

“I know,” you snip. “It’s not something I’ve ever taken lightly. I just… that’s what I want.” You don’t know how to express to him the yearning deep inside of you, the way you’d watch your parents moving in parallel lives, just happening to share children and a home, and wishing for anything more than that. Praying you’d never meet that same fate, that you’d be so sickly, passionately in love with your future spouse that the entire world could know from a single glance. That you’d give your life to make sure they were well taken care of, and they’d do the same for you.

“Sweet girl,” Joel says quietly, nuzzling his nose against the top of your head. “I know you’ll get what you’re lookin’ for. Anyone’d be lucky to have you.”

Your skin heats at his close contact and adoring words, your stomach twisting a little with the anticipation that it could be him - could Joel be the one lucky to have you, as he said?

“W-would you?” you stutter out, licking your suddenly desert dry lips. “Have me?”

“Honey, I’d have you a hundred different ways and never tire of it. Such a sweet, smart, special little thing you are.”

Your lips purse into a smile, fighting the urge to giddily giggle right in his lap. You tilt your head up to kiss him, a motion he gladly returns as he deepens it for a few moments, tasting remnants of the wine on each other's tongues. 

“That what you want? Want me to have ya?” he asks quietly, the question carrying more weight in your mind than maybe he’d meant. 

“Yes,” you say, a whisper into the quiet air of his house.

“Stay w’me then, this weekend. Don’t wanna let you out of my sight.”

You nod, nearly imperceptible as your mouths meet again, passion driving the kisses now as you squirm in his lap, desire igniting every cell of your body. Joel chuckles against your already puffy lips and shakes his head. 

“Gonna ruin me, you know that?”

Three months later, Joel proposes to you in a park you frequently walk in together, a perfectly sunny and breezy spring day with the smell of fresh blooms surrounding you. You have on a pink dress, matching the explosion of color around you in the budding and blossoming trees and bushes. Joel wraps a hand around yours before getting down on one knee and revealing a solitaire diamond in a black velvet box, promising you all of the things you’d revealed to him in private months before. Someone to come home to. Someone who will come home to you. Succeed together in all the ways you’ve always wanted. Cherish you. And most importantly, love you for who you are.

[zerobaseonefics]

shutting them up with a kiss ㅡ haruto, jongwoo, matthew, junhyeon & gunwook

boys planet trainees x gn!reader

requested : their reactions to shutting them up with a kiss.

genre : fluff, a bit angsty on the haruto one

• haruto

haruto was on a survival show, boys planet. after the second elimination, they let the boys have some rest to go and see their family and friends. as his family in japan, you were the first person that came into his mind, so here he was, at your place. you were more than thrilled when you saw him, and after eating together, you ended up on your couch.

"so, how's it ?" you asked him, eager to know all the gossips and backstages of the show.

at first, he was mostly telling you funny anecdotes about what was happening there. then, he complained about the staff. little by little, things were getting a bit more serious, and haruto started to tell you about his true feelings.

"you know, i have fun there, even if it's stressful but... i worry about the image the editors are conveying to the star creators. i feel like they rarely give me screen time that showcase my hard work nor my talent, you know ? like, i'm only shown when i'm saying something funny."

you listened patiently to his concerns, showing him with small reactions that you were truely interested in what he was saying.

"this is not my first survival show. and i told my parents i'd go back to japan if i haven't debut after i graduated high school."

the worry on haruto's face was starting to be more visible. he was confortable enough with you to show you how he felf. you took his hand in yours, encouraging him to keep going. you knew he needed to get this off his chest.

"so, yeah. i'm kinda scared because my rank are not high enough, and they don't picture me as someone who is good enough to debut. i'm afraid the people who watch the show picture me as a comic relief more than anything and this show is my last chance so... you know, i'm starting to think maybe it was all a waste of time"

without a warning, you leaned in and planted a deep kiss on his lips. he was surprised at first, but then he found himself comforted by the gesture. now, the only thing that mattered was the feel of you next him, and now the warm of your embrace as you pulled him in your embrace.

when you broke apart, you didn't wait to encourage him.

"i don't think it was a waste of time to chase your dreams. you're surely more talented than what mnet shows on tv, but i'm pretty sure most of the star creators know that. this is a big show, so even if you don't end up debuting, you haven't lost. it's an opportunity and you gained lots of fans and support through it. you'll surely have debut plans proposed to you after it, because you are that talented. don't worry okay ? in my book, you're P01."

haruto felt the tears coming to his eyes, at first because of the stress, but when you started talking, it was the relief. he felt so much better after your words, and he simply hid his face in the crook of your neck.

"i don't know what i'd do without you."

• jongwoo

jongwoo and you had been dance rivals for years now. always pushing each other to do better in order to beat the other. you two were in the same dance crew for a while now, and you knew each others for years. because of that, you were constantly fighting to know who will be the leader of the crew, as you two were the best dancers.

this competition results in you guys always bickering and teasing each other, creating a tension between you two. but you still respected each other and admired your talent and work.

there was a dance competition coming soon, and your coach decided that in order to win, he had to send his best dancers, namely, jongwoo and you.

you complained so much about working with each other, and you guys struggled to create a choreography because you kept up fighting about what was better. but, at the end of the day, you always found a way of compromise.

the dance was a bit intimate. nothing too much, they were just moments were you had to touch each other and be close, portraying the relationship of two lovers. and there is where lies all the difficulty. for as long as he could remember, jongwoo always had a crush on you. it was a secret he never told to anybody. on the other hand, the feeling was mutual since recently. when you were practicing, your eyes couldn't help but find their way to jongwoo, admiring his dance skills. your feelings made it hard for the both of you to focus during the intimate parts, and you two covered your shyness with even more bickering.

there was this part of the dance where you were face to face, his hands on your waist while yours were making their ways to his shoulders. and jongwoo couldn't keep his chill whenever this part came up, firstly because he was too shy, but also because you were never doing correctly.

in fact, you never touched him fully, your hands only brushing lightly his skin. he never said anything about it, but he was still thinking about winning the competition, so he understood it was time he corrected your posture.

"look, i know it's awkward for you because the dance is a bit affectionate but, please do it correctly."

"what do you mean ? i'm doing it the right way", you tried to defend yourself.

"let me show you."

he pulled you closer by your wrist, lightly in order not to hurt you. after that, he faced you, placing your arms on his shoulder the way they were supposed to be. finally, he completed the move by placing his own hands on you.

"we're supposed to do it that way, otherwise the whole story we're supposed to deliever through the choreography would be messed up. we have to look like lovers, so please touch me the right way so it won't look weird. if you really have a problem with the move, we can change it"

he kept talking about some of the other close moves you weren't doing right, but the way he haven't let go of you made you lose focus on his words, looking at him. now, your eyes were focused on his face only, and you couldn't help but realize he was good looking. like, really good looking. he started to feel his gaze on you, slightly slowing down his words to look at you back.

"if we want to win we cannot do it that way, so... uh... why are you looking at me like that ?"

despite his eternal beanie, you could see his ears go red. both of you felt that strange electricity between you, and just like a magnet, you couldn't help but get your face closer to him, without your lips touching him yet.

"are you going to kiss me or something? i-i'm not saying that's what i want but if you want to kiss me i won't stop y-"

that was enough for you to finally press your lips on him. for a moment, he was unsure what to do, not realizing you were kissing him directly. but then, he responded, his grip on your waist thightening a bit. it was only a brief moment, but it was enough to make you feel like your legs were week.

"i'm sorry", you said once you two pulled away. he simply smiled, still not letting you go from his embrace.

"i don't know if you're suggesting to put that in the choreo, but i liked it" he said, making you giggle a bit, before he leaned in again.

• matthew

if there was a word to describe your relationship with matthew, it was... confusing. you shared the same friend group, and at first he was just your friend's friend. with time, you two grew closer, to the point where what you had was a bit ambiguous.

you may tell everybody that you guys are just friend, no one would trust you.

at first, your friends thought it was funny, the little games you two played. sometimes you two would flirt, sometimes you'd try to make each other jealous, or you'd bicker, and sometimes you were just regular friends. but, they never thought those games would last that long, they hoped eventually one of you would finally make the effort to ask the other out. they would tease you to let the you know how the other felt.

but it's been a year since this relationship was going and neither you nor matthew did a step toward the other.

in reality, the fact that they kept teasing you but none of you had confessed yet made you both doubt. matthew thought after all they said, and the way he acted with you, you knew he liked you. and if the feeling was mutual, maybe you would have asked him out. but you never did, so he never dared to try anything with you.

little did he know, you thought the same thing, and that's why you were to afraid to confess to him. that is how you two ended up with this confusing relationship were you both are idiots in love, but too dense to realize the feeling is mutual.

until jiwoong had enough.

"gyuvin, i have a mission for you."

"what ? are you jerry from totally spies or something ?"

"come on bro it's serious matter, it's for the world's peace."

"okay you got me at the world mission anyway. what is it about ?"

"you're gonna flirt with y/n."

"and now you've lost me."

gyuvin was looking at jiwoong in shock, not getting why he would flirt with you.

"y/n is basically with matthew, and they are my friends, why would i do that ?" continued gyuvin, offended.

"the thing is they are NOT together!" insisted jiwoong.

"but you know how it is... both of them are just waiting for a sign to get married or whatever."

"the problem is they had enough signs and didn't do shit yet. i can't stand them whining anymore about their one-sided feelings when they could be together already.", explained the oldest.

"okay but why would i flirt with y/n then...", said gyuvin, still not understanding.

"because matthew would see you as a menace and finally step the fuck up."

"why don't you do it yourself ?"

"because i flirt with all my friends and matthew wouldn't care as much as if it was you."

"...fair enough."

it was enough to convince gyuvin, because he was tired of you and matthew's bullshit anyway. the plan started the day after jiwoong talked with gyuvin, and the three days that followed, gyuvin kept on hitting on you. jiwoong's role in the plan was to be the little devil on matthew's shoulder. your friend group went to the amusement park that day. matthew was sitting on a bench, jiwoong next to him as he observed you and gyuvin taking pics a little further.

"damn... don't you think gyuvin and y/n grew closer these days ?"

"right...", sighed matthew.

"maybe you should do something about it'', advised jiwoong.

"i don't know jiwoong, they kinda look like they like him."

"they clearly don't. but if you want my opinion, it's your sign to confess before y/n actually ends up liking him."

"what if they reject me ?"

"at least you won't have regrets about it."

matthew kept thinking about his friend's words, contemplating wether or not he should really ask you out, to the point where he became extremely silent. you noticed it, and you finally left gyuvin's side to talk to matthew. jiwoong got up, letting the two of you together as he joined gyuvin.

"hey. is anything wrong ?" you said.

"hm ? no, i'm okay. why ?" he answered.

"i don't know, you seem lost in your thoughts."

his hands were flat on the bench, so you let yours on top of his.

"whatever it is, i can listen to you. maybe i'll be able to find a solution."

matthew felt the butterflies making their way into his stomatch after you touched him. the thought of you doing the same thing to gyuvin came up suddenly, and it got to him.

"look, i know you might like gyuvin but... well no, do you like gyuvin ? i just hope you don't because i was there before him and i felt like it was going nice between you and me and it's pissing me off that you two became that close because i liked you for a while now and i was wondering if you'd like to go out with me, but if you don't i get it 'cause-"

matthew was stumbling over his words at this point,

you placed a quick peck on his cheek to get his attention, and he felt his face get warm because of the sweet gesture. he finally turned his head in your direction, looking at you in disbelief. matthew face slowly lit up, still proceeding everything. you took the hand that was under yours as you leaned in once again, this time going for his lips. it was a small kiss, innocent, that still left him speechless.

"i'd love to go out with you."

• junhyeon

"are you almost done ?"

"no."

"okay... and now ?"

you let your head hit the table. there was this homework due in two hours that you totally forgot about. when you remembered about its existence, you went straight up to the desk in your room, pulling out your laptop to work. but there was something else you forgot about : your boyfriend, junhyeon, was supposed to come over.

you were halfway in the work when he knocked on your door. you told him to wait for you until you finish your work, because it was very important. so you were on your desk, and he was laying on your bed, waiting for you to finish.

but it's nothing more than a fantasy to imagine him staying quiet while waiting. at first, he did, scrolling on his phone, not disturbing you. then, an hour went by, and he started to lose patience.

"y/n, i feel lonely."

"loneliness comes in pair with silence. therefore, please shut the fuck up."

he simply whined as you tried to focus again on your work. after a few minutes, you started to feel thirsty. you turned to junhyeon's direction.

"babe, could you please grab me water ?"

"i don't know... should i ?, he replied in a teasing tone. you just sighed, about to get up to take it yourself, when junhyeon grabbed your desk chair to pull it toward the bed he was sitting on.

"how about you take a break ?" he said.

"junhyeon, i swear i'm almost done. you can wait for a bit then i promise i'll be all yours."

"but i'm boreeddd... plus, it's been a while since we got to hang out together. i miss y-"

junhyeon couldn't finish his sentence, because your lips ended up on his. it was not only because you wanted him to stop talking, but he looked all pouty and down you couldn't control yourself. he met you eagerly, his lips soft against yours, finally getting what he wanted since he got here. you pulled away when you remembered the work still waiting for you, leaving junhyeon still wanting more.

"is it enough for you to wait for me ?"

he gently pushed your chair back to the desk before letting himself fall back on the bed.

"i'll take a nap, hurry up."

• gunwook

gunwook could swear he wasn't the jealous type. in fact, he did swear many times that he wasn't. and he lied all of those times because he definitly is.

it's not that he didn't trust you, far from that. he admired you in so many ways, and he knew most people admire you as well. the problem is, gunwook is not confident enough.

you know, he's trying to stick to that one persona, of the confident, strong, and powerful boy. but it's more of a facade he's pulling to convince people it's truly who he is.

so, yeah, when he saw you that day, laughing so hard to junhyeon jokes, he didn't like it. calm down, gunwook, they are just laughing! that's what he repeated to himself, trying not to let that get to him. in fact, he was dramatic about it. gunwook didn't try to interfere between you two : after all, the three of you were friends. wouldn't he be a bad boyfriend if he just pulled you away from junhyeon and for what ? laughing at his jokes ?

he definitly didn't want to be that kind of boyfriend. come on gunwook, think ! what do you do now ? this is a situation of crisis, this is how everything start. they start by laughing and then you don't have time to realize that they are already getting married !

yes, it was time for him to... assert his dominance.

trying hard to look composed and cool, he passed his arm around your shoulders, pulling you a bit closer.

"hey, y/n ! how about we go and i show you how funny i am."

"...what ?"

"no cuz what.", added junhyeon.

gunwook throw thunder to junhyeon through his eyes, and his friend didn't need much to understand he was jealous. after all, he knew gunwook, they already talked about his jealousy toward other people. a smirk made his way to junhyeon's face.

"y/n, who do you think is funnier between gunwook and i ?"

"oh you did not", said gunwook in disbelief.

"well, you are both funny...?"

you were kinda dense to be honest. you didn't even realize junhyeon was teasing gunwook.

"what do you mean we are both funny ?? i'm funnier, right ?", told you gunwook.

"that's not the same thing, you don't have the same type of humor anyway, it's not even comparable..."

"okay but you like my type of humor better ?"

"what kind of question is this"

"gunwook... don't tell me you are... jealous ?", said junhyeon in a dramatic tone, gasping after the last word.

junhyeon was having the time of his life. he crossed his arms, a smile on his face as he watched gunwook rambling and going crazy about nothing.

"i'm not jealous ! why would i be jealous ? you guys were just laughing, right ? in fact, i make y/n laugh way more than you do junhyeon ! i make them laugh 2x, no, 10x more !"

"are you really jealous about me laughing to his jokes ?", you said in disbelief.

"oh he definitly is", responded junhyeon.

"i am not because i am funnier anyways."

"well that's not what y/n said..."

"y/n please don't let me lose to kum junhyeon"

"gunwook, there is no competition..."

"okay but what if-"

at this point, it was getting ridiculous to you. not to junhyeon tho, he loved the view. gunwook just started rambling even more, telling nonsense. junhyeon was eager to see what you would do. suddenly, you had an idea.

"gunwook." you said, making him stop in his monologue.

"what ?"

you simply went closer to gunwook, giving him an innocent peck on the lips. you finally silenced the gunwook who was freaking out seconds before. a pink tint started to creep on his cheeks, as junhyeon let out a loud scream.

"DON'T KISS IN FRONT OF ME??"

[fumifooms]

Hi hi! I'm sure you have loads of asks to get through. But if you may, we talk a lot about Chilchuck and Marcille (as we should 'cause they're great!), but since you've mentioned that Laios is your fave char, I would love to hear if you have any takes on Laios and Izutsumi's dynamic. I feel sometimes like she doesn't really like him...? It's funny but I also feel bad for him sometimes. ^^;;

You can’t ask me this and expect me to not drop everything else I’m doing. Little did you know they are my brotp. They are so special. Izutsumi gets along more with literally everyone in the party, but their relationship was so narratively important. They’re a really underrated and overlooked dynamic! I’ve had them as a topic at the back of my mind for a while, seeing someone else interested was all the push I needed gdbdg. This isn’t super long though, their issues with each other and lil arc is surprisingly brief and easy to summarize.

Laios & Izutsumi : what’s their deal with each other

For me one foundational train of thought for Izutsumi & Laios is, well. I read this awesome smart post deconstructing how Izutsumi’s beef with Laios is because she only just broke free and wants freedom without having someone ordering her around, and that’s sort of her whole character arc, isn’t it?

Isn’t Izutsumi’s picky eating a reflection of just that? In a life where she was a slave, she could at least control what she chose to eat and not eat. But then you might wonder, why did the narrative want her to grow out of that? Simply put, Izutsumi has a contrarian streak, one that is often extremely counterproductive. We saw that especially near the beginning, with how hard it was to make her work with them as a team. The issue is that now that she is free, she needs to not block out others by habit, to not lash out and refuse the healthy things in life, the people who want good for her. And that’s something that’s addressed in the succubus chapter as well as the fight against the ice golem, that she shouldn’t insist that she can do everything alone and fight against any team effort.

I love how onesided the Laios izutsumi dynamic is. He stays away from her generally, like doesn’t interact much, but he wants the cat pats… Which Izu made clear she did NOT want. And Chil is the only one in the party to not really see her as a cat for most of the story really, as shown in the relationship chart. He’s well meaning and wants the best for her, but he crowds her and doesn’t understand her at all. But he reallyyy wants to get along with her.

On the other hand, Izutsumi’s very existence and identity gave Laios an immense amount of hope that Falin could be brought back and still be herself and live well, even if she still had part of a dragon’s soul in her. I think that’s a lovely way to contrast the way that Izutsumi hates herself as a beastkin and her body, while Laios is like "Thank you, your existence as you are is the answer to all my worries" AND he super likes monster bodies and beastkins so it’s like. I think part of her hostility to him, besides feeling like he doesn’t understand her perspective and is maybe dismissive of what his party members want (which would remind her of Maizuru to some degree probably), is that he says all these good things about her being a beastkin, and it’s so jarring with her own version of herself that it raises her hackles and she reacts negatively, especially with how flippant and eager he is about it. But yes like, this is their first meeting!! Beyond his interest in her as a beastkin because of his monster hobby, Laios is just so very grateful for her and chooses to put his trust in her.

That’s interesting too, how one of the first things she asks about upon meeting them is why the hell they would want to rescue Falin even if she were to stay as a chimera-beastkin and still have the dragon soul in her. It’s her asking "Who would want to stick with a beastkin?" thinking that there’s something fundamentally wrong with having two souls and it making you unlovable. And their differing views on monsters do make them clash

But ultimately he chills out about her, which ironically enough shows in the way that they don’t interact much- He gives her space, and accepts that the beastkin may not like him. BUT at the end of the day they have an incredible bond of trust- Laios asks Izutsumi to kill him if something goes wrong with the Winged Lion. Not only is that sort of an intimate request and act, but that means that he leaves it up to Izutsumi’s judgement as well to know if it went wrong and when to act. He doesn’t only trust her skills but also her decision making, despite how tough they’ve been on each other in the past. He’s giving her the ultimate role, the go ahead to make or break their plan and be the difference between saving or destroying the world. And the last tidbit of info we get on their relationship in canon is when she hides behind him because she’s shy- Certified having befriended the cat moment. She trusts him and sees him as a safe person! And by saying that she’s shy, he’s showing that he did end up understanding her and how she is.

No matter the rocky parts of their relationship, they still have a strong foundation to it and were great allies and road companions, one of the few persons that had each other’s back when it mattered the most, both for the world and for their personal arcs. And post-canon, well…

He’s accepted that she needs space and whatnot, and meanwhile she’s accepted his interest in monsters and taken it in stride 😌 They end up having this familiarity with each other and even if there’s still a bunch of emotional distance imo and they never really got into the nitty gritty with each other not like her with Chilchuck or even Marcille, they see each other. They nod in greeting and respect each other from afar……. But also still tease and chat familiarly up close and if she offers him the opportunity for cuddles he will take it. You know, if it’s not her just falling onto him because she’s sleeping she has no respect.

Siblings behavior… If you know my take on the general party dynamics, I love thinking of Laios & Izu’s dynamic as him being an older brother figure where they have a love-hate relationship. Siblings rivalry. I have a bunch of funny little doodles I’ve wanted to make with them for months, the prompts for which are in the screenshot put below. But yeah like you know, they’re protective of each other but in that very critical way as well, truly forged by being stuck with each other for a while and having to come to understand and accept how the other is. Strife with conflict, but ultimately sticking with each other through thick and thin… Siblings siblings SIBLINGS SIBLINGS SIBLINGS. Sigh I just want them to cuddle on a couch and she purrs while simultaneously being snide and mean to him, they are so… Izutsumi is the character ever

Oh, which! While I’m here, I always recommend this fanfic about the two of them interacting and Laios treating her like a cat, it’s just fun and lighthearted. They’re suuuuch an underrated duo

If I find more Laios & Izu moments I think are worth sharing I’ll just add it onto this I think. We shouldn’t be too hard on him he was raised by dogs so cats are a whole other language to him but also, so wild to me that he never tried to engage with her on a cat level properly like where is the hissing at the catgirl and the cat taming moments, he sucks at socializing with cats smh smh.

I want to do an analysis of queerness in Dungeon Meshi with relationships and social norms and stuff and Izutsumi’s arc is gonna be central to that too. Her relationship with EVERYONE is SOOO GOOD AND IMPORTANT AND COMPELLING. But I guess this is where I leave it off for now, I hope I’m not forgetting any point I wanted to make hmmm

[jacks-little-jacky]

I don't know if you have done this before. Can you do a NSFW Scenario with Jack and a virgin female? like he finds out that she is a virgin and is really soft with her?

Popping Cherrys | Jack the Ripper x Reader | NSFW

No, I'm honestly surprised, but I think I haven't written about Jack popping someone's Cherry. Sigh, disappointed with myself. Good that you mentioned it, sweet anon!

Warnings: Smut under the cut, cherry popping, p in v, fluffy Jack, a bit awkward starter reader

Having Jack as your boyfriend was... Interesting. He was a touchy person, not all too aware of the concept of "personal space". Or he just really liked to invade these spaces. Maybe both.

His behavior made it obvious you couldn't keep your innocence a secret for too long. When Jack found out, he was a little surprised. Not that he thought it was bad, quite the opposite.

You felt a little odd, knowing Jack had experience. It wasn't like he ever was shy or embarrassed of his history. Even less with you and when you asked questions. If anything, he reveled in the way your cheeks heated up and you got embarrassed all of a sudden.

Thinking back on it, he probably should've made the connection of you being a virgin sooner, given your reactions to certain topics and moments. He just figured such a pretty lady would've had enough chances before him. And you probably had, he was just shocked that he was the one you'd take.

Taking the step to start having sex was something you had to initiate. Jack tried his best to be patient, settling for hugs, or an arm around you whenever he could. The tall captain did not want to put any pressure on you, if you wanted to eventually have sex with him that was fine. Having your heart was already way more than he had thought possible for himself.

Your first time happened after a night out with Jack. The mood was good and light and you already often slept together, or more like slept in the same bed together. As you settled down happy giggles and jokes were shared, playful kisses teasing upon the other's lips.

A little making out, a bit bolder than usual but nothing too new. Jack was laying down on his back, having you above him. His one hand on the small of your bag while the other was playing with your hair. His boner was poking against your ass, although this time didn't make you nervous. It happened a lot before too, Jack would always laugh and tell you to ignore it.

It wasn't like he could control him but one boner wouldn't kill him. Especially if he got more kisses.

Just today, the heat between your legs was making you bold. Not only thinking but actually acting on it. You slowly started to rock your hips back and forth on his, enjoying the hard outline of his cock and how it made you feel when it rubbed against that special spot between your legs.

Jack let out a startled groan, eyes opened wide in suprise as he stared up at you. A shy smile creeping on your lips in response. "Is this okay?", you whispered. Jack felt his throat tighten, his mouth running dry as he started nodding softly, without even thinking about it. "More than okay, keke.", he responded after a moment.

His hands slowly settled on your hips, slight pressure on his fingertips digging into the supple flesh as he supported your movements. Your breath shuddered, your lips meeting his eager ones again.

There was something nice about this, about feeling the heat and sensation of just dryly humping on your boyfriends twitching but still clothed cock. The way your lips pressed against one anothers, the shaky breaths between.

When you pulled back, Jack opened his eyes again. The golden hue almost completely hidden behind the black of his dialated pupils. Jack started up at you like you've put up the stars and the moon in the nightsky. Like you were a goddess that simply allowed him to gaze at her beauty, barely sure if he was allowed to actually grasp you, feel you.

A light chuckle escaped you. "Are you okay?", you asked softly, biting your lip. Something about how his breathing had changed, how his chest moved up and down more rapidly while his eyes started at you with a few strands of messy hair covering parts of them.

"Not gonna lie, I'm so fuckin' horny right now.", he whispered before laughing. "What kind of spell did you put me under?" "Love, perhaps?" "... You're cheesy, keke."

Both of you shared a little laugh at that. You tilted your head, pursing your lip and trying to grasp the tension from before. "So... Would you like to?..." "To...?", Jack questioned. "... Do... something... about our lust?"

Jack stared blankly at you for a long while. "... That has to be the weirdest way of asking someone to pop your cherry I've yet heard of.", he muttered before chuckling. "Yes. I'd like to, if you're sure.", he added quickly before the weirdness of the moment could force you to back out.

"I...-", you started, "I think... I thought about it for a while. Just... be careful, yeah? I'm not too sure how... to... well, what to do with myself." Jack nodded at your admission, thumb gently massaging the spot where his fingertips firmly grasped your skin earlier.

"Come here...", he whispered before pulling you down by the neck. His grasp was firm but not forceful. He tilted his head a little sideways before kissing you again, this time the kiss had more urgency and purpose. Although still a bit nervous, you couldn't help but like how delicate his one hand was running up your hip and to your back, and sooner than later you were melting into his kisses again.

As you shared more and more kisses, you felt Jack's hands slowly adventure to your sides again before going up to grasp one of your breasts. He stroked and massaged through the fabric of your clothes, ensuring you'd be fine and comfortable with the action. Then he slowly and almost teasingly pulled down the cutout of your top, his fingers grazing while your nude flesh was revealed to him.

The biggest grin spread on his lips as the soft sounds of your pleasure reached his ears when he gently pinched and teased your nipple. He made sure to play gently with it, pulling at your clothes so both of your breasts would get the same amount of love from him. Picking favorites would be rude, after all.

"Does that feel good, lovebug?", he asked in a quiet whisper, his lips grazed your neck and you could feel his breath against your shivering skin. "Yeah...", you nodded. "Good", he cooed, "tell me if I do something that doesn't feel good."

The tall man kissed down your neck, over your collarbone down to where his lips would join his teasing fingers. His long tongue pressed flat against your nipple before wrapping his lips around and gently sucking. Your fingers wrapped in his hair, grip tightening and pulling at his hair causing him to groan against your perky bud.

After a few more moments, he pulled away, grabbing your top and lifting it a little to gesture that he wanted to take it off. "Can I?", he asked. You only nodded, nervous excitement bubbling in your stomach. Not a second after your given consent the clothing was pulled off and thrown onto the ground next to the bed.

Drinking in the sight of your bare chest, his eyes practically sparkled. Adoration and lust in his gaze swirling like waves in a honeyed ocean. "You're perfect", his raspy voice breathed out.

"Simply...", he started, licking his lips as his mind searched for a word fitting enough to describe you, "... divine." Your breath hitched when the word finally got uttered by him. It wasn't exactly unlike Jack to praise you, show his affection verbally too but it was unusual for him to use these kinds of words. Fancy words, as he'd put it.

But in this moment, he didn't care, didn't care that the words he spoke were unfitting for him because they were the only ones worthy to be used when putting you into perspective. What you were to him, how you made him feel.

The shy smile grazing your lips made Jack grin in delight too. He was leaning more forward, more and more until you fell back on the bed with him above you, your positions flipped. A moment later your lover had lost his shirt too, coming down to kiss you. His torso pressed on yours, feeling your hot skin against his.

The urgency shared betwen your lips was mutual. It wasn't simply lust anymore, it was need, need to be closer, closer than ever before. To be one.

Your hands explored Jack, going through his hair in a familiar motion before creeping down and over his back, nails digging little red stripes over his pale skin. Feeling the muscles flex and ripple with each of his movements.

At this point it became like a dance, like a trance. You stepped through the motions, discarding of your pants and his. Your head felt dizzy, fuzzy and you weren't even sure how it got to the point when both of you were fully naked on the bed with him laying between your legs.

Although you were very aware of it, and how it felt different from the clothed dry humping from before. The way his tip would graze your clit, pulling out loud moans. Installing a feeling deep within your loins, like something was missing. Your walls clamping around nothing in desperation. Suddenly, everything was on fire, all hot and you felt like Jack above you was a burning fire saving you from a cold snowstorm.

You moaned out for the man above you subconsciously. His name spilling from your lips and seeping into his mind. Jack would never forget, how his name sounded from your lips in that moment, echoing from the walls and burning into the deepest pits of his brain.

Although something deep within him screamed at him to push inside, feel your walls cling to him as he'd pound you into the mattress, he restrained. His lips sloppily kissed yours, rubbing his twitching cock through your velvety folds, enjoying the sensation for just a moment longer. Your mewls and moans like chants for him to keep going.

He pulled his hips back slowly, groaning at the lost sensation before chuckling at your big doe eyes staring at him. Wondering if you did something wrong, but mostly just confusion sparkling in your eyes as to why he had stopped. Why he had robbed you of this sensation that had just made you crave more.

Although cute, your expression didn't last very long. The confusion shifted when his long fingers took the place where his cock had previously been rubbing against you. Running between your labia and toying with your clit, making sure his fingers were plenty wet before slowly easing one finger in, then a second one.

His lips latched onto your neck, soft kisses placed and praise whispered against your skin. His fingers moved slowly, rhythmically. Working your hole open, preparing for the stretch.

"Good girl," he whispered, "Does it feel good?" Jack had his ears sharpened, looking out for each sound. Each gasp, moan, or mewl registered in his mind. Only picking up the pace of his fingers when he felt you relax enough, curling his fingers upwards.

His cock ached, oozing precum onto the bed as he learned what made you squirm. The tall mans lips sucked marks into your neck, moaning against the red and purple spots in lust whenever your hips bucked into his touch so eagerly.

Patience wasn't Jack's fortune but he'd finger you until his cock would wilt off if it meant he'd get to hear your pleasure like this forever. With each moan, each whine your lover got more and more eager to please. Pleasuring you to the edge, his tongue licking a long stripe from the marks up to your ear. A husky moan escaping him as he felt how your walls clenched around his fingers.

"Like this?", he whispered, tone of voice so cocky normally it'd make your eyes roll in annoyance although it was anything but annoyance that made your eyes roll back right now. "Just like that," you whined out, pleasure too great to be embarrassed by the tone of your voice. Jack nodded, kissing the side of your face softly, peppering kisses while his fingers were working.

The pace of his fingers unchanging as your walls clenched and tightened around him like they had a mind of their own. His fingers only slowed when your release hit, working you through it but careful not to overstimulate and hurt you. Slowly, he pulled them back out, smiling happily at the cute gasp coming from you.

"Good?", he asked, eyes twinkling in delight as you nodded, still a bit dazed. He let you catch your breath, realizing the situation and getting your mind out of the gutter a bit. When you looked back up at him, he couldn't help himself but laugh from your face.

Jack was licking off your release from his fingers, tongue eagerly tasting and the tall man couldn't help but chuckle when you looked at him in shock.

"What? It's good." The unbothered tone in his voice made you chuckle too. Eyeing the tall man you called your lover up, it was clear he was content, the tip of his cock leaking onto the bedsheets but he looked just as satisfied. His eyes followed your gaze before looking back at your flustered face. He raised an eyebrow, wondering what was going on in your mind.

"Do you... want to... go further?" Now, this question surprised Jack. "Do you?", he asked, staring at your face. While yes, the tall man would die to sleep with you right now, he didn't want you to think you "owed" it to him. If he had to, he'd wait a thousand years for you. Well, maybe not a thousand, patience really wasn't his thing, but maybe a hundred. Or longer than right now.

However, that didn't matter as your head nodded yes, that you wanted to go further. Wanted him, in all ways, not wanting to wait any longer.

Jack quickly positioned himself above you again, kissing you softly. The pace was slower now, less urgent but more intimate. His body rubbing against yours, working you up slowly. He made sure his cock was wet with your slick.

Slowly, he pushed inside, feeling your arms around him clinging to him. Jack leaned his forehead against yours, making sure to watch your reaction and pause whenever it got too much for you. Gently he kissed your cheeks, your lips and the tip of your nose, soft praises uttered from his lips to soothe you.

He waited a few moments after sliding the last inches in, letting you get settled with the stretch of it. Only when you nodded to assure him, he started moving slowly. Easing himself out before pushing back in. Slowly, working it up, pulling out a bit further each time.

Soon enough both of you were moaning, lips smashed against each other and Jack had to clutch the bedsheets beside you to remind himself to keep it gentle, keep it slow, and give it to you like you deserve. The rhythm now was steady, gently rocking the bed a little back and forth. One hand beside you on the bed while the other toyed with your clit to ease you further into the new sensation.

A sly smile was on his lips, the tall man was reveling in the way of how the sounds coming from your mouth were more and more motivated with pleasure. Your lover bit his lip, doing a bit of algebra in his mind to postpone his orgasm, not wanting to bust too soon after you started properly enjoying the act of making love with him.

Only when your toes curled and he felt the familiar flutter of your walls around him, did he let his shoulders relax. Jack rocked his hips more sloppily into yours, trying not to be erratic as he worked you both over the edge. A moment after your release he pulled out, a few jerks of his hand before white streaks of arousal were painted on your stomach.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your heavy breathing through the silence. Your eyes stared at the sticky release on your stomach before looking up at Jack. Jack looked a bit sheepish. "I wasn't sure if you wanted me inside...", he admitted before chuckling. "I'm gonna get you a cloth."

Your lover pressed a kiss to your forehead before standing up and leaving through the door to his bathroom. Only a moment later he came back with a wet wash cloth. He gently wiped you down, peppering more kisses to your face.

"How was it?", he asked. "Hurt a little...", you admitted "I'm sorry, lovebug." "No... It felt really good after... Just, the first few moments..."

Jack chuckled, nodding. "I can imagine." His voice was soft as he pressed another soft kiss to your lips. "How was it for you?", you asked quietly. Jack looked a bit suprised before laughing.

"Do you want me to be honest, snugglebug?" Although this sentence set a bit of anxiety in your tummy, you nodded. "If I ever say something that is less than 'perfect', I want you to kill me. Because somebody has stolen my identity."

The sentence made you feel warm and fuzzy. You wrapped your arms around your lover when he laid back down next to you. "You're stupid", you giggled. "And you're cute", the tall man replied amused.

[almightyellie]

baby, i'm yours

in which you and bradley are in the same major and you're completely unaware of how much he adores you.

pairing is frat!bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

word count is 5.5k

author says stem major rooster supremacy <3

you should watch out for drinking, college au, language, party settings, mention of puking

title song is baby i'm yours // arctic monkey

bradley has never been the type to pine.

he had never been one for coveting from a distance, and why would he? bradley had grown up fighting for what he wanted. he had grown with an admirable, if not appalling, amount of confidence. bradley bradshaw had walked with a swagger that simply couldn’t be learned, and for the most part, it had gotten him what he wanted. sure, every once in a while he had to fight a little harder to get the girl, but he always got them in the end. until you.

you aren’t his type, that’s for sure, but something about you is impossible to shake. he’s spent at least three semesters staring at you from opposite ends of lecture halls, and maybe he likes you because you’re not his type. you seem conscientious, dedicated, and entirely uninterested.

it hurts the ego, sure, but bradley isn’t one to give up so easily. after all, you’ve only spoken once and he really hadn’t put his best foot forward. he should have known better, really, because you might be the only one in a nine am lecture who seems genuinely eager to understand enzyme kinetics. the idea of a frat party wouldn’t have interested you, and the offhanded invitation in the campus bookstore was met with a predictably tight smile and a, “yeah, maybe. thanks for the invite.” it’s the most polite blow-off he’s ever received.

that was august. now, spinning into the end of october, he’s been so embarrassed by his complete failure to accurately gauge your interests that he hasn’t even bothered to try again. he’s losing his nerve; more importantly, jake is convinced that bradley’s losing his masculinity. not that bradley has ever given a second thought to what jake thinks; he’s pretty sure that he could count all of jake’s iq points on his fingers, so he rarely gives weight to his opinion. 

and yet, he can’t let it go. he can’t stop watching you from across the room, wondering what you would do if he sat next to you. wondering if you ever watched him, too. wondering if you realized how, with one measly conversation under your belt, you’ve entirely captivated bradley bradshaw.

the virtue of having such a large student group in your major is that group projects aren’t a concern. it was one of the things you had so looked forward to when you were working through your generals, the idea of doing your own work on your own time, without the opinions of anyone else. and it’s a little isolating, somehow, that you can sit in two lectures a day, five days a week, with a hundred people each, and not say a word to anyone but callie. 

next to you, she pays little attention to the lecture, doodling in her notebook and scrolling through her phone. where you had been tirelessly devoted to your academics, callie had found a way to succeed without even trying. you take notes out of necessity, but it seemed like she picked up the information just as well by only half-listening to the lecture. as you scribble notes down in your notebook, your best friend nudges your elbow and tilts her phone toward you to show you a text. 

nat: halloween party @ pike on friday

nat: bob said the door’s open to everyone

you frown, spinning your pencil between your fingers and shaking your head. callie groans quietly, leaning in to whisper. “come on, it won’t be that bad.”

and no, it probably wouldn’t be. you had never been to the parties they were always pushing, but they couldn’t be terrible if nat and callie were there; further, anywhere nat was, so was bob, who you entirely adored. it wasn’t that you had no interest in the parties; you, more than any of your friends, needed to let loose. but even after three years, you couldn’t stand the idea of having to market yourself to your peers; why would you meet new people when you had already found your family?

“pike is full of dorks and nerds,” callie continues. “it probably won’t even be that busy.”

you shrug, and callie grins. the text that she sends into the group chat rings in on your laptop.

cal: we’re there!

your heart leaps into your throat when nat pushes you forward gently. both callie and natasha had assured you that the party likely wouldn’t have been too crowded. bob is just as surprised as you, whispering to nat, “have you ever seen it this packed?”

the four of you can barely move through the living room and you look over bob’s shoulder, ignoring the unhappy way your stomach churns. from the way callie had talked about it, you hadn’t thought it would be like this. heat hits you like a wall every time you walk into a new room and you’re already overwhelmed, between the endless stream of conversations and the pounding music pumping through the walls. 

bob spots reuben in the kitchen, and, already drunk, he greets all of you eagerly. it’s overfamiliar but not entirely unwelcome. you’ll take any little bit of comfort you can get right now, and though you’ve only met reuben a few times, the hug he pulls you into is enough to calm you, even if just barely. 

“where is everyone?” bob asks over the music, clapping his friend on the back, and reuben blinks hard. 

“i think seresin and mickey are in the basement.”

a cheer rises through the crowd as someone pushes through the doorway into the kitchen and reuben’s attention is entirely lost. he’s vaguely familiar, somehow, with the kind of honey brunet hair that makes you wonder if it’s entirely natural and a smile that’s contagious. he drops two cases of beer, stacked on top of one another, onto the already crowded island, and callie leans into you and nat. 

“who is that?”

bob laughs and nat raises a brow. you’re glad that she asked because you know him, you think. a little more selfishly, something about him naturally draws you in; he has the same undeniable charisma that you think all frat boys must possess to a certain extent. it rarely works on you, and maybe it wouldn’t work if he turned it on you, but watching him greet everyone around him, passing out beers with compliments and laughter makes you a little giddy the same way all blooming attractions do, with a turn of the stomach at the end of the realization.

“that’s brad,” bob answers. you snort, because of course, his name was brad. “bradshaw!” 

brad spins his head in your direction with a wide grin, a smile that only grows when he catches sight of bob, brows raising at the sight of him surrounded by the three of you. “hey, bobby!”

bob’s cheeks flush and for a moment, you watch him for any sign of discomfort, but he only laughs and pushes all of you toward the island. 

“y’all want a drink?” brad asks, eyes lingering on yours, and without a second thought, you nod along with your friends. 

you listen as well as you can to the conversation between the two men as brad hands bob a beer and asks callie whether she’d prefer a beer or a seltzer. she preens, asking for a beer, and he hands her one back with a polite smile. you watch him ask nat the same question, wracking your brain to figure out where you had seen him. maybe you had served him at work. it wasn’t out of the question that you might have been in a gen ed class together in your first year, but you don’t think it’s either of those. when he trains his eyes on you, you're more confused than ever because you’re sure you would have remembered someone like this.

“and for you?” he asks, voice soft despite the oppressive noise around you.

“seltzer, please,” you respond quickly. he grins at you and you hate the nervous flip of your stomach, thrilled and terrified to have his attention, to be on the receiving end of that smile. 

news of the fresh cases has spread around the house and guests are crushing into the kitchen to get their hands on a new drink before they’re gone. at first, you hadn’t minded the crowd as much as you thought you would, but now you’re overwhelmed, so you pat callie’s hand and lean in close. “i think m’gonna step outside, okay?”

she pulls back, brow creased in worry, and says, “are you okay? do you want me to come?”

and you know she will, which you appreciate, but you also know that she just caught sight of the blond that has sauntered into the kitchen—exactly her type—and you don’t want her to miss her shot. “i’m okay! i’ll be right back.”

as you force your way through the crowd, cold can in hand, you wonder why you showed up in the first place. it’s not your scene, not even a little, and you had spent the last three years avoiding places exactly like this. foolishly, you hope that maybe the crowd will thin out the later it gets, but you know that’s not really how these kinds of things work. 

the door from the kitchen to the backyard opens inward, which is a struggle when the couple behind the door only glares at you for attempting to open it. frustrated, you open your mouth to ask them to move, but a large hand from behind you reaches for the doorknob, and the man’s face softens at the sight of whoever’s behind you. 

you glance over your shoulder and there’s brad, his chest brushing against your shoulder. he smiles genially at the couple, nodding at them. “hey, man, how are you?”

you don’t listen to the response because brad twists the doorknob for you, opening the door just enough for you to slip out. you aren’t sure he does it for you, exactly, but you’re grateful either way. the october night, especially compared to the sweaty, booming house, is a welcome and refreshing change, one that nearly forces you to take a deep breath. it’s considerably less crowded outside, and you lean against the vibrating siding of the house, glancing sideways when brad slips out of the door and closes it behind him.

for a moment, he looks across the backyard like he’s looking for something, but you interrupt him when you breathe out sharply, tugging your jacket closer. finally, he turns to look at you, and his face melts into the easiest smile you’ve ever seen. you’re not conscious of the way you smile back, pleased to see him pleased, and he leans against the wall beside you.

“hi.”

you look at him, half appalled and half intrigued, because brad is handsome. even if he wasn’t, he has the kind of inherent charm that makes up for physical deficiency, and you would think that someone so handsome might have a better way to flirt than saying ‘hi.’

it occurs to you suddenly that he’s flirting. he’s flirting with you. you feel a sudden warmth creeping from the pit of your stomach, rising to your skin and making you feel a little flushed. “hi.”

he holds out a hand in a formal handshake and you can’t help yourself. you chuckle a little, allowing him to take your hand. “i’m brad.”

you purse your lips and shake his hand. “...brad.”

he tilts his head knowingly, eyes mirthful. “yes?”

with a grin at him, you pull your hand back, rocking on your heels. “that’s just such a frat boy name.”

and he laughs, so loud and warm that suddenly it feels like august, pressing his hand to his abdomen. you watch him appreciatively, endeared to the way his cheeks flush, the way his shoulders shake. his eyes are still crinkled with delight when his laughter slows and he says, “then you can call me bradley.”

your grin shines stronger. “i like bradley.” you offer your name, and he sticks a hand into his pocket. he’s cute, undeniably, and every once in a while, someone will pass by and clap him on the shoulder, greeting him with a ‘hey, man!’ or an excited call of his name. for some reason, seeing how liked he is makes you like him even more. he greets everyone back—remembers their names and everything—and the smile on his face is so genuine that it takes you aback.

bradley is easier to talk to than you had expected, not that you had expected much. he briefly talks about his mother when you ask, answers a couple of questions about what he does outside of academics, but he seems more invested in asking you any questions than offering information. you’re right in the middle of a tangent about one of your classes when you ask, “what’s your major, again?”

he thumbs the tab of his can. “biochem,” he nods, and you grin.

“me, too!” you respond eagerly, and he laughs, seeming a little bashful.

“yeah, i know,” he responds easily. “we’re in a lot of classes together, i think.” he doesn’t think, he knows, but the last thing bradley wants to do now that you’re warming up to him is come off as some weirdo who spends all his time watching you instead of his lectures. your face brightens with recognition, and he smiles softly. “i also tried—and failed—to flirt with you in the bookstore at the beginning of the semester, but…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. that was supposed to be the silent part, but part of him hopes that you might remember him, no matter how poorly he had done then. he thinks he’s doing pretty well now.

you blanch, covering your mouth with your hand, and bradley could kick himself. “oh, my god. bradley, i’m so sorry! i can’t believe i forgot about that,” you lament, and he laughs with a tinge of self-deprecation.

“i really think it’s better that you did,” he soothes, and then you giggle and all is restored. he’s back in good standing, his washout from the bookstore entirely balanced. he’s all too aware of the tiny step you take in his direction, one that he’s not sure you’ve even noticed yourself. it comforts him, lets him know that right now, you’re closer to the same page than you’ve ever been, and that alone makes his heart begin to pound.

“well, i still feel bad,” you admit, and he shrugs. 

“rejection is healthy for the ego,” he excuses.

it seems like it’s something he actually believes, which makes your chest sticky with unbridled affection. “you don’t seem like the kind of guy who experiences a lot of rejection.”

he flushes and you know you’re right, but it doesn’t annoy you. he’s nothing you would have assumed him to be; he isn’t arrogant or lewd, doesn’t push you to drink and hasn’t asked you to his room. the surprise is almost sweeter than the realization that bradley is the kind of guy you could like, silly name aside.

bradley can’t believe his luck; he hadn’t gotten you here, but someone had, and he’s thrilled. he’s grateful. he reaches for you, fingers hesitating, but he folds down the collar of your jean jacket, and he can’t contain himself when you smile at him. you’re vulnerable, open with him, and bradley can read the signs. he’s giddy, because you’re finally looking at him, laughing with him, and bradley thinks that this—you are better than any way he had ever imagined you. 

“bradley bradshaw,” you murmur, rolling your eyes playfully. “you aren’t entirely insufferable.”

he guffaws, fingers tightening around his empty beer can. he’s been out of his drink for nearly half an hour, but he can’t pull himself from you. “wow, i’m honored.”

you play it up, turning away from him to look out across the backyard. the two of you are so close that your shoulder brushes his chest, and warmth races through his body at the contact. a large hand settles in the dip of the small of your back, and you pretend that it doesn’t make you want to shiver. “you should be. i’m very hard to please.”

and bradley’s stomach flips, fingers tightening around his empty can once again. “i’m sure i could figure it out.”

a surprised laugh forces its way out of you and he snorts. “dude.”

he grins, tapping his empty can against yours. this is going well, better than he thought it would. “you want another drink?”

you look at him, a pleased smile pushing at your cheeks. “yes, please.”

he’ll give you a moment alone, in part because he really does need another drink, but mostly because if there ever were a time to work up the courage to ask you out, it would be right now. he grabs your can, flashing you a sweet smile before he slips inside. 

the second his back is turned, you can’t tamp down your smile, your ears burning. at this point, you don’t even care if he’s stringing you along. you like him. he makes you laugh, and he had been willing to admit that he had his foot in his mouth when he had approached you at the beginning of the semester. then, you had assumed the same of him that you had when you’d met again: that he was cocky, that he was a stereotypical frat boy. but now, he’s laughing at himself the same way you are, humbled and sweet.

the kitchen door opens, and you turn to greet him, but it’s nat. you smile warmly, leaning against the wall. “hey.”

“hey,” she breathes. “you’ve been out here the whole time?”

you shrug, sticking your hands in the pockets of your jacket. “yeah. you guys having fun?”

nat rolls her eyes with a huff. “yeah, about that. we gotta get callie home.”

worry washes over you, forcing out the lovesick warmth that had overtaken you and leaving you with a bitter chill. “what happened?”

she shakes her head, the toe of her boot rubbing out a cigarette butt someone has thrown on the back porch. “she got into a pissing contest with that guy she was flirting with,” nat grunts. “you know how she is. anyway, she’s in the backseat.”

and you shouldn’t be surprised, because yeah, you know callie. she can’t let a challenge go, and you’re amazed it hasn’t given her alcohol poisoning yet. taking care of her while drunk is like second nature after so many years of friendship, and you had figured that the night would end like this, anyway. but you hadn’t anticipated bradley. you want to take care of your best friend, but you don’t want to leave behind the lovely flush that bradley has given you.

nat notices your pause and frowns. “you okay?” you step to the side and peek into the window. bradley stands, pretty and flushed in the kitchen, his beer in one hand and a different flavor of your seltzer in another. god, you don’t want to leave him behind. you want to stay, soaking up his warmth, his attention, and you want to kiss him, and maybe you want to spend the night with him. you watch him laugh in the kitchen, goading one of the other party guests, his charisma radiating even through the window. everyone around him laughs, smiles up at him, falls into his encouragement to keep drinking, keep having fun, and you recognize the look on their faces. it’s the look that you’ve been wearing for the last hour talking to him.

you sigh and turn back to nat. “yeah, m’good. let’s get her home.”

your friend hesitates, but you smile and nod. bradley charms everyone around him; you’re sure that you’re no different. he has everyone falling at his feet. he makes people feel special; it’s the kind of guy he is, and you like that about him, but that’s all it is. 

you let nat drag you through the side yard and around the front to bob’s car, and you try not to let yourself think about bradley on the ride home.

bradley, still laughing at javy’s insistence on body shots, slips out the backdoor, can in each hand. the crowd pushes the door closed behind him, and his belly is still flipping when he turns to where you should be. where you were. he frowns, confused, and he hates the way his stomach swoops when he looks across the yard and can’t see you. tucking his beer in the crook of his elbow, he shoves his way back into the kitchen.

“reub!” he calls over the noise, and his friend beams at him. “where’s bob?”

reuben, drunk and thrilled, responds, “man, he just left!”

a sinking realization makes bradley wilt, his shoulders dropping, and bradley knows that you’re gone, too.

callie glares unhappily at the glass bob has set before her. “i’m literally going to puke.”

he gives her a look, unimpressed with her dramatics. “it goes down smoother than you’d think.”

“does it come up smooth, too?”

you don’t blame her, really. you had never tasted bob’s hangover cure, but it looks exactly like what you cleaned out of his backseat last night. no, you wouldn’t want any part of it, either, but he swore by it. nat drops a straw in the thick mixture, and callie groans but begins drinking it obediently.

“so,” nat starts, sitting across from you at the table. “how was your night?”

you feel your cheeks warm but you shrug casually, resting your chin on your water bottle. “fine. how was yours?”

“you disappeared,” she responds, ignoring your question, and you roll your eyes goodnaturedly.

“i did not ‘disappear.’ i was exactly where i said i was all night.”

nat narrows her eyes at you, and when you look at bob, you see his lips quirked in the tiniest smile. “brad followed you out,” he notes, and you stare back at him, trying to keep your face blank.

you don’t want to feel giddy about bradley, not when you know he was just being nice. the last thing you want to do is give bob any indication that bradley has gotten under your skin; you know bob. you love bob, but he’s observant, and though he would never tell a secret on purpose, you know better than anyone that sometimes the truth just slips out of him. “he did.”

callie perks up a little, straw still in her mouth when she asks, “you and brad?”

“no,” you insist. “we just talked for a few minutes.”

nat smirks, leaning onto her elbows. “did you like him?”

“he was nice.”

“that’s not what i asked,” she pushes, and you huff.

you want to hold it close to your chest. it’s embarrassing to admit that you had allowed bradley to make you feel so special, that he had wooed you without even trying. but the idea of lying to your best friends makes you sweat a little. natasha would find out anyway, and then you’d be in for it. “i mean…yeah, i guess.”

“that’s a yes,” bob celebrates, and you frown. 

your best friends share a pleased look and you harrumph. “what does it matter, anyway? he’s just some…random frat guy. probably would end up being an asshole, anyway.”

bob shakes his head, filling one of your mugs with coffee for himself. “nah, brad’s cool. he’s nice.”

you level a glare at bob. “regardless. the last thing i need right now is to develop feelings for some guy that everyone else is already in love with.” and bob doesn’t argue, doesn’t deny the fact that bradley has everyone falling at his feet. you shrug, taking a sip of your water. “he’s cool, i guess. but i don’t have time for that.”

callie wrinkles her nose in your direction, clearly a little annoyed. “but you like him.”

you purse your lips. “so?”

she sighs, holding her cup of sludge with both hands as she leans back into her seat. “tell him.” it’s such a callie thing to say. she had never second-guessed herself. she had never needed to. but you weren’t callie. you weren’t perfect, reliable callie. such confidence had never come to you the way it has to her. if you were callie, the kind of person that people were drawn to—the same way they were drawn to bradley—you might tell him. but you weren’t. you were just you.

you lean back into your chair, avoiding your friends’ eyes, and for a minute, you pretend that you are like callie, and it’s a comforting thought.

similarly, bradley and mickey look at each other across the kitchen island. “so…you didn’t kiss her.”

“no,” bradley says, tired.

“and you didn’t ask her out?”

“no.”

mickey looks at him, head tilted curiously. “but why?”

“because she left, you idiot,” javy rolls his eyes. “you aren’t even listening.”

“i am!” he insists, glaring at javy. “i just don’t understand. brad, you’re the clincher.” 

bradley has been running over the events of the night before until he can’t hold it in anymore. he had hoped his roommates would be helpful, but javy is disinterested, mickey is entirely unhelpful, and jake had shuffled away five minutes into the conversation to fall asleep on the couch. “i don’t know, man, i thought it was going great. she seemed like she was interested, you know? 

mickey shrugs. “whatever, dude. you said you have some classes together? just catch her on campus and ask her out.”

“mickey, did it ever occur to you that she left because she didn’t like me?” bradley stresses, and his roommate rolls his eyes. 

“bradley, have you ever considered that you only like this girl because she's the first one who doesn’t like you?”

bradley sits with this for a moment. he had an ego, that was for sure, and he had chased a lot of girls who didn’t want him just to change their minds. the thrill was always in the chase. at least, it had been, because the longer bradley thinks about it, the more he thinks that he had found just as much thrill watching you across lecture halls as he ever had chasing other girls. he had been just as eager to get you a drink and make you laugh as he had to take other girls to bed. everything is heightened with you. no, the thrill wasn’t in chasing you. this had gone on so much longer than that. long before he ever found out that you had no interest in him.

“no,” bradley decides. “no, man, it’s not like that. i really like her.”

mickey shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “okay, then tell her. what’s the worst that can happen?”

you avoid looking at bradley throughout class. right as it had begun, you had made the mistake of searching for him, and the second that you laid eyes on him, it felt like a burn. over the weekend, you had come to terms with the fact that yeah, you did like bradley. that didn’t mean you had to like it. you would put your head down, get through the semester, and pray that you didn’t have any classes together next semester. and that’s fine. it’s fine. 

your notes, like your thoughts, are scrambled. they barely make sense to you, and when callie glances in your direction, her face twists at the sight of your notebook. “dude, what the fuck?”

“stop,” you insist, trying to hide the way your shoulders shake in a laugh. “it’s functional.”

“bro, it’s incomprehensible.”

“fuck off,” you laugh, elbowing her. 

she giggles, pressing a hand to her chest. you’re grateful when your professor releases class early, because callie’s jeering is getting a little too close to heckling for your taste. she can’t control her volume, this you know, and usually it’s fine, but more than usual, you’re trying to fly under the radar today.

you both shrug on your coats, pack your bags, and slip from the lecture hall. you think you’re in the clear, that you’ve successfully avoided bradley, who exited on the opposite side of the lecture hall, not that you were looking. but you hear your name from only a few feet behind just as you and callie reach the external doors. it’s far enough away, crowded enough in the rush of your classmates that you might be able to pretend you didn’t hear it, but he calls you again and you know that the guilt will haunt you if you don’t at least say hi.

your best friend grins when you turn and offer bradley a tight smile. “hey, bradley.”

“hey,” he breathes, and you hate him because he’s so much cuter in daylight than he ever was under the porch light of the frat house. it makes you sick. “i’m glad i caught up to you. can we talk?”

your inner monologue screeches to a halt and starts shrieking, but you nod and turn to callie. “i’ll catch up?”

she smirks at the two of you. “i won’t hold my breath.”

“callie,” you hiss, but bradley laughs and you feel—despite your embarrassment—that her comment is hopeful, not teasing. 

she waves goodbye and heads on her way. you and bradley, standing against the late autumn chill, stand in silence for only a beat before he says, “i lost you at the party.”

your lips twist in a way that’s unbearably endearing to him and you hook your thumb over your shoulder. “callie got sick, we had to take her home.”

bradley grins, looking after her. “oh, that callie.” you look at him, half-suspicious, but you have an almost knowing smile growing on your face. “my roommate hasn’t stopped talking about her since friday.”

“jake?” you hazard a guess, and bradley nods. a contemplative sigh fills the space between you before you say, “yeah, trust me. we’ve heard a lot about him, too.”

you expect some banter, at least, about his roommate. from what callie has told you, you’re certain that bradley has some stories to share about him, or at least a funny quip, but he’s got a one track mind. “um…right. well, i would have liked to…say bye.”

for a long moment, the two of you look at one another in silence. you get the sense that bradley doesn’t spend a great deal of time being vulnerable like this, even if he’s just giving you the barest hint of what happens underneath, and you have to wonder: why is he sharing this with you? what is he doing? 

“no, yeah. you just looked like you were having fun inside, i didn’t think you’d really notice.” and god, you hate how pathetic that sounds, and you hate the way his shoulders deflate, and you hate the way you’re butchering this right now. “i just didn’t want to bother you, was all.” 

“you wouldn’t have bothered me,” he responds immediately. 

he’s so cute that looking at him hurts, and you feel that pressure build up in your chest, packed so tightly that you have to say something. “bradley—”

“i’m sorry,” he says, voice sweet and a little scratchy. he holds eye contact so firmly that it almost makes you shiver, both of you ignoring the other students around you. “i’m sorry if i was too pushy, or if i made you uncomfortable.”

“you didn’t,” you assure. “you weren’t. not at all.” he nods once.

bradley feels like the earth could swallow him right now and it could only help the situation. he’s embarrassed, but he tries not to show it. after mickey’s rare moment of mental clarity, bradley knows that now is the moment. he’d missed his chance before. fumbled his opportunity already. he didn’t want to do that again. “listen…i’ve been watching you across classrooms for like, four semesters. i think you’re really pretty,” he admits, voice steady despite the increasing flush on his cheeks. “and you’re funny and interesting and smart and i want to get to know you, because i really like you.” you blanch, mouth parted in the cutest little o he’s ever seen. “if you aren’t interested, i get it. we can just be friends.”

you pause, taking a moment to process his words when he cuts in again.

“or if you don’t want to be friends, you can totally tell me to fuck off and i will literally never bother you again,” he rambles, nodding decisively.

and it happens at the worst time, really. this is not the time to start giggling, but you can’t help yourself. you’re a little giddy and a little entertained, but mostly you’re caught up in him. caught up in the way this boy you haven’t stopped thinking about for the last three days has, apparently, spent the last two years admiring you. this sweet boy, who makes you laugh and makes you think, who makes you feel special and interesting and wanted. 

“bradley, you don’t get rejected a lot, do you?”

bradley’s lips pucker, trying to hide his nerves from you. whatever you had to say, he wanted to hear it. no matter what. “no, i don't.”

you take a step toward him, grateful for the heat that rolls off his body, and you smile at him softly. “well, best not to break your record, then.”

bradley bradshaw isn’t the type to pine. until he is. 

and it’s worth every second.

[faebaex]

Leona + Gn!reader/Or/Male!reader (For the Event) Reader watching Leona at Spelldrive practice then when he finishes he sits with them for a bit and then gives them something from his bag ?

500 Follower Valentine Event - Leona Kingscholar

author note: shy leona shy leona shy leona ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ the first of the event requests, i hope you enjoy! i'm thinking of maybe doing a larger valentine post for any of the characters who don't get a specific request, if i have the time!

characters: Leona Kingscholar x GN!Reader

You went to every one of Leona's practices.

Rain, shine, snow - nothing stopped you from journeying to the Savannaclaw spelldrive stadium from your dorm if you knew that Leona was going to be there. Your dedication was impressive to the rest of the spelldrive club. Like his personal cheerleader, you'd watch him in earnest, always ready with a towel and a water bottle for him once practice was over. Usually, he didn't stick around too long after practice, eager to take a shower and fall back into his nap schedule. Still, that desire didn't stop him from sauntering over to you, cocky smirk on his face as he basked in the compliments you gave him about his performance that day.

But today seemed to be different.

As you tossed a towel at him as he approached you after practice, which he caught deftly with one hand as he took the water bottle you held out to him, Leona decided to sit beside you. You beamed at him, shifting on the bench to give him some room, "you did amazing as usual today, Leona senpai!" Leona only grunted in acknowledgment, taking a long swig from his water bottle.

Both of you sat in peaceful silence, watching the rest of the spelldrive club pack away equipment and gather their things. Although you didn't mind the silence, you noticed that something was a little off about Leona today. First, his usual cocky smile wasn't on his face and he wasn't teasing you about what his top three best moments of practice were today. Also, his tail swished behind him restlessly, occasionally thumping against the leg of the bench. Finally, he seemed to be avoiding making eye contact with you, as if watching his team members tidy up the field was much more interesting.

You didn't pay it much mind, simply concluding that Leona was perhaps in a grumpy mood today. Eventually, most of the spelldrive club had left the stadium, and Ruggie made his way over to you both, giving you his signature smile and a little wave as he made his way over to Leona's duffel bag. However, before he could even stoop to pick it up, Leona suddenly reached for the handle and snatched it from Ruggie's grip, pulling it up onto the bench beside him with a frown. Ruggie's signature laugh hissed from his lips, a hand coming up to cover it when Leona shot him a pissed glare.

You raised an eyebrow at the entire display, making sure to say goodbye to Ruggie before turning towards Leona, "what was that about? You want me to carry your bag back today?" You teased good naturedly, your smile growing as Leona's ears flickered and he reached up to rub at the back of his neck, "shut it, herbivore." Despite his retort, his words held no venom, and he even looked slightly bashful, an expression that felt oddly placed on his usually smug face.

With a sigh, Leona shifted towards his bag, the sound of the zip being pulled meeting your ears as he began to search through the contents. When he turned back to you, he was holding a small, black square box in his hand. If you'd have looked closely, you'd have seen the slight flush on his cheeks, but he shoved the box at you before you got a chance to look up at his face. "Here, herbivore."

You blinked, surprised at the box being shoved into your hands. You looked between the box and Leona, who was again rubbing at the back of his neck again in a way you'd hazard to describe as shy, but he gave a small 'tch' at your hesitance and gestured towards the box with his free hand, "just open it already, herbivore. I haven't got all day."

You pulled open the lid of the box, and felt your breath hitch in your throat. Laying on a simple bed of velvet was a beautiful beaded bracelet. Reminiscent of the bracelets that Leona wears on his own wrists, the beads were vibrant in colour and set on a simple, but stylish black rope. But what set this bracelet apart from the ones that Leona wore was a small, golden charm affixed between the beads. Upon closer inspection, you realised it was the face of a lion, mouth opened in roar and fangs bared. You felt heat flush to your cheeks as you carefully lifted the bracelet from the box, worried that if you touched it wrong it may shatter in your very hands.

"Wow Leona... This is beautiful..." You managed to stutter out, watching in awe as the beads glittered in the setting sun. Suddenly, a large hand cupped your wrist before another pulled the bracelet gently off of your fingers. "Let me..." Leona started, before stopping and pursing his lips together. Carefully, he slid the bracelet up your hand and onto your wrist, and you felt keenly aware of the warmth from his hands as he adjusted the bracelet so the lion charm sat comfortably on your wrist. Fingers lingering a little too long, Leona reluctantly pulled them back, and you admired the beaded bracelet on your wrist, lion charm shining in the sun.

Seemingly encouraged by your stunned silence and flushed cheeks, Leona managed to summon back some of the smugness he usually exuded, a fanged smile tugging up his lips as he crossed his arms and closed his eyes, seemingly basking in the last sunrays of the day, "don't say I don't give you anything, herbivore."

Despite his attempt at nonchalance, you could tell that he was keeping tabs on your every move by the twitching of his ears and you smiled, charmed by the frustrating lion before you. As quickly as you could, you leaned forward and placed a kiss on the lion beastman's cheek, "thank you, Leona."

Colour burst forth on the beastman's cheeks and you started to laugh, gearing up to tease him just a little but suddenly he was up and off the bench, lifting his bag by the handle, "c'mon herbivore, it's nap time." Leona instructed, before tossing the bag in his hand at you, it landing square in your lap with a thump. With his usual insufferable smirk, he looked over his shoulder at you as he began walking back towards his dorm.

"What? You said you wanted to carry it."

[miniteezez]

09:01

C.San x few reader

Part 3

Warnings: reader cries, little angst I guess but meh. Fluff. Karen.

Part 1 Part 2.

A/n: this will be it for now but I’ll update if I get any ideas :)

Sun shone in through the windows, the rays somehow targeting your eyes. Waking up from your slumber, you found yourself unable to move. Looking back, you found San wrapped around you. His face was pressed to your shoulder, hair splayed out messily on the pillow. Smiling, you carefully manoeuvred so you were laying flat on your back. Making sure he was still asleep, you carefully pulled San closer, resting his head comfortably on your chest. His arm subconscious curved around your waist, his hand fisting your shirt. You quickly took a picture, finding it to be really cute. Then, you sent your parents a message, just to let them know you were okay. A small groan made you look down as San began to stir. His eyes opened slowly, immediately looking up at you and smiling. 

"Morning. Did you sleep well?" Even though his words were slurred, you giggled and fluffed up his hair. 

"Very well. You're warm." San chuckled deeply, chest rumbling against your side. Wetting his lips, he blinked the sleep away half heartedly. In that moment, you felt so content. You felt safe, at peace, like everything was finally in the right place. Even in his half asleep state, San was beautiful. It was almost tragic too see. Almost painful to realise just how much you liked him. In the span of a week, you'd grown attached to the red-head and were so afraid of having to let go. What if your date went badly? Or he realised you were dull? What if he finally saw how ugly you felt? 

"(Y/n)? What's wrong?" San propped himself up, leaning over you. You blushed at the proximity, avoiding his gaze. 

"I'm just thinking." His eyes wondered over your features. From the crease of your brown to your downturned lips. He knew something was wrong.

"You can be honest with me. I won't laugh. I'll listen." San spoke sincerely, hoping his words would properly reach you. Sighing, you gulped a little and began voicing your thoughts.

"I'm just waiting for you to realise that I'm not good enough to be here with you." Now shocked, his eyes widened slightly.

"What are you talking about?" 

"Realistically, there's no reason for you to be interested in me. I'm not conventionally attractive. I'm boring. I'm fussy. I'm bossy. I'm just not good enough." Pouring your heart out to him, you started to feel really guilty for your small rant. 

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. That's only going to make it worse." Your eyes brimmed with tears. Quickly, San sat up and pulled you with him. Bringing you into his chest, he pressed his lips to your temple. 

"Dont apologise. I'm glad you could be honest with me." His fingers ran through your hair, as if to simply brush those thoughts away. 

"You know none of that is true right?" 

"It is." 

"Why because your aunt said so?" Sans voice was sharp, almost making you flinch. Unable to speak, you nod against his chest and bit down on your lip. 

"I honestly think she's just jealous. You're young, you're pretty, you've got a good life." Before you could disagree, San tilted your chin up to look at him.

"Who wants to be 'conventionally attractive'. That sounds boring. You're beautiful in my eyes." Your face went warm, the tips of your ears going red. 

"You have a glowing personality. You literally drew me in. I saw you sitting alone at the airport, and I knew I wanted to get to know you. Maybe you want your own way sometimes? We all do. It just shows you're stronger than most." As San was talking, you stared up at him like an idiot. A stray tear rolled down your cheek, feeling touched by his words. He brushed it away softly, leaving his hand on your cheek tentivley. 

"Maybe you don't understand? I really like you. As in I want to be your boyfriend. Eventually." San laughed as he said the last word, hoping he wasn't coming off as too eager. Finally, you smiled too, gazing at him lovingly. Maybe, for once, you could believe the nice things being said about yourself. Maybe you could even act brave. 

"I want to kiss you." San was taken aback by your honesty, letting out a shy chuckle. 

"I definitely don't mind that." That was the green light you needed, to lean forward to connect your lips together. Instantly, you melted into the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck. San smiled against your lips, using his free hand to hold your waist and bring you flush against him. When you pulled away to breathe, you stared at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say. Until San broke the ice.

"Do you want me to fight your aunt? I'm a black belt. I can take her out?" You both broke out into laughter, your head falling against his shoulder. Yes, you could allow yourself this one good thing.

After a little while, San brought you to the kitchen, where mingi and wooyoung were eating. Upon seeing you, the youngest whistled. San shoved him lightly, helping you onto a stool.

"Breakfast, (y/n)?" Mingi asked, smiling at you kindly. You shook your head, watching as San began to chop some fruit.

"I dont really eat breakfast." Everyone looked at you confused, wooyoung putting down his toast. 

"What? Why not?" 

"It makes me bloat. Then I look awful. So I wait until I'm done for the day to eat." Shaking his head, San continued to cut up his fruit before getting out a pot of yoghurt. 

"You look beautiful no matter what. So you're eating, OK?" Blushing, you stared down and the counter, bobbing your head. The boys laughed quietly as San sat beside you with a bowl. Taking the spoon, he scooped up some food before holding it to your lips. You were silent, letting him feed you until you were full. He even tucked your hair away. 

You left shortly after to go and change, having arranged to meet San at the beach. Upon arriving at your villa, your dad greeted you with a warm hug. 

"I dont know how you can be so nice to her. She's clearly been messing around with that lad." Your aunt spat, stirring up her milky tea. Deciding to ignore her, you went to get ready quickly. From your room, you heard arguing and sighed. You hated that she caused so much trouble. Once ready, you headed back to them. Your mother smiled, pulling you near her.

"He's a good man, (y/n). Ignore my sister and just enjoy yourself ok?" As she embraced you, you felt so grateful for how supportive she was.

You stared out at the sea, watching the tide going out before swishing back in. It was serene, the wind light, ocean blue and sky clear. Hot but not so hot it would bother you. Just right. Arms suddenly appeared around your waist, lifting you off the sand then spinning around. Letting out a scream, you heard San laugh at your shock. He placed you down, turning yourself to face him.

"Hey." He grinned, hands still on your middle. 

"You're late."

"Only by five minutes!" He protested, poking your cheek jokingly. How could you ever even pretend to be mad at him? Smiling, you took hold of his hands and started walking backwards.

"Can we swim? Before we get ice cream?" 

“We can do anything you want.” He reassured, already starting to unbutton his shirt. Excitedly, you took your things off and put them in your bag. Whilst you were distracted, san threw you over his shoulder with ease and ran into the sea. You squeaked, laughing as he dropped the both of you into the water. He wasted no time in pouring water over your head, effectively ruining any effort you put into your hair.

“San.” You practically whined, splashing him in a weak attempt at payback. Smirking, he sat himself in the shallow and watched you for a moment. Though, it didn’t take long for you to settle beside him. Naturally, San put his arm behind you, allowing you to lean against him.

“What’s your favourite ice cream flavour then?” He asked, reaching over and taking your hand in his own.

“Hm, either strawberry or chocolate. I can’t pick.”

“Why not get both. I’ll do the same.” You smiled up at San, playing with his fingers.

“I was thinking, when we go back home. It’ll be autumn. We could go on cute little coffee dates?” His ears were red, eyes full of anxiety. Simpering, you kissed his cheek.

“I’d love that.” Relief washed over the red head before he leant down to capture your lips with his own. Kissing back, you turned towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands framed your waist, pulling you into his lap securely. Once you had pulled away, San smiled at you lovingly.

Walking alone the cobbled streets, you came across a small cafe selling ice cream. San found a table whilst you ordered your cones. Two chocolate and strawberry just as you had discussed. The man behind the counter gave you a wink and a price of paper once you paid. Quickly, you sat beside San who was glaring at the cashier deeply.

“Did he give you his number?” He asked, holding his hand out expectantly. You shrugged and handed him the paper, watching as he ripped it in half after observing the scribble.

“Stupid. I should kick his ass.” You couldn’t help but giggle at sans pouty face, giving him his ice cream.

“Relax San. I wouldn’t care for his number at all. I’m on a date with you remember.” He took a bite of his ice cream still frowning.

“But he’s a good looking guy.”

“You’re far better believe Me. You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” San perked up, sitting straight and turning to you. Even with chocolate in the corner of his lips, you decided his looks just couldn’t be beat.

“I am?” He asked, relaxing as you cupped his cheek and left a soft kiss on his lips.

“You definitely are.”

“So, did your aunt have anything to say?” Now having finished your ice cream, you were headed back to your villa.

“She thinks we slept together. I think she said something else but I ignored her.”

“Good.” San swung your hands as you walked, fingers laced together perfectly. You smiled to yourself, pulling him inside the home you were renting. Hearing you enter, your mother turned with a warming gaze.

“Ah are you joining us tonight San?” She asked, wiping her hands off from cooking. He nod, trying to act polite.

“If that’s ok?” Chuckling, she walked over and helped him out of his jacket kindly.

“Of course, I made enough to feed a thousand. I’ll text you when it’s ready.” Your mother told you at the end, letting you both go and freshen up.

When you stepped onto the patio, your family was already sat around the table. Thankfully, there was two seats by your father free. San bowed to everyone, pulling your chair out and tucking you in before sitting himself down. As your mother served the food, your aunt was staring across at the man next to you. He tried to ignore her burning gaze, making sure you had a drink in front of you. It was only after everyone had started eating that your aunt spoke up.

“So, have you two kissed yet?” San physically froze, choking his food down with difficulty. Quickly, you pat his back and tried to get him some water. The poor boy turned bright red, matching his hair completely. Your father sighed, rubbing his face.

“That’s not our business.”

“Well I’m only asking.” She whined, keeping her eyes on San, who was slowly recovering.

“Leave them alone and eat your food.” He muttered, checking to make sure San was ok. You held his hand, guilt invading your senses. He must have seen this, giving you a reassuring smile. That didn’t ease your feelings sadly and you frowned at your plate.

“You wanna go inside?” Nodding at San, you stopped him from getting up.

“You finish eating.” He just watched as you went inside before turning his focus on your aunt with determination.

Around ten minutes later, San slipped into your room and found you in bed. He smiled, placing two steaming mugs down on the side table.

“I made you tea.” You hummed gratefully, sitting up and pulling the covers back for him. He climbed in, pulling you into his chest.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. You’re not responsible for her behaviour.” San said trying to reassure you. You frowned up at him, leading him to kiss your pout playfully. Thankfully, that did cause you to smile. He carefully handed you the tea, making sure not to scold you. With one arm around you, his other hand held his mug and you spoke about nonsense for a while. YouTube played in the background but neither of you payed any attention. Even after the drinks were consumed, you lay in his arms and talked about life back home and how you’d make it work. You felt so content, ear pressed to his heartbeat and arms hugging his slim waist. Your bodied just slotted together perfectly. For once, you felt as though you finally had something worthwhile. Neither of you noticed that you fell asleep in each others arms. You were both at peace.

“(Y/n). Are you t- oh…” your mother burst in, stopping and going quiet as she saw you both. A smile spread on get lips, happy to see you. She knew, in those few seconds, that you’d be just fine from now on.

[cozymoko]

Long time DL fan here! It's always a pleasure to read your headcanons because the characterization of the boys is so on point. How would the reckless and social little sister fare with the Mukamis as her brothers? Part of me thinks she'd have more freedom with them than with the Sakamakis but of course Ruki is controlling and protective of his siblings even under normal circumstances and both he and Kou are possessive af so...maybe not?

Thank you for all your hard work <3

RECKLESS, OVERLY SOCIAL LITTLE SISTER

Note: I love you. I love you. I love you! Thank you for reading and I completely agree with that so let's get to it! Enjoy. ♡

Synopsis: This scenario “reckless, overly social little sister ” but Mukami version.

Pairing: platonic Mukami brothers x gn! Sibling reader (feminine pronouns used)

Format: Headcanons

WARNING(S): none

Want more Diabolik lovers? → Masterlist! ★

RUKI MUKAMI

Though not overbearing he is quite strict. Conceivably a bit more than he is to his brothers. As the youngest and only sister in the Mukami household, Ruki finds his behavior to be simply out of love. You are young and impressionable, and he will not allow someone to take advantage of that.

You being overly social was not the most ideal outcome, but he can't complain. It could be worse. Although that doesn't mean, Ruki won't watch your interactions very closely. If you were a bit older, perhaps he'd let lose a little more. Until then your stick with his incessant nagging that every Mukami seemed to have some experience with.

“As long as you follow the rules, I have no qualms with it. However try not to stray too far from my sight, it seems your little endeavors can get a little...me ssy.”

KOU MUKAMI

The two of you are the same, adventure-wise. Kou would take you anywhere you want if you ask him to. But if you steer too far from him, he might be a bit skeptical. Ugh, just the thought of losing you in a crowd is absolutely petrifying! Don't expect him to let you go in any forests or lakes, you're too cute to risk getting injured in any way and it would kill him to see your face with even the tiniest blemish.

Now your chatty side is a different story. Being an idol demands Kou to be social with his peers. But you're not an idol; you're his sweet little sister that should know better than to talk to just anybody. This world is infested with liars and snakes, so it's his job to protect you from them. After all, he can see what others cannot.

“Hm, I'm a little sad. It's almost like my precious baby is growing distant from me~! Is it true, please say it's not!”

YUMA MUKAMI

Everyone has hobbies but Yuma finds yours to be rather concerning, which he reminds you of every single day. And like any "normal" brother he forces you to work long hours with him in his garden in hopes to mellow you out. But of course, it doesn't work so he settles for tagging along with you.

Yuma is the least worried about you making new friends. He taught you how to defend yourself and you being immortal is also a plus. But that doesn't mean he won't beat some ass if they hurt you or your feelings. All in all, as long as you were safe I suppose he won't question you too much.

“What're ya' doin'? Beat their asses already! Tsk, who taught ya' to act so god damn docile? Next time listen to me, will ya'!”

AZUSA MUKAMI

The most supportive brother award goes to Azusa Mukami! No, but seriously, he is your biggest hype man. Amongst the others, he is the most eager to greet you upon your return, not only because he missed you but out of curiosity as well. Though Azusa has no interest in venturing beyond the manor as you do, he still finds attraction in the stories you bring with you.

For someone so into pain he hates seeing you hurt, emotionally at that. Not everyone is as kind as others so you're bound to have a few shitty interactions. And like any other person, it turns your sweet expression sour. It pains him that he can't do much about it but he'll do his very best to take your mind off of it!

“Welcome home, did you have fu...n? Aah, that makes me so happy. Come....tell me more, Ive miss...ed you very much.”

[cymk8]

Any thoughts (happy ones and/or angst ones👀) on a shadowlach au where they knew each other when they were younger in baldurs gate and then meet again during the game?

I am vibrating out of my skin.

The thing I love about this au, which I have thought about A LOT actually, is that it isn't too impossible — I actually think it can even be canon, because either way *Shadowheart would have had every experience with her wiped from her memory.*

ANYWAY time to be Gay™:

They probably met a few times as teens, probably from intersecting assignments as a bodyguard and a Sharran in training

Shadowheart is implied to have been planted in the city as a noble and trained to blend in with high society (her prissy little accent is telling LMFAO) (SIDE NOTE: it would also be absolutely hilarious that she might even have met Astarion this way or even Wyll as a bratty little shit)

Karlach most likely met her during assignments where she would be responsible for anything from cargo to actually being a guard/attendant for a while

While I want the DELULU to take the reins and say she was a personal guard to her once...I think it's funnier to think that they simply ran into each other enough times to recognize the other; I'd imagine Gortash being especially eager to suck up to nobility

They would have a rather sweet relationship — I'm sure the dashing figure Karlach might have cut would have Awakened Things™ inside of Shadowheart (I mean if I saw a woman throw a couple of sacks of potatoes over her shoulders like it was nothing...[gunshots])

They probably had simple meetings when they happened to work nearby, maybe a lunch or a silly little adventure — nothing much, but just two kids being afforded to feel normal outside the stuffy roles they had

I think Shadowheart would have been the type to sneak Karlach food or things like pretty, girlish accessories that Karlach expressed interest in but couldn't get or felt uncomfortable/guilty in wanting to express herself with — and probably influenced Shadowheart to continue to be way too nice as a Sharran even with her memory wiped

At the end of it, their lives took them through different paths. Karlach might have held on to their memories together for comfort, the name slipping through her mind the longer she spent in the Hells (not that it mattered — I'm sure Shadowheart would have been under a pseudonym)...and Shadowheart would have simply forgotten

ANYWAY. It makes me fucking emo because the 'first' meeting between them would've felt like seeing someone familiar in a way they couldn't explain. And they would never know why that might be

[starsreminisce]

Some e/riels really want to make Elain the mean girl that they are

Well, here goes nothing...

Let's get one thing straight: Elain isn't going to march up to Gwyn and start a hair-pulling, milkshake-throwing, passive-aggressive showdown. Gwyn hasn't done anything to deserve that treatment. She can't help it if both Az and Nesta treat her differently from Elain. Elain's issue isn't with Gwyn. It's with Nesta. And now, we're seeing Elain push back against Nesta's overprotectiveness, especially when she volunteered to search for the trove.

Some fans seem to want Elain to become this vengeful, "mean girl" character, shedding her good-girl image to match Azriel's demeanor. But Elain's version of "mean" could cut Azriel to the core.

There's a kind of meanness that comes with laying bare someone's flaws—not to hurt, but to finally express what's been bottled up for too long. There's a meanness in honesty, too. Sometimes, you have to draw the line and speak your truth, even if it stings.

People don't suddenly grow claws. They've always been there, waiting to be wielded when necessary. And in SF, it looks like Elain's reached that point, where others are deciding her truth for her.

Sure, some fans are hoping for a Villain Elain, but it's ironic how we're demonized for standing up for ourselves or wanting to take up space. I think Elain's journey will be more about asserting herself and saying, "I need you to hear me."

But Nesta cut her off, seething at the pity about to be thrown her way. “Look who decided to grow claws after all,” she crooned. “Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.” Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. Elain’s eyes brightened with pain. Something imploded in Nesta’s chest at that expression. She opened her mouth, as if it could somehow be undone. But Elain said, “I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And itcaptured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.” Nesta blinked, everything inside her hollowing out.

Azriel struggles with criticism—we've seen it time and time again. That's why I doubt Az and Elain could work out. Elain is starting to call people out, and Az tends to freeze up when confronted. If Elain were to challenge Azriel over his objections to her searching for the trove, would it lead to a productive conversation? Their conversations could easily turn icy, as we've seen with Feyre's orders to him as his High Lady.

But there's someone who handles criticism well—or at least, better than Az.

My nails dug into my palms hard enough to hurt, but I remained seated on the bedroll as I bared my teeth at him. “And that’s why you’re here. Not because it’s right and he’s always been wrong, but just so you can get what you think you’re owed.” “She is my mate and in my enemy’s hands—” “I’ve made no secret from the start that Elain is safe and cared for.” “And I’m supposed to believe you.” “Yes,” I hissed. “You are. Because if I believed for one moment that my sisters were in danger, no High Lord or king would have kept me from going to save them.” He just shook his head, the candlelight dancing over his hair. “You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned? Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply for fear of what it might do to her?” I didn’t answer. “Well? What was your grand plan for me before Ianthe interfered?”

Lucien faced Feyre's accusations head-on when they clashed over priorities. He didn't deflect; he engaged. He was ready to hash it out, even when Feyre wasn't. Lucien could have abandoned her, returned to Tamlin, but he stayed. There was no bargain between them, so he had a choice—and he chose to stand by her.

I'm eager to see a showdown between Elain and Lucien about their bond. How will Lucien react when Elain claims he's entitled to her? And how will Elain respond when Lucien says he's done all he can to stay out of her life?

It promises to be a cathartic conversation, especially now that Elain's been rejected twice—presumably because of their bond.

[aphrodisiac-siren]

Coffee and Cigarettes~

Modern!Aemond X Reader

Summary: When Aemond's date doesn’t go as planned, one of his feisty classmates comes to his aid and manages to catch his eye, and not by her beauty, but mostly by her bold personality.

~my wifey @its-actually-minicika helped with the plot points and she gets loads of kissies for it mwaahh~

Also I'm sorry I went on a small break oops maybe the next chapter will be spicy?👀

Part 1, Part 2

Part 3

"What do you mean you don't see it?"

Aemond scrunched his nose as Y/N brought her hands up to cup his face, squishing his cheeks as she tiled his face to the side for Aegon to see as if his own brother hadn’t any memory of what he looked like.

"Tell me he doesn’t look like Alucard" she asked the older boy, still holding Aemond's face while he tried to wiggle out of her grasp. He wrapped his larger hand around her smaller wrists and she obliged and let go of his reddening face but let her hands drop onto his lap; a subtle gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Aemond.

"That vampire dude from Castlevania?" Aegon asked as he cocked a brow "I mean I would say yes, when my twat of a brother had his hair all grown out. But I still find it offensive you'd compare this monkey to him"

Aemond only rolled his eye, not too keen on arguing with his brother of all people, but Y/N was quick to respond.

"That's so mean, Aemond is hot"

Aegon chortled at this while Aemond gave her a sly smile, as if he didn’t believe a single word from the sentence that left her lips. And even though she sounded genuine, there was no fucking way she believed what she herself uttered.

Flattery at its finest, he thought.

He picked up his book once again, the one he had been reading before the entire debate of him and Alucard being lookalikes commenced. It was this old book he'd found in a bookstore, dusty and on the 'sale' rack and he wondered how anyone could pass by a book like this one and not want to pick it up and glance through it.

"Put that book down will you?" Aegon rolled his eyes from behind the kitchen counter as he fixed himself a cup of coffee "your obsession with dragons is getting weird now"

"I'm not obsessed" Aemond nonchalantly replied, not bothering to look up from the pages that bore the most interesting information in his opinion. He was well aware his boyish fancy with the mythical creatures would come across as odd and childish to most people but he didn’t really care much about Aegon's opinion and in the few weeks that he'd spent with Y/N, he came to a conclusion that she was not really one to judge someone for things as such.

Either she was too nice or just didn’t care.

"Dragons huh" She leaned closer and Aemond was expecting for her glance into the book but she instead rested her head in his lap as she examined the cover of the book he held from underneath "what's your favourite kind?"

"Oh god, don’t tell me you’re just as much of a nerd as he is" Aegon called out and Y/N simply rolled her eyes in response as she flipped him off to which Aegon responded to by sticking out his tongue "they're all the same. Large lizards with wings"

"Not exactly" Both Aemond and Y/N said at the same time and while the younger Targaryen brother took a moment to ponder over their perfectly synchronised response, Y/N continued to talk, as if their chorus of an answer did not fascinate her.

"There are European dragons, wyverns and Asian dragons" she spoke aloud as she traced the cover of the book, hoping that Aemond had a good grip on the book or else it would fall right onto her face "each one differs from the next. Did you know that-"

Aegon let out a dramatic groan as he plugged his ears shut like a child throwing a tantrum.

"You like dragons?" Aemond asked even though the answer was pretty obvious. He just never thought she of all people would be interested in something like this that most would term as nerdy.

"Duh" Y/N replied, now rather eager and enthusiastic about the conversation taking place "I had this one book when I was a kid by Earnest Drake and-"

"Not another word or I'll change my opinion of you being one of the cool kids"

"I am, regardless of what you say" the girl instantly retorted "dragons are pretty cool"

Aemond grinned at this, as if it was a compliment directed straight at him and not the bloody dragons that he was reading about. Furthermore, he was rather impressed and surprised in equal measure, that she of all people would have any remote knowledge about dragons.

The boy all of a sudden felt himself smiling even wider and he wanted more than anything to go on a whole-ass rant but he kept his composure so as to not frighten her off with his enthusiasm for the winged beasts.

He simply shut the book, after placing his bookmark amidst the pages, and gently booped her nosed with the spine of the book.

"Hey" Y/N giggled as she scrunched her nose, fondly looking up at the boy who was gazing down at her with the same level of fondness "what was that for"

"I didn’t do anything" Aemond snidely said as he shrugged, leaning slightly to his right to keep the book back onto the little table by the couch.

All of a sudden he couldn’t care any less about the book. He was far more curious to figure out the pretty girl who's head rested in his lap. What other interests did she have? Did she like literature too? Would she find ancient languages fascinating? Did she like Aemond? What would her lipgloss taste like? Would she moan or whimper if he-

What-

Aemond's eye widened at his own thoughts. Why the fuck would he even think of-

Stop it Aemond, He scolded himself inwardly she's your friend.

"What" she asked again with a smile as she looked up at Aemond who had momentarily zoned out and then tried to play it off by clearing his throat in a completely not-an-awkward way.

"I mh- nothing, just zoned out" Aemond said in his monotone voice that Y/N was slowly starting to find adorable rather than daunting.

"Just zoned out" she repeated and for a moment Aemond was willing to bet she had read his thoughts despite how ridiculous and impossible the probability of that happening was.

To his contentment, all she did was hum and get comfortable in his lap.

"Movie?" she asked aloud and Aegon shot her a thumbs up as Aemond nodded in agreement.

The silence that accompanied them as they scrolled through Netflix lasted only about a few seconds before each one tried to argue and pick the film they liked best. It was like a classroom full of toddlers who had gotten into a heated debate over who their favourite superhero was.

"We're not watching some shitty ass rom-com" Aegon blew a raspberry "we're going to watch a class-A horror movie"

"Absolutely not" Y/N snapped "you didn’t even hear me out to see which movie I picked"

"I think Hacksaw Ridge is the best pick" Aemond snatched the remote before Y/N could, which resulted in the girl pouting just to see if it would make Aemond submit to her.

It didn’t.

"Nice try" He chuckled which then only made the girl more irritable. She continued to stare at him, her gaze almost burning into his soul as she inched closer and closer until her chest was borderline pressed against his, her nose barely touching his and Aemond knew for a fact that one little move and her lips would collide into his and judging by the mischievous smirk dancing on her lips, she was well aware of it as well.

His heart almost leaped out of his chest when he felt her brush her bottom lip against his own and for those few milliseconds his brain short-circuited. He was about to have a full-blown heart attack but she pulled back and waved the remote proudly in his face that he was holding on to only a few moments ago; which he had absolutely no idea of when she snatched it out of his grasp.

Aemond heard his brother mumble an 'ew' under his breath but he decided not to comment nor give either of them a reaction even though his heart was beating faster. When she turned around to continue her argument with Aegon about the movie, Aemond discreetly swiped his tongue over his bottom lip- right where she'd brushed her own lips.

He softly hummed to himself when he tasted the faintest hint of her cherry lipgloss that she'd left behind in those few seconds of contact and he had to once again scold himself when he caught his brain thinking about wanting to taste more of it.

In the end, Aegon agreed to watch Y/N's choice of movie after they'd watched the horror movie he'd suggested.

Not having any more energy to argue, Y/N and Aemond just agreed.

"Don't worry Aems" she whispered into his ear as they got comfortable under the blankets on the couch "we both can watch your movie after Aeg drifts off to sleep. Or maybe spend the rest of the night in a different way, if you know what I mean"

Aemond's cheeks turned red and he was thankful that the lights were turned off. Y/N didn’t bother waiting for an answer nor did she bother clarifying if she was joking or being serious.

"Cig?" Aegon asked Aemond as he picked one from the pack for himself. The younger brother swiftly took the lone cig from his hand and then the pack which made Aegon sit upright in retaliation "yo what the fu-"

"Not right now" Aemond said sternly as he placed the cigarettes aside and away from Aegon, shooting his thumb in the direction where Y/N was sitting "she doesn’t like it"

Y/N bit the insides of her cheeks to stop herself from smiling; for some reason, she found the gesture cute.

"Simp" Aegon mumbled.

"Shut up" Aemond snapped.

And just to annoy him, Aegon repeated it again, emphasising the 'p' sound at the end that had Aemond groan and Y/N chuckle at their antics.

The excitement that Y/N had when starting the horror movie quickly died down since the movie Aegon picked did not live upto her expectations. The plot was cliché and the jump scares were poorly executed.

"Remind me why we're watching this again?" she asked as she made a face at the pathetic acting.

"Cause the leading actress is hot" Aegon smirked "nice tits"

Y/N rolled her eyes but then again, she wasn’t really surprised by his answer.

"I was more interested in our talks about those books" she whispered in Aemond's ear, making sure to brush her lips against his hot skin "dragons are pretty fascinating eh? Maybe you can show me yours"

Aemond's eye widened and he immediately turned to face her.

"Books" she said with a straight face, inwardly enjoying his abashed reaction to her cheeky statement "I meant you can show me your books on dragons that you have"

"Right" Aemond cleared his throat, quickly looking away from her and back toward the T.V. screen "books, of course"

Aemond wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what she meant and he knew she wasn’t one to shy away from even doing whatever was on her mind- be it something as innocent as a kiss or something too sinful to even say aloud. The only thing that he found odd was that if he ever found himself in a situation that fell into either of the two categories, he did not seem to mind as long as it was with her.

What caused this sudden change? He couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was her feistiness from that day at the cafe or that underneath all of her ferociousness was a girl who was just as much of a geek as him and didn’t give two fucks about it.

Was he starting to like her? Probably.

Should he allow himself to like her? Probably not.

He was well aware he never had much luck when it came to dating and he wasn’t going to allow himself to get his hopes up only for it all to get shattered right to the ground.

But then again, she barely gave him any reason to feel insecure. That was a good sign, right?

Right?

Taglist: @melsunshine @yentroucnagol @alexa4040 @boofy1998 @rorawinters @fan-goddess @howdoichangemynameto

[kalivasquezart]

Just wanted to say that I absolutely love your au about the Pioneer. Its so well thought out and just overall amazing and oh boy dont even get me started on your art— absolutely beautiful💖💕

I also am working on an au based off of Artis pups and when I found you I was like 🫢🫵 Very similar ideas 👀👀👀Also Hunter as Pioneer’s mentor is SUCH A COOL CONCEPT— Like like cause Hunters my favorite scug and the fact that you included him in your au and as Marbles’ mentor is just *squeals* but it also makes a lot of sense considering he comes a little bit after Arti and is one of the few scugs who can encounter pups in their campaign. I also wanted to ask if its okay with you if I use that idea/concept in my own au 👉👈

I was also thinking about Pioneer’s brother— Ik you said that you hc him as being dead, like officially, but I thought it would be interesting if he was still alive. I personally was inspired to let him live in my au simply because of some official art of Gorum (specifically his endings art especially the food quest one where he has a suspiciously familiar green slugpup). I was thinking something like what happened to Surv and Monk (the one-way pipe considering the fact that he kind of began to drift to the right as he sank) happened to him and Gorum found him. Idk these are just ideas Im using for my own au but thought I would share.

I just realized this is super long sorry HANDNAND I am insane and write too much

ahhhh thank you for the kind words skek YOU FLATTER ME~

[there are rain world spoilers regarding artificer's capaign below, be warned]

while my current headcanon is that the green pup died, i've been thinking very hard about it for the last week or so, and IMO there's a high chance i will retcon that. if the pipe thing is canon to Surv/Monk campaigns then i'm even more eager to adopt that idea. my only real hold-up about the pup was that we clearly see it drown in Arti's dream (the same flashing aura behaviour when you swim underwater), and if he really did drown then the only way to bring him back to life would be through karmic rebirth "last checkpoint save" kind of thing… which feels a bit cheap? a little too simple for me. i'm heavily biased here, because a while ago i read an interesting lore post of someone trying to explain why Arti's pups wouldn't "respawn" if they were killed, while Arti did. in short, the pups were too young to be bound by karma and so when they died, they died for good (reincarnated as a different creature, maybe) - but Artificer being an adult and already having experienced the urges before, was brought back. if i can, i will try to find that post again, and link it here.

ANYWAY yeah, personal AUs don't have to strictly comform to the game's canon, i keep forgetting about that. hell, i've seen people revive scav king or, i dunno, SOS from the dead, and they made it work.

speaking of my AU again, i may also have headcanon'd Arti's mate as a semi-aquatic scug (less freaky than riv tho), and so Bryn/green pup would have inherited some of those genes, making him more likely to survive the drowning. so yeah, i think i like the storytelling potential of keeping the pup alive, althought i'd have to sit down and do a proper brainstorming on what that means… when Arti and Marbles eventually reunite with their long lost other half of the family.

by the way, if you (or anyone else reading this post) wants to use my ideas in their own AU then i'm okay with that! no need to credit or anything. many people come up with similar concepts anyway, it'd be silly to try and police them on it.