#maybe this is the incentive i need to finally do so? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoonieyun · 3 months ago

Note

Omg this is kinda silly but imagine enhypen reacting to their girl (who’s in cheer) doing the Christmas dance from mean girls for a Christmas cheer performance

Jingle Bell Rock ✧˖°.

performing jingle bell rock from mean girls in front of enha hyung-line

warnings: suggestive, kissing, consensual touching, provocative outfits and dance moves, 18+ and not proofread LOL genre: fluff, romance, slight angst, college au, enha hyung line x cheerleader!yn notes: thank you for this request!! tbh my requests are closed but i thought it was too good not to do. i hope you were okay that i played around with the story a bit and didn't just leave it strictly to just reacting to the dance LOL

frat bro!heeseung ⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆ — wc: 1053

— the red velvet two piece mrs. claus outfit that you had on would’ve been really cute if one: you weren’t freezing your ass off and two: your cheer captain wasn’t forcing you and the rest of the cheer team to perform “jingle bell rock” for a winter fundraiser at your university. you would’ve been fine performing in these clothes since they were fairly similar to your cheer uniform but the fact that heeseung, the boy from your finance 301 class, that you have had a crush on was also at the fundraising event for his frat.

you were dreading having to perform this song because it seems that all of the university student body was in attendance and so was the boy you have been crushing on all semester. your advances towards him tended to fail as you would chicken out last minute to talk to him and since you can’t back out now; you’re taking this opportunity to make a lasting impression on him. who knows, maybe he really likes the song “jingle bell rock”.

the host of the fundraiser has just finished introducing you and the rest of the cheer team and the audience roars in applause. your cheer team was very popular because you had previously won the national championship for the last 3 years, opposite of the (american) football team who hasn’t won a championship since the late 90s.

you and the rest of the girls get into position and as the darkness fades into a spotlight that shined over your group, the song began and your routine was in full swing. you had copied the choreography from the movie “mean girls” but since the move didn’t feature a full routine, your cheer captain came up with something for the full song; provocative thigh slap included.

trying your best to not make eye contact with anyone specific in the crowd, your eyes just happen to land on heeseung as the thigh slap part of the choreography arrives and his eyes are dead set on your figure. you even at some point glance over again and he’s biting his lip and as much as you wanted to grimace at the unspoken interactions between the two of you, you needed to remain composed for the rest of the performance.

the rest of the performance goes without a hitch and you could say that the cheer team’s popularity was the biggest incentive of this fundraiser because the performance doubled the donations right after you and the rest of the girls left the stage.

you bid goodbye to some of the cheer girls as they weren’t planning on staying for the whole event and as you contemplated staying, you’re taken out of your thoughts when someone clears their throat behind you. as you turn around to see who it is, you’re met with the one and only, heeseung.

your cheeks instantly burn a shade of pink and as much as you wanted to run and hide from heeseung, you knew that this was the moment you needed to finally talk to the boy you’ve had a crush on for the last 3 months.

“you did amazing out there, that outfit looks really good on you.” heeseung says, walking a bit closer so that the gap between the two of you was much smaller. “really?” you ask and he nods, smiling down at you. you mutter a small thank you as you pick up your bag, “you have any plans for the rest of the night?” he asks and you realize you hadn’t fully decided if you were staying for the rest of the fundraiser.

“if not, i’d like to take you out. this fundraiser blows anyways.” he adds and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his bluntness. “isn’t your frat here? don’t you guys need to kiss up to the rich guys to get more funding for whatever frat stuff you need?” you tease and now it was his turn to chuckle at you. heeseung nods like you had just read him like a book and although you didn’t mean it as an insult; it comes off as a tease and heeseung likes that.

“yeah, but i mostly came when i heard my favorite cheerleader was going to be here.” he retorts and if your cheeks weren’t already the shade of a tomato, they sure were now. you couldn’t help but admit to him that it was a smooth move and that you’d like to accept his offer. the two of you leave the university hall hand in hand as heeseung brings you over to his car, taking you to the restaurant that just so happened to be your favorite in your college town.

“ugh, i love this place!” you exclaim in excitement mixed with chill as the cold winter air whips past you. “i know.” heeseung says while nstinctly wrapping his jacket around you as you make your way inside. the two of you get a few things on the menu to share and spend dinner talking about life, finance 301, your future plans, and whatever else popped into your head.

“wait– you said you knew this was my favorite restaurant, how?” you ask and heeseung seems to get shy; like he had just been caught doing something. “well, i actually asked your cheer captain about you and she told me this would be the best place to take you on a date.” he confessed and you couldn’t help but let the smile you were fighting back just spread across your lips. “date?” you ask and he nods eagerly.

“i’ve had a crush on you since the first day of finance 301 when you called out the professor for making a sexist comment about your clothes.” he says and you pout at him. not because you were sad, no; far from it, you pouted because his words were so endearing and that his first impression and root of his crush on you stems from you standing up for yourself and morals. you later confessed to heeseung that you also have had a crush on him for the same amount of time and the two of you share a laugh thinking about you would’ve started dating a lot sooner if either of you had just gotten some courage to talk to the other.

boyfriend!jongseong ⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆ — wc: 1010

—- you had a surprise for your boyfriend, one that you knew he would definitely like. you had been on the cheer team at your university since freshman year and have been doing cheer since high school, when you met jay, your loving boyfriend. your cheer team was putting on a special performance for your university’s winter showcase where all proceeds would be donated to buying christmas gifts and holiday presents to the children and families.

the winter showcase was always really fun and for the last 2 years, you and the cheer team avoided participating because you just wanted to enjoy the show for yourselves, but this year; as captain you suggested joining and the rest of the team was surprisingly on board. you had decided on doing the “jingle bell rock” performance from mean girls, minus the chaos towards the end. this movie, although it has questionable humor and moments, was nostalgic to you because you forced jay to watch it when you were in high school and he cringed at the whole thing; prompting him to make you watch something else before the jingle bell rock performance could even happen during the movie.

in the 4 years that you and jay have been dating, you’ve never been one to dress in revealing clothes, even in your cheer uniform, you opted for the version that was long sleeved and less cropped, the skirt however, a whole different story. you had nothing against revealing clothes, it was just a personal taste that you never got comfortable finding, until recently. the confidence you found when trying on your christmas outfits for the performance was something you hadn’t felt before and with jay’s kindness, who always encouraged you and told you that you are beautiful at least 10 times a day, you were starting to like this side of yourself.

jay knew you were doing the performance however, he had no idea that the performance would entail a revealing mrs. claus outfit, something he would’ve known had he not stopped the mean girls movie during your sleepover.

the group before your cheer team was doing their bows and soon you would be up next. you were a bit nervous to see how jay would react because you had never worn something like this before but knowing jay, he would call you beautiful if you were wearing a full mascot suit. you gave the cheer team a quick pep talk and soon enough you were all walking to the center of the stage to get in position. with the lights low and anticipation washing over the crowd, you took one deep breath before the music started. the bright white lights of the stage shone over you and you kept a smile on your face throughout the routine.

your routine was a mixture of the original dance routine from the movie and more traditional cheer formations and moves. you tried your best to spot jay in the crowd and just as the routine got to the more sexy and provocative part, you make eye contact with him and he’s got his eyes narrowed at you like you were the only person in the room. he often looked at you that way when he was checking you out and right now; he was undoubtedly checking you out.

you get a bit flustered under his gaze and he lets out a chuckle at your reaction, knowing that his gaze alone had such a big effect on you. you spend the rest of the performance fighting off the urge to look over at jay but failing miserably as you naturally were pulled in his direction; and each time, he held the same gaze that only made your cheeks more red.

at the end of the showcase, you found jay waiting for you outside, leaning on his car with a black leather jacket– and if he thought you looked good in your performance outfit, he was breathtaking.

“there’s my favorite cheerleader— or should i say, mrs. claus?” he says as he wraps his arms around you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “you did amazing up there.” he adds and you blush under his touch and compliment. jay always knew the right things to say and you melted at his advances and gestures every time. you mutter a small thank you as you place a kiss on his lips—- he later opens the passenger door to help you in and you immediately start his car for him so you could turn the heater on.

“where we headed, babe?” you ask and jay smirks at you.

“well, jake is gone for the weekend so i’ve got the whole place to myself.” he explains and you already knew where this was going without him having to explain it. the drive to his place was filled with chatter as you explained the performance and how much he loved it but loved your outfit even more.

“so does that mean, if you’re sexy mrs. claus, does that make me sexy santa claus?” he asks and you can’t help but laugh at his silly question— “i guess you are, huh?” you answer as he grabs your hand and places a quick kiss on your knuckles before returning both hands on the wheel. the two of you made your way to jay’s apartment and before you could even get fully inside, his hands were on you like he was starving for your touch and kisses.

the rest of the weekend was filled with tender and loving moments with jay as he tries to convince you to put on a special performance just for him in your outfit. something that was going to occupy his mind until you find a way to replace that image in his head with something even better. “i wish you saved this outfit just for me” he says as he pulls out his polaroid camera from his shelf and aims at you so that he could forever have the memory of you as his sexy mrs. claus as a polaroid picture.

nerd!jaeyun ⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆ — wc: 1313

—- jake was pretty shy, at least with others, with you however; he was a completely different person. his usual shy and calm demeanor would shift into a more teasing, outgoing, and even cocky attitude— and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like that side of him.

to others, jake would be categorized as a nerd. his black thick rimmed glasses, his love for math and physics, his work ethic, and constant drive to have the best academic score he could get; he was definitely a nerd but he was your nerd. your friends used to tease you about your crush on jake because he didn’t seem to be the type to pay any attention to a cheerleader but to jake and everyone’s surprise, he was very impressed with your knowledge on physics– something that made his eyes turn into hearts.

he likes the fact that you’re smart and the fact that you were a beautiful cheerleader was just a plus to him– not caring about physical attributes or materialistic things when it comes to who he likes or would fall in love with. jake never failed to let you know what he loved about you and it seemed that it was just about everything. sure jake was a nerd, but at home when you were in his arms, he was the furthest from it.

jake went to all of the games at your university, not because he cared about the sports, but because you would be there in your pretty cheer costume, something that he’s realized to be one of his favorite things. sure you looked attractive in the cheer costume, but seeing your confidence and grace as you perform your cheer routine with that beautiful smile on your pretty lips that he just loved so much and did so many things to him that you couldn’t ever imagine.

so there you were, getting into position for the halftime performance for your university’s (american) football game before winter break. the cold air nipped at your thighs and knees and turned them a slight red shade but you knew that the cold would only last a few minutes as you’d begin to feel the warmth when your routine started. the people in the audience cheered as you and the rest of the cheer team filed out onto the space in front of the stands and you instantly spotted jake, his big glasses sitting lower on the tip of his nose as he eyed you up and down. you sent him a wave with a flying kiss and he returned it with a wink, causing your heart to flutter.

jake’s friends teased him, nudging him & laughing at your interaction as he was clearly very flustered and down bad for you; your new outfit for the winter game made his mind run wild. you and the rest of the cheer team were dressed as elves while the school’s mascot had a santa claus outfit on. he loved seeing you in your cheer uniform buit this outfit you had on right now was doing things to him that he hadn’t ever felt before. who knew dressing up as a sexy christmas elf would make your boyfriend get hot in the face and slightly jealous that the rest of the school was also witnessing you in something he wished he could keep all to himself.

your performance soon started and the familiar tune of jingle bell rock begins. jake wasn’t aware you guys would be doing a christmas themed routine and definitely wasn’t aware how seductive it would be. he tried his best to hold his composure while watching you but he just couldn’t hold out any longer, his last straw being when you slapped your hands onto your soft thighs and he swears he could hear the skin make contact even over the sound of the music and people cheering.

jake excuses himself in the middle of the performance and his friends barely pay him any attention, all of them too focused on the rest of the cheer team; mesmerized by the routine and their alluring aura. jake’s sudden absence doesn’t go unnoticed by you and your smile fades as you watch him leave, unsure why but hoping that he is okay. jake doesn’t ever return to the game and whenever you’d look over to where he was sitting before, his friends would only give you a shrug when you mouthed to them, “where’s jake?”. even your cheer members noticed his absence and you couldn’t give them an answer outside of “i don’t know” when they’d ask where he ran off to.

you wished you could just leave and go find him but your phone was in the locker rooms and you were obligated to stay until the end of the game.

after what felt like eternity, the game was finally over with your university’s team winning and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. you ran to the locker room to grab your phone to call jake only to find one text from him reading, “meet me at our spot.” and you knew exactly where to find him.

your spot was the abandoned music building on the far side of campus that was no longer in use because your school had built a whole new music building and had no plans for the old building any time soon. you and jake would often meet up there when both of your roommates were home so you could have some time to yourselves. you bid your friends and cheer members goodbye and ran over to your spot; which thankfully wasn’t very far from where the locker rooms were.

as you got closer to the building, you could see jake’s red 2004 subaru impreza parked in front of the building and judging by how it was parked poorly, he definitely ried to get there in a rush of some sort. you slowly pushed the door open with a creak and were engulfed in the darkness. you reached around for the light switch that was to the left of the entrance but suddenly, all the lights were on and you’re met with christmas lights and decorations adorned throughout the walls with jake sitting in the middle of the opening with a blanket and some of your favorite foods.

you run over to him and he catches you in his arms just as you jump. “hi pretty.” he says before placing a kiss on your plump lips. “you did this for me?” you ask and he nods while putting you back down on your feet. jake grabs your hand and guides you to blanket, the both of you sitting across from each other and jake has to stop himself from acting out on his feelings as he watches your legs press together while you are still in your costume.

when you asked jake why he suddenly left, he sighed before responding and confessing that he needed to finish preparing this special moment for the two of you– “is that it..?” you tease and jake chuckles, knowing that it was definitely more to it than just that.

“and i may or may not think you looked so hot out there. i contemplated just grabbing you mid performance so i could have you all to myself.” he says with a smirk and redness creeps its way onto your cheeks as you melt at his confession.

you loved every part of jake, but this side of him that was confident, a little cocky, and enticing made your heart do somersaults which was only fair because although jake first fell for you because of how impressed he was with your intelligence, he loved seeing you in your cute outfits and cheer costume that left little to his imagination— but it’s not like it wasn’t something he hadn’t seen plenty of times before.

jock!sunghoon ⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆ — wc: 1217

—as cliche as your relationship was with sunghoon as cheerleader and jock, you wouldn't change a single thing. you were both the star crossed lovers of your university and as 4th years, the two of you had become the poster children for your university’s student body and atheltics program.

the two of you excel in your own sports, cheer and ice hockey, which meant for a lot of competitive games, travelling to play against opposing universities, promotional events, and meetings with sports officials and rich folks to get them to write checks for thousands of dollars directed to your school. you had wished that cheer was just something you could do because you loved dancing and performing but it was starting to become who you were and you weren’t sure that was what you wanted for yourself.

sunghoon on the other hand, loved it, the praise, the opportunities, sponsorships, all of it. he loved that people loved how good he was at skating and hockey and you couldn’t blame him. he was the all star of your university having been the only freshmen to be added to the varsity roster and scouted by big league officials in just his 2nd year. you were so proud of his trajectory as an athlete but you couldn’t help but think about how you were on the opposite end of that spectrum.

as sunghoon’s popularity grew he loved the sport more and more—but as your popularity grew, you began to hate the sport and you didn’t know why.

you had everything, a loving boyfriend, supportive friends and family, on track to graduate, a three year competitive cheer champion and because it was your 4th year, you had been appointed as head cheerleader– so why did you begin to loathe the sport that took over your life at such a young age.

maybe that was why.

cheer was everything you knew starting at the age of 6 years old and as much as you were grateful for where cheerleading has brought you, the pressure, the intensity, and constant battle to be on top was starting to feel like you were always fighting for something that you weren’t even sure you wanted anymore. cheerleading had become too competitive and less fun and you just needed to do something that didn’t involve an immense amount of pressure.

something fun, just for you, and had low stakes.

and that’s when your university’s performing arts program announced that they would be putting on a winter talent show where all proceeds would go into the arts program and although the sports and arts program didn’t have the best relationship; the sports program being favored over the arts which was a story as old as time, you decided that the talent show would be something you could do. it had no winners, everyone was encouraged to participate, and you thought about how maybe a prominent student being a part of something that could help the arts program would help alleviate the tension between the two sides of the school.

when you brought this up to your boyfriend sunghoon, he laughed at first, but when he realized that you were serious he wasn’t completely sure it was a good idea. all of his reasons were valid, the arts program hates the athletes and vice versa and he was afraid it would ruin your reputation but you didn’t care.

you told sunghoon you were just thinking about it and weren’t sure if you would sign up but deep down you were 100% and for the next month or so, you would practice a routine with some of the other cheer girls who you were able to convince to join you for the talent show.

practicing for the talent show became more enjoyable than cheer practice and even your friends who joined you would agree. the atmosphere of talent show rehearsals was fairly laid back and although the arts students were surprised to see the head cheerleader and 3 other cheerleaders apply for the talent show, you all warmed up to one another fairly quickly.

it’s the night before the talent show when you finally tell sunghoon that you were going to be in it with some of the girls and you’d be performing a rendition of “jingle bell rock” from mean girls and sunghoon was shocked. not because you ended up joining the talent show without his knowledge but because he knew that scene all too well. a smile breaks out onto his lips as he begins to imagine you in a sexy christmas outfit and he was more than elated to attend to watch his girl be the star you were on stage.

you tried to calm your nerves as you walked in the darkness to center stage, looking over into the crowd and not seeing any faces was a bit nerve-racking but as the lights emerged from above and jingle bell rock began to play, all of your nerves ceased to exist as the routine went on and you could see sunghoon smiling at you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

he looked so happy and… proud.

even when the parts of the routine got risque thanks to the choreography from the movie, sunghoon and the rest of the audience was cheering and it only boosted you and your friends confidence, knowing that everyone was right behind all of you.

granted, no one actually cared that the popular cheer captain was mingling with the arts students and it seemed like this rivalry was something that was only made up. after the talent show you met up with sunghoon and he still had that silly toothy smile plastered across his face. you gave him several kisses on the cheek as he scooped you up by the waist with a small spin.

“you were amazing out there.” he says before planting a kiss onto your lips.

“only because i knew you’d be there…” you say, a bit shy and sunghoon notices this.

“are you ok?” he asks and you let out a sigh that feels like it had been carrying the weight of the world with it. were you ok? you weren’t sure.

you tell sunghoon all of your worries while the two of you are sat at the back of his car. you’re laying between his legs, head resting on his chest while he had his arms wrapped around you, rubbing gentle circes on your skin.

“i wish you told me sooner… you know i would support you in anything you do right?” he asks and although your mind was telling you that you would let him down, you ultimately knew that even though you were the cheerleader, sunghoon was your number 1 cheerleader.

you spend the rest of the night in his apartment, talking about what else has been worrying the two of you and how after you graduate, you weren’t sure if cheerleading was something you wanted as your career– but you didn’t know what you wanted to do, however, you knew that having sunghoon by your side every step of the way was all you needed.

afterall, he was your biggest cheerleader and if you weren’t a cheerleader anymore, at least you knew that you would have sunghoon in your corner, rooting for you.

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

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marauder-misprint · 3 months ago

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would u write abt some angsty (mybe w a happy ending?) w remus, please? if possible maybe smtg like the bet trope, im soo down bad with bet tropes, 😔😔😔 im sorry if its a burden, and thank you for spending ur time reading this

You said "bet trope" and I said bet. So it's more fluff than angst... oops? I'll try to get more angst with Remus soon

Conducive

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

additional content

4.7k words

cw: fluff, lil angst,

“Moons, how is it that you’ve never been kissed, yet everyone calls you Casanova?” Sirius asks at dinner in the Great Hall one evening.

Remus raises his eyebrows but doesn’t look away from his plate.

“I respect women?” he offers.

“We all respect women here. But come on, even Peter’s kissed Mary,” James adds.

Remus looks up at his friends. “I’m here for an education. Dumbledore was kind enough to let me be here; least I can do is focus. You three are distraction enough.”

“I just think you could do with some more… distractions,” Sirius says, waving his fork around as a prop to make his point.

“If I wanted a female distraction, I’d have no issues obtaining it.”

“No issues, huh?” Peter asks. “Care to prove it?”

Remus shot him a glare. “Did you miss the part where I said if I wanted it?”

“I don’t see how you don’t want it.”

“Wormy’s got a point,” James says.

“Let me rephrase: If I needed a female distraction,” Remus says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sure, I want it from time to time, but if anyone else found out about my furry little secret, I’d be out of here. So I’m making the most of my time.”

“No one is going to find out!” Sirius says. “Have. Some. Fun.”

“You lot found out.”

“We live with you.”

“Still. You don’t think if I got involved with someone that it would take them that long? It was hard enough lying to you. What if I start to actually like someone? It’d be impossible.”

“Then don’t like them. Just get them to like you enough to kiss them and then ditch them,” Sirius suggests, earning himself a glare from Remus.

“That just sounds cruel.”

“More cruel than you denying yourself feminine company?”

“I’m Casanova, remember? I get plenty of company.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I still think you should prove it,” Peter says. “Do what Pads suggested.”

“What?”

“Get a girl.”

“Keep her ‘round long enough to get off and then you jet. Easy ‘nough, yeah?” James clarifies for Remus, given his mildly confused look.

“No,” Remus says firmly.

“What if we made a bet out of it?” Sirius asks, leaning forward.

That got Remus’ attention.

“Okay, then what do I get out of it? When I win.”

“If, and only if, you can get a girlfriend and snog the living daylights out of her, we will… uh… willingly study with you in the library for finals. We’ll be complacent participants, helping you and ourselves. As you try to drag us to do every year,” Sirius says. He pauses as the other two nod. “And if you fail, butterbeers are on you for the rest of the year.”

Remus snorts. “So if I do it, I just get company in the library and you benefit. But if I lose, I’m financially ruined?”

“More incentive,” Peter retorts.

“You’re on,” Remus says, offering his hand for Sirius to shake. He does. “If I wasn’t sure I could do it, I’d be asking for better terms.”

“Wait!” James interrupts with Remus and Sirius still mid-shake. “I feel like we should pick who it has to be. Otherwise you could just ask Marlene to snog you.”

Remus makes a face. “She’s dating Dorcas, you know this.”

“No, no, he has a point,” Peter says. “Either of them would snog you if you said it was for a bet, especially if it means we,” he gestures to him, James and Sirius, “lose said bet.”

“Fine. Pick the girl. For the love of Godric, pick someone single and semi-tolerable.”

The boys scan the hall, not paying attention to house. Their eyes land on you. All three boys seemed to be in agreement before any of them voiced your name.

“Her,” James says, pointing at you.

You were just as perpetually single as Remus, although he didn’t know what your reason for being so was. It wasn’t like boys never approached you, offering to pay for your drinks at Hogsmeade or to stand by you at the next Quidditch match, but the boys always walked away looking a bit down. You shot them down. Every single one of them.

So in the boys’ attempt to get him to prove his ability to charm a girl, they also wanted to see a miracle. From the grins on their faces, they know it’s going to be impossible.

“So you want my financial ruin?”

“I want either want butterbeer or you to get fucking laid,” Sirius says coolly. “It’s a win-win for me.”

“We said nothing about me getting laid!” Remus exclaims, panicking. “We said kiss, snog, neck, whatever you want to call it. Not laid.”

James laughs, “If you can get a snog out of her, you’re definitely getting laid.”

“I hate that I shook on this already,” Remus groans. He knows he has no way out of this now.

---

You are blissfully unaware of the bet the Marauders have going. You have no reason to think that you are of any concern to them, besides that Remus now occasionally says hello to you in passing. If anything, it feels like the other three are purposefully avoiding you, not that that matters to you. It’s preferable that way. You had always found Remus to be the most tolerable of them, but that didn’t mean you were friends or spoke to him all that often. Right now, it meant that you said hi back to him.

You are studying in the library when Remus comes up and asks if you’d mind if he shared a table with you. There are other tables available, but you agree. You are struggling with your Transfiguration essay and if it comes to it, you’re almost positive you could ask him for help. Until then, you work near each other in silence. That is, until someone else joins your table.

Andrew Lark, a boy in your house, sits across from you.

“You going to Hogsmeade this weekend?” he asks.

“No,” you say shortly, not looking up from your essay, although you do stop writing. You don’t want to write the wrong thing down because Andrew was talking.

“Do you want to? I’d love to take you.”

“No thank you, Andrew.”

“Come on, love. Let me take you out.”

“I have no desire to go to Hogsmeade this weekend, nor do I want to go out with you.”

“Baby, we’d have-” he starts to say.

“Lark, she said no,” Remus says calmly, having stopped working as soon as Andrew approached the table.

Andrew shot Remus an annoyed look. “Wasn’t talking to you, Lupin.”

“I know. But you weren’t listening to her.”

“This doesn’t involve you.”

Remus scoffs. “You interrupted my studying by being here. I’d say I’m semi-involved.”

“Then sit elsewhere,” Andrew says, before turning back to you. “Last chance? It’d be more fun than you’re imagining.”

You give Remus a sideways glance. He’s looking at you, waiting for your response as much as Andrew is.

“Surprise, surprise, Remus is right. I said no.” You give Remus a quick smile before turning back to your essay.

Andrew rolls his eyes and stands up. “Think about it, dove. My offer will always stand.”

Then he walks away. You and Remus both return to your silent working. You feel Remus’ eyes on you every once in a while; you can also tell he’s looking at you from when he pauses his writing, letting his quill just hover above the ink pot longer than a person normally would.

“So what do you have against Hogsmeade?” he asks after a few minutes.

You snort. “Oh, nothing really. Andrew’s been asking me to go with him for months and I’d really rather not go with him. Plus, Slughorn’s essay? Haven’t even started that.”

Remus nods with a breath of relief. “Good, I don’t know how anyone can actually not like Hogsmeade.” He pauses. “Would you like company when you work on that essay?”

The question catches you off guard. You look up at him and you’re sure the shock is evident on your face.

“I, uh, can’t stop anyone from being in the library,” you say, feeling uncertain.

“Well, no,” he chuckles. “But if you’d rather work alone…”

You don’t respond right away; you’re considering it. Remus wasn’t a bother. You didn’t know why he would give up a Hogsmeade trip to be in the library with you though. You knew he usually accompanied his boisterous friends to the village.

“If it’s just you, I suppose company could be nice.” A small smile is playing at your lips in a way Remus has never seen before. “If you’re thinking of bringing the rest of your little gang with you, I’d rather you stay away then.”

Remus chuckles. “Those gits will be off in the village. Possibly pestering Lark.” He sends a wink your way.

You shake your head as you look back down at your essay, but there’s an undeniable smile on your face now. Remus sees it as a success. Maybe with a little persuading from him, the others would let Lark know he needed to back off of you and you’d be free from his pursuits.

Come Saturday, you and Remus are back at the same table. Except he’s sitting across from you and reading as opposed to working on his own assignments.

Curious, you ask, “Weren’t you assigned this essay too?”

“Finished it.”

“And you don’t have anything else to work on?”

“No. That’s why I’m reading.” He flourishes his book for emphasis.

“So you gave up going to Hogsmeade for…” Your voice lilts like you’re asking a question.

“To keep you company while you work.”

“I work alone all the time. I’m usually more productive that way.”

“Maybe you just haven’t had company conducive to efficiency.”

“Who talks like that?” you laugh. “Company conducive to efficiency.”

Remus smiles at you and sets his book down. “I’m just saying! Some people are more of a distraction while others let you do your thing. James and Sirius? Distractions. Peter… He goes back and forth between the two.”

“And I suppose you’re conducive for them.”

“Most of the time. Others, I’m as bad as they are.”

He picks his book back up to continue reading and you return to your essay. The library is silent except for the scratching of your quill and the occasional turning of pages by Remus. You sneak a few glances at him when you finish a sentence or a paragraph, and you catch yourself full on staring at him when you finish. As you put your work away, you clear your throat to get his attention.

“I suppose you being here was conducive, but I feel bad that you didn’t go to Hogsmeade.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. Sometimes I need a break from certain people.”

“Then let me make it up to you. Let’s go to Hogsmeade together tomorrow.” You pause and blush at what you just said. “If you want to, of course, and don’t have anything else planned. I just thought that, because you didn’t go today and tomorrow will be less busy since everyone goes today.” You feel yourself rambling which makes you blush harder.

“Yeah, okay. That’d be nice. Meet you in the Great Hall after breakfast? Or lunch? I’m really okay with either.”

“I’m not a morning person,” you say with a chuckle. “We could get lunch in Hogsmeade?”

“Oh, okay. Then meet by the Grand Entrance around noon?”

“Sounds like a plan, Lupin. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As you walk away from him, he can’t help but smile. This was going better than planned. He didn’t have to ask you out; you asked him. And all he had to do was not be forward about it with you. Now, he just had to work up to kissing you, and then snogging.

You’re more nervous than you expected to be in the morning. You had never been on a date before, and you weren’t even sure if this would count as one. Your roommates were confused as to why you didn’t go to Hogsmeade yesterday with them but were going today.

“It’s just backwards!” one had tried to explain when they heard of your plan. “Everyone goes to Hogsmeade on Saturday and does homework on Sunday!”

“Which leads to Hogsmeade being packed and then the library being packed. It makes sense to go today.”

You purposefully left out that you were meeting Remus and going with him. Just as he hadn’t told his friends that he was making progress with you. For now, until something proper came out of it, this Hogsmeade visit would be something you shared only with each other.

Remus is waiting for you when you finally leave your dorm. The walk to Hogsmeade is quiet. It’s not awkward though. You’re glad he’s not trying to force conversation. You fear that would be more uncomfortable.

“So where do you want to go first?” you ask as you arrive.

“I don’t mind as long as we hit up Honeydukes and Three Broomsticks at some point,” he says with a shrug.

You can’t help but think he looks a bit cute with his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Start at Three Broomsticks then? Get our lunch and go from there?” you suggest.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

As expected, the pub isn’t too busy. You find a table and order food and butterbeers from Rosmerta. Then it’s just the two of you at a table. He asks about your essay that you were working on yesterday and if you think Slughorn will like it. He talks about his own. Conversation covers a lot of school, but then it drifts to your friends and Quidditch. And then to the Marauders and their pranks. Time flies by so quickly. Your plates are emptied quickly and you go through several mugs of butterbeer. You only notice how much time has gone by you glance out the window by chance and the sun is lower in the sky than you had expected.

“Oh! We need to get going if you still want to go to Honeydukes.”

Remus looks to the window and nods. “I didn’t realize the time…”

He waves down Rosmerta and hands her some galleons. You smack his shoulder gently as you exit the pub together.

“You paid? I was the one who invited you to Hogsmeade. I should’ve paid.”

He rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t the guy on a date though?”

You blush, which in turn causes him to blush. So this was a date. And you had initiated.

“Let me pay for your chocolate at least.”

“Oh, don’t go down that road,” he says with a laugh and a wide smile. “You are underestimating how much chocolate I’ll be getting.”

“Galleons worth?”

“Galleons worth.”

“Remus Lupin! That cannot be healthy!”

“‘S not my fault my stash gets raided constantly.”

You laugh. The air is light between you. He really does get several galleons worth of chocolate; you thought he was kidding. You insist on paying for part of it. The owners of Honeydukes patiently wait for you to leave the store before locking the door behind you. The sun is set by the time you’re walking back to Hogwarts. The crescent moon is high in the night sky, bathing the path back to school in a pale light.

When you reach the castle, still standing outside, you say, “This was fun. I’m glad I got to go to Hogsmeade.”

“I’m glad I got to go with you.”

You feel your face heat. The romantic in you tells you, no, begs you to kiss his cheek. Tell him he’s why it was so fun. Talking over butterbeers was your favorite way to pass time and you really enjoyed getting to know him better. But you weren’t so bold.

“Goodnight Remus,” you say before heading inside.

He stood outside for a few minutes longer. He should have kissed your cheek. He was kicking himself for not doing so. But that might have been too bold and risked scaring you off. It was probably for the best that he didn’t. He needed to work up to it. The boys were waiting for him when he returned to his dorm.

“Where have you been all day?” James asks accusingly as soon as Remus walks through the door.

“None of your business, Mum,” Remus says, tossing the Honeydukes bag on his bed.

“Honeydukes?” Peter asks, sitting up. “You went to Hogsmeade? Just now?”

“You went to Hogsmeade without us?” James asks, putting two and two together.

“You went yesterday,” Remus reminds him.

“You chose to stay back. Why go today?”

“Because-” he starts to say.

“You’re working on the bet, aren’t you?” Sirius cuts him off. The smile Sirius was sporting said that he knew he was right.

“Yes.”

James and Peter gasp. Sirius grins wider.

“So you going to tell us how it’s going?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Peter asks with a pout forming on his face.

“You’ll just know when I succeed.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and laughs. “Must be going well if you’re still confident you’re going to succeed.”

---

“Andrew, for the love of Merlin, leave me alone,” you complain on your way to class.

Whatever the Marauders did to him at Hogsmeade wasn’t enough. He seemed more urgent than ever to take you on a date, even with you telling him that you weren’t interested in him in the slightest. He stands in the doorway to your class, which he isn’t in.

“Come on, just one date. It’ll be the best one you’ve ever been on!”

Remus looks up from his conversation with the boys at his desk at Andrew’s voice. He hears you groan.

“Let me into my class!”

Remus is there in a moment.

“Lark, let the lady through,” Remus says firmly.

Andrew spins around in the doorway, still blocking it but now looking at Remus.

“Little Lupin to the rescue? You fancy her or something?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Remus answers, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Now let her through. I think she’s made her opinions of you quite clear.”

Andrew glances at you over his shoulder.

“Hear that, dove? Lupin likes you.”

“I’d hope so. We went on a date.”

Andrew’s arms fall so he’s not blocking the door as well and Remus pulls you through, which makes Andrew stumble slightly out of the way.

“What do you mean you went on a date?” Andrew asks indignantly. “A date? An actual date? With him?”

“That’s what I said. Care to confirm?” you ask, looking up at Remus, who is still holding your arm.

“Yeah. It was quite lovely. She’s quite lovely.” He looks down at you with a soft smile.

Then without thinking, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. Andrew looks ready to scream and a few hollers erupt from behind you. You scan the room for the source. The Marauders. You’re not too surprised at that. Of course Remus’ friends would be watching him as he came to play hero. It’s less than thirty seconds, but by the time you look back over to the door, Andrew has vanished.

“Thanks, Remus,” you breathe.

“Maybe he’ll finally leave you alone, huh?”

“Hope so.”

He walks you to your desk before returning to his own, where James pats him enthusiastically on the back. Throughout the entire lesson, you two are looking over at each other. Most of the time, when one is looking, the other isn’t. You only make eye contact with him once all lesson, which caused both of you to turn a deep shade of crimson.

By the end of the week, Andrew stops asking you out on the daily and appears to be purposefully avoiding you and Remus. You find ways to spend more time with him, scheduling study time in the library and comparing schedules so that you can walk to your classes together. You even join him and his friends for lunch every few days. They were rather shocked the first time, but quickly turned into a welcoming group.

It became obvious to those around you that you were seeing Remus. It came as a surprise to many people, including your friends.

“What do you mean you’re dating Remus Lupin? When do you talk to him?”

“What do you mean you went to Hogsmeade with him? Alone?”

“When did this happen and why didn’t we know about it?”

Excuses of minding your own business and not wanting to count your chickens before they hatched echoed in your dorm. It really had come out of nowhere, but you suppose it was because Remus pursued you in a way that no one else had. He wasn’t putting you on the spot to do the things he wanted and disrupting you when you were clearly busy. He liked to be in your presence and took your opinion into consideration before suggesting things. Even better, he put Andrew Lark in his place.

You were headed to your usual table to meet Remus for a study session; you refused to call them study dates because you knew your mind would say that you can’t be productive on a date. You laugh at your thoughts: dates are not conducive for studying. You hear Remus’ voice as you walk through the shelves, collecting some books you know you need for your Herbology assignment. You stop mid-step when you hear additional voices at your table.

“Have you snogged her yet, Moony?” Sirius asks.

“No, not yet,” he answers with a sigh.

Not yet. You smile.

“Well, could you get on with it? You’ve been spending so much time with her. We need you for this prank.”

“You were the one to suggest the bet. Sorry I’m taking my time.”

“But you’re going to break up with her once you do, right?” Peter asks. “Complete the bet and get out before you catch feelings. That was the point of this.”

You bite your lip, hoping that somehow this wasn’t about you, that maybe Remus had a voice twin and they were talking about the other boy’s girl. You knew that it wasn’t possible, but you had to hope for a moment. But then James spoke.

“Even better, you got Lark off her back so she owes you. She owes you a snog and then you’re free. You’ll have gotten your kiss, Casanova.”

Lark. He had only been after you for a while. And Remus had been the reason he was leaving you alone.

You leave your hiding place within the books, stepping into their line of sight. Remus’ eyes go wide as he sees you. His heart breaks when he sees the tears in your eyes. You had heard and he knew it.

You lock eyes with him and you shake your head. Holding the books close to your chest, you turn to leave the library. How could you work with someone who was only with you to snog you for a bet? A damn bet?

You ignore Remus calling after you. You don’t break into a run; you have too many books in your arms to run, but you’re walking as quickly as you can. From the sound of his footsteps, he is running. Running and calling your name, saying it isn’t what you think. That the boys don’t know what they are talking about. You spin on the spot to glare at him through tears when he finally catches up to you and places a hand on your shoulder.

“Did you or did you not ask to sit at my table in the library because of, of, of that bet?” you spit. It comes out harsh. It was supposed to. You were angry and upset.

“I did, but-”

“There’s no buts about this, Remus,” you say firmly. You’re firm but your voice is laced with sadness and uncertainty. “All of this was because of a bet. And I’m not a bet. So yeah. Go fuck yourself.”

You leave him standing in the corridor. He could’ve followed you. Some part of him knew he should have so that he could explain.

---

You avoid Remus at all costs. He tries to hunt you down in the library, in between classes, in the Great Hall. He’s even taken to sitting outside your dorm. Your roommates step around him, muttering insults. He doesn’t blame them. If it had been anyone else doing this, he would be saying the same insults under his breath to Sirius, James and Peter. He hated himself for agreeing to the stupid bet in the first place. He should have just gone after you on his own terms.

About a week later, you spent all day studying in the library and you were honestly surprised that Remus didn’t show up once. You missed dinner, but you didn’t mind. If you had gone to dinner, you might have run into Remus and if you were safe in the library, you were staying there until you went to bed. Except you ran into Remus while trying to go to bed. He was asleep outside your dorm’s door. You knew you should’ve just gone into your dorm and ignored him, but you were a good person and wouldn’t let him sleep like that all night. You nudge his side gently with your foot.

“Lupin,” you say softly. “Lupin, wake up.”

He stirs, rubbing his eyes. When he sees that you’re the one who woke up and not some disgruntled prefect, he jumps to his feet and hugs you. You make a startled noise at the hug.

“Please, let me explain,” he whispers.

“You have five minutes. Then I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, thank you,” he says quickly. “Thank you. Okay, so yes, it did start as a bet.”

You groan and reach for the doorknob. He puts his hand on top of yours to stop it from turning.

“I have four minutes and thirty seconds,” he says, causing you to roll your eyes. “A bet that I couldn’t get a girl and snog her. I accepted because Sirius was being rude. Stupid, I know. But please, please, please believe me when I say the bet stopped being relevant the moment you agreed that I could keep you company in the library while you worked on your Potions essay. I wasn’t doing it just to snog you and prove to the boys that I really could get a girl.”

“And I should believe you because?”

“Because if it was just for a bet, I would’ve kissed you when we got back from Hogsmeade the first time. I would’ve snogged you in front of Andrew and the boys. Just to prove that I could do it. I would’ve been done.” He pauses, trying to read the expression on your face. “I’ve been spending so much time with you because I genuinely like you so much. I like being your boyfriend. I like being around you. I like making you smile. I like making you laugh. Yes, I’d like to snog you very much. But not for a bet. I want to snog you to feel your lips against mine. I like studying with you, I like paying for your butterbeers. I like walking around with you. I like when you hang out with my friends. I’d like to hang out with your friends.”

He pauses his ramblings to catch his breath briefly.

“That is, if you’ll forgive me for even partaking in this stupid goddamn bet. And you somehow convince your friends to forgive me too.”

You cross your arms and lean against the doorframe. You take in Remus’ appearance. You’re used to him looking perpetually tired, but he looks exhausted, so much worse for wear than usual. His hair is a mess and clothes uncharacteristically rumpled. His expression is so genuine and sad, practically begging you to understand how much he cares for you.

“Please. I know you’re more than a bet. So much more. The only good thing about the bet is that it actually got me to get close to you.”

“I’ll forgive you under one condition,” you say.

His face lights up and he takes a step toward you.

“Anything. You name it and it’s done.”

You smirk. “When you do snog me, please do it in front of Lark. A little revenge on that sorry bastard.”

Remus smiles widely and nods. Then he places a gentle kiss on your lips. It only lasts a second, over as soon as it began.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He gives you an identical kiss. “One snog in front of Lark coming up.”

#marauders fic #marauders #marauder-misprint #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #request #remus lupin

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tanadrin · 8 months ago

Note

could you elaborate, why do you believe that people online continue to talk about the flint water crisis as if it were still active? Is it just ignorance of the solution or are there ongoing health issues?

i mean i think people do that bc "everything is fucked and nothing ever gets better" is a genre of post that tickles the limbic system, and in the attention economy of the internet, anything that tickles the limbic system tends to do well, bc it produces engagement. outrage, and outrage-adjacent things, and cliches like "why is no one talking about [major news article everyone is talking about]" and "don't get excited about apparently-good-thing X, here's why it's actually just as bad as [completely different thing it is in no way just as bad as]" and all that other stuff.

and because negativity and outrage--even negativity with no underlying substance--makes a bigger splash than positive stuff with real underlying substance, continuing to repeat "flint doesn't have clean water" (a crisis that did genuinely drag on for a very long time!) has more salience than the news that flint's water problem was fixed (something that took a long time when it finally was properly tackled and didn't generate a single large headline).

there's kind of a similar dynamic in climate news actually, where genuine improvements in areas like energy storage and clean energy rollout and new nuclear permitting don't make a dent in people's narrative that everything is fucked and we're making no progress because IPCC forecasts about what would happen if we hit 4 degrees of warming are genuinely very bad and scary (and, thankfully, no longer on the table!), whereas the boring policy details of stuff in the Inflation Reduction Act, or China's continuing expansion of EV manufacturing are, well... boring. although climate news is different in other ways--like, the planet will continue to warm until carbon emissions are net negative, so even as we make progress on that issue the crisis continues. it's not all good news. but there is good news there, which just gets much less traction online bc of the dynamics of how news works on the internet.

needless to say, though, i think if you want to have an accurate understanding of the world you need to internally mentally check your own tendency to succumb to engagement bait like this. worst case scenario you fall into a doom loop, which i think is pretty unhealthy just in general. but if you notice somebody post something compelling, and you click on their username, and it turns out that all they post is about how the world is fucked, and nothing good ever happens, and we're all gonna die, i think you should be suspicious of them and their motives. not because doomposting is inherently manipulative or deceptive--a lot of people genuinely are doomers! but that doesn't mean they're not responding to the limbic incentives of social media, either. after all, if you too express nothing but pessimism and outrage, then the people addicted to pessimism and outrage will applaud you for being Very Serious and give you lots of engagement and attention, and you will react accordingly.

and also, you know. some people do just lie on the internet for attention. that is absolutely a thing that happens. i am not inclined to bend over backwards to try to reconstruct a generous framing of those lies where maybe people somehow are under the mistaken impression that there is some ongoing sub-problem affecting flint that they have mistaken for being isomorphic to the original crisis. some of them are just liars!

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xzaddyzanakinx · 1 year ago

Text

Study Buddy pt1

Stepdad!Anakin x femme reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: dubcon, dd/lg, PiV, unprotected sex, gen. smut, baby trapping, edging kinda?, manipulation, possessiveness, age-gap, stepcest, inappropriate relationship, praise kink, breeding kink, innocence/purity kink

Info: stepdad Anakin just adores his stepdaughter! It’s not his fault that she’s so fucking fine. Anakin is a perv but it’s okay cause he loves you, Anakin just wants the best for you! And the best for you is him, obviously. spoiled little naive brat reader but Anakin prefers you that way. Reader acts more innocent/naive than they really are. Reader is over 18

🕊 Dead dove do not eat 🕊

The one where you just need alittle extra incentive.

You sighed, taking your calculus homework into the living room. Handing Anakin the Pepsi he requested and sat down in the floor. Leaning back against the couch and setting the notebook down on the coffee table so you could get back to work.

"Good girl." He praised, his fingers brushing against your cheek from behind you. He took a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"What are you working on?" His eyes trailed downwards, lingering on your body for a moment, taking the opportunity to stare at the dimples in the small of your back. He was relaxed, shirtless and in his favorite pj pants with his socked feet kicked up on the coffee table next to you.

“Calculus homework.” You grumbled. “my brain is basically fried. This shit is driving me nuts.”

You pushed the notebook away in frustration and twirled the pencil between your fingers.

“Hey. Language.” He said gruffly. “Chill out, do you want help? I’m pretty alright at math.”

“Actually, yeah that would be great.” You nodded, grumbling in frustration.

Sometimes all you needed to understand something is to see it from a different angle, maybe Anakin, your step-dad could help with that.

"Alright, alright." He chuckled softly to himself before putting out his cigarette.

Standing up to stretch his arms above his head. The dark hairs leading to the waist of his pants exposed as his shirt rode up his abdomen. He knelt down so his face was level with yours. Reaching out, he took the notebook from you and scanned the pages.

"Hmm... huh... well, let's start here," he said, pointing to a problem written in your neat handwriting. Grunting as he sat down next to you, his arms resting on his knees.

After solving the equation he helped with the next question, and you were finally starting to get the hang of it. He gave you a kiss on the cheek as a reward, a soft one that made you smile, one that said ‘I’m so proud of you!’. For the next one you got right it was an unexpected but smooth kiss to your lips.

“Daddy.” You whispered in shock at his real kiss. “We’re not supposed to do that!”

Anakin’s gaze softened as he pulled you into a comforting hug.

“Aw sweet girl, I’m sorry. I should’ve explained myself first.” He sighed.

“This is real hard work isn’t it?” He asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah it is.” You nodded.

He laughed a little. “And what do I always say when you do hard work?”

“You always tell me hard work deserves big rewards.” You grinned, thinking of all the times he’d taken you out to your favorite restaurant, to see a new movie, to buy you new things.

But your favorite rewards and treats were the ones he got you on his way home from work. Sometimes when he felt like you needed a little pick-me up, he’d stop at the store and get you a box of candy or one of those tiny little cutesy squishmallows that come in the surprise eggs.

He smiled, giving you a light squeeze just above the knee. “Exactly!”

“I’ve found a much better way to reward you my sweet girl.” He spoke in a cheerful tone in an attempt to make you smile and it was working effortlessly. “Somethin’ real special that I think you will love.”

“And it’s kisses?” You said, tilting your head to the side.

“Sometimes kisses, sometimes not.” He said, giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“Well what’s the sometimes not?” You asked excitedly, what could possibly be better than kisses?

“Oh come on now.” He teased. “Treats and rewards are always better as surprises aren’t they?”

“Yeah you’re right.” You giggled.

“That's better," he cooed, satisfied by your reaction.

“Now come here, let's continue our 'lesson.'" With a gentle tug, he pulled you into the empty space between his legs, scooting your back toward him enough that he could easily rest his chin on your shoulder to watch you work.

He placed the notebook back on the coffee table and leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your neck as he spoke.

“So, how about we start with some stuff you already know? Something simple to ease us back into things?" He traced slow circles on your exposed lower back with his thumb, his fingers pressing gently into the flesh of your stomach as his massive hand rested on your side.

"O-okay..." You stuttered, unable to ignore the sudden warmth spreading throughout your body.

“Alright.” He nodded, flipping through the text book until he reached the previous chapter you had been working on in class. He wrote out some equations for you to solve and quickly worked them out himself on his phone calculator before typing the answers in his notes app and telling you to get started.

Each step in the equation that you did correctly Anakin would press a tiny little barely there kiss to your shoulder.

“You’re doing real good doll-face.” He praised you quietly with his cheek pressed against yours and couldn’t help but smile when you felt him do the same.

“Just keep working hard and I’ll help when you need me to. But right now, try to work them out yourself and I’ll keep giving you sweet little reward kisses!” He said happily.

“Okay Daddy.” You smiled, leaning back against his chest and setting out to work on the next question.

He chuckled softly, pleased with your progress and willingness to please. As you finished each equation, he would whisper sweet words of encouragement followed by little kisses along your neck and shoulders. He even nibbled your earlobe a few times, which you quickly discovered had that strange butterfly effect in your tummy as well.

"Good girl, good girl," he murmured approvingly as your confidence in your work grew. "You're doing great, keep it up."

“Alright, now I’m gonna make you some new ones, they’re gonna be harder alright? Once we get these down, I’ll set up some more difficult ones and then you can try to ones you were assigned for homework. They’ll seem easy after you’ve worked so hard on these other ones!” Anakin explained as he began writing out new equations for you to solve.

He took great care in making sure to double check the answers to ensure he’d be able to properly tutor you.

After getting the first more advanced one finished correctly, Anakin started his plan to give you a new reward.

“Look at you princess, you’re doing so well!” His voice flowing soothingly as he switched from sweet chaste kisses to nibbling and sucking on your neck.

You gasped, in a state of awe at the way he could turn those chaste kisses into something warm and wet and lingering. Those silky soft lips momentarily destroying your ability to think freely.

While you were distracted, he took the opportunity to sweeten the pot. One of his calloused hands defied any pre-conceived notions that one might associate with such an attribute. One might expect a man with hands like Anakin’s; large rough palms, long fingers, overall strong and veiny, to be brutish or rough.

Though it seemed he was naturally the direct opposite. One of those big strong hands slid from it’s resting place to slip beneath the hem of your shirt. Splaying those long fingers across the expanse of your lower abdomen, pressing gently, just enough to properly feel each breath you took from the rise and fall of your tummy.

After a moment of savoring this intimacy Anakin brought that same hand up over the fabric of your shirt once more. A slow ascent to cup your breast, remaining motionless despite the twitch of his finger that exposed his want for more than a simple touch.

After the next correct answer he finally allowed that eager twitch to bloom into small deliberate circles around your nipple. Sparingly brushing his thumb over the hardened nub in order to properly appreciate and enjoy the helpless whimper that escaped your lips each time.

“Next question?” You asked quietly, Anakin only mumbling a ‘yes’ against your skin as he kept up his slow sensual neck and shoulder kisses paired with both of his now hands softly massaging your breasts and nipples. The added squeeze of his palm was almost soothing. As though he aimed to tame the warming embers of desire that lay dormant beneath your skin.

"Atta girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.

"Now, let's try this one." He observed attentively while you struggled to focus on the task at hand.

He chuckled at the way you squirmed every so often and relented, now guiding you through each step while his hands continued their teasing exploration of your body.

"Almost there, I believe in you sweetheart." Somehow his words felt like the rays of afternoon summer sun that shone through the curtains. You imagined that this must be the equivalent to how your cat feels when he bathes in those rays.

“Well babydoll, this is how we’ll do your homework from now on! You’re doing so so good!” He praised you, reluctantly removing his hands from your breasts.

“You deserve alittle brain break okay?” He said, guiding your head to turn with one finger on your jaw.

Before you could speak Anakin slotted his lips against yours. His tongue swiping lightly across your bottom lip, a slight up turn of his mouth when you gasped. He gently, slowly probed your mouth with his tongue; savoring the unique flavor of you.

‘Raspberry tea and honey, yes, that’s it. That’s what she tastes like.’ He decided, locking that information away into the corner of his mind that was reserved for you. Though that corner was becoming much like the chair in the corner of your room that overflowed with clothes. A few more things stacked on top would topple the precarious pile, spilling all things you into every crack and crevice of his conscience.

Meanwhile you were currently short circuiting. The onslaught of completely foreign sensations he’d provided you with was beginning to quite literally fry your brain. You felt warm, mushy, like your brain was goo and your body was clay, ready and willing to be molded to Anakin in whatever new ways he saw fit.

He pulled back, a wide toothy grin taking over when he saw the glaze that had taken over your eyes. Those beautiful eyes, their rich color stolen away by the deep black of your pupil.

“See? You needed that huh?” He cooed, running his thumb down your jaw while we waited patiently for you to collect yourself enough to respond.

“Uh… uh huh.” You nodded slowly, your cheeks flushed and your throat feeling tight as stoked those ember-coals within you, now burning to form a red hot flame.

“Can I try something pretty girl?” He asked in that seductive whisper.

“Oh, ‘course daddy.” You breathed out, of course you’d let him. You’d let him do anything if it meant you could have more of this.

“Thank you baby.” He whispered as he gently rolled the hem of your shirt up, guiding it up and over your head.

You whimpered, the cool air hitting your burning hot flesh making a cold shiver travel up your spine. You swear you heard a little moan coming from Anakin when he finally caught a glimpse of your bare back, and you were positive you heard one when he reached around once more to massage your breasts and toy with your nipples; he was so incredibly grateful to be rid of that pesky fabric barrier, and even more grateful that you never wore a bra at home.

He squeezed and pulled your nipples gently rolling them between his fore finger and thumb. The feeling was good, warm, and tingly; somehow even better than before. Inwardly you wanted to smack him for not taking off your shirt sooner.

A low moan left your lips Anakin reacting with a light chuckle and a sloppy kiss to the under side of your jaw.

“That's it, you're doing great," He praised, his voice dripping with pride; pride at how well you were responding to him.

He was proud of the you he was slowly bringing to the surface. Teasing the little minx that hid behind your innocence, he knew it was waiting for him. Ready for him to capture and keep it, to train it to feed from his palm.

"Now, let's try this one." He suggested, showing you another equation.

Now his fingers trailed slowly down your stomach towards the top of your shorts. He paused just above them, to follow the curve of the elastic cotton waistband with featherlight fingertips.

"This one might be a bit trickier, but remember, I believe in you." He cooed.

“Okay daddy.” You nodded, breathing heavier. “If you think I can do it.”

“I do princess.” *He reassured you.

Anakin's touch became increasingly bold, his fingers making their way to your inner thighs. Leaving tingling sensation to form between your legs, you jolted for a moment, that single flame of desire growing, burning hotter and hotter.

“Lift up sweetheart.” He whispered.

“M’kay.” You squeaked, your voice feeling small.

He gently removed your shorts, a satisfied hum rumbled in his chest when you sat back down and his hand returned to its rightful place between your thighs.

His teasing touch, the torturously gentle tracing of the edges of your panties making your wetness seep through the thin material of your underwear. He continued to stimulate your nipples, and switched to the opposite side of your neck, while he changed tactics on your lower half. Two fingers pressing lightly against that dampened cotton, massaging slowly, making you squirm slightly in response.

“Oh no, is that uncomfy?” He asked gently, concern in his tone.

“Yes,” You whimpered. “all tingly.”

“It won’t be for long alright princess? Daddy’s right here to help.” He promised, his lips against your ear lobe.

“But-“ You started, wanting to complain. Wanting to ask for more; more of what? Good question and only Anakin had that answer.

He tsks, shaking his head slightly. “Finish this one up sweetheart.”

You whined in response and huffed at not getting your way. But followed instructions regardless because Anakin was always right, he was always here to help, always here to guide you, and always gave in to your wants eventually. He couldn’t stand to tell you no, he just couldn’t do it. It was like it physically pained him to see your bottom lip in a pout.

He signed and applied alittle more pressure to encourage you to get back to your work.

A few agonizing minutes later he confirmed your answer was correct, resulting in your excited and eager reaction. You turned slightly to look back at Anakin expectantly,

He grinned, rolling his eyes. He knew exactly what you were doing, you were waiting for him to deal the next card in your new game.

"Perfect job darlin’ you got it on the first try!” He praised, nuzzling into your hair to smell the warm vanilla scent of it.

He tapped your thigh and you instinctively lifted your legs up. He cooed, soothing words while slipping your panties off and lifting you into his lap. Your wet pussy pressed against the large bulge in his pants, those two fingers slipping past your pussy lips. He coated his digits in your slick, dragging them back and forth, up and down your slit.

“Is that right? Did I do that one? I feel like it’s n-not right.” You asked him for help, and when he confirmed it was correct he dipped the very tip of his middle finger in between your soaking wet folds.

“That's right, baby girl." His voice was low and husky, though alittle richer, perhaps it could be described better as darker.

"Now let's try this one together." With a slow motion, he inserted his middle finger into you fully. As you struggled with keeping your sanity, trying to hold a pencil, and trying not to cry from the overwhelming urge for more, Anakin was merely breathing heavily. Occasionally grunting as your cunt fluttered around his finger, his cock throbbing against you.

"How does that feel?" He asked, his tone dripping with satisfaction at watching you squirm and writhe under his touch.

“I- I like it daddy. It feels good.” You whined, feeling him add a second finger and stretching you a bit. It burned, but in a good way.

“That’s right baby.” Anakin nodded. “It’s supposed to feel good, and I’ll make it even better after we get alllll this silly homework done okay?”

Anakin said as you bucked lightly against his palm, chuckling when he heard a low moan escape your lips as he curled his fingers and pushed them in slowly, dragging them back out even slower. The snail’s pace was tolerable, a thousand times more satisfactory compared to his mean and teasing touches before, though they still continually added to that growing fire pit of yours.

“That's it, baby girl." He praised, adding another finger to stretch you even more.

“Daddy.” You hissed, sucking air through your teeth.

“I know darlin’ it’s okay.” He soothed. “Just sit real still.”

You sniffled, accidentally wiggling a bit too much. “S’hurting daddy.”

He began to thrust his three long digits slowly in and out of you, his hips rocking rhythmically in time with his hands movements.

“Shhh. My little princess." Anakin's voice was filled with sympathy, his fingers moving slower inside you. His thumb starting to rub circles on your sensitive nub. “Daddy’s here, just trust me.”

Your furrowed eyebrows slowly turned into an upward swoop, your anxious lip biting coming to a halt as your jaw dropped open in a silent moan.

“That’s better isn’t it doll?” Anakin asked, a low hum reverberating from him after you responded with a rapid head nod and an experimental roll of your hips.

“Much better.” You breathed out a sigh of relief, his fingers starting up that slow pace again. His thumb flicking back and forth across your puffy little clit.

“This calculus is real hard huh?” He said.

“Yeah it is.” You mumbled, meaning to sound angry, but it really just sounded like a plea.

“Gimme your hand babydoll.” He softly commands.

You let him take your hand and guide it behind you, helping you wrap your delicate fingers around the rock hard bulge in his pants.

“Daddy…” You moaned as your body responded to the feel of his cock in your hand.

“Do you know what a cock is? What it looks like? What it’s for?” He asked slowly and you giggled, nodding in response to his questions.

“Have you ever touched one?” You vehemently said no absolutely not.

“Well daddy is gonna pull out his cock, and help you settle down on it alright? We’ll go real slow and gentle; you tell me immediately if you want me to stop okay?” He explained while softly gliding his hand through your hair, while continuing his slow exploration of the warm, gummy walls of your cunt.

“Can I see?” You asked timidly.

“Of course doll. You can touch it too if you want.” He said softly, removing his fingers from your tight hole.

He took a minute to admire the creamy slick gathered on his digits before offering you one of his fingers.

“Do you wanna know what you taste like?” His voice dark and almost sinister.

You didn’t answer, just parted your lips and let the tip of your tongue hang out. He smirked and slipped his index finger past your lips and rubbed it on your tongue. Your nose scrunched up for a moment, the taste unfamiliar and strange, but it was easy to get used to.

He chuckled, removing it so that he could properly clean each finger with his lips and tongue. Sucking each digit thoroughly, moaning with his eyes fluttering closed at the first taste.

“So sweet.” He whispered.

“Hop up and turn around for me sweetheart.” He said, pinching your ass cheek playfully, just hard enough to make you yelp.

You did as requested and settled back on his thighs. His face was just as red as yours felt. His pupils dilated beyond belief, his bare chest had a thin sheen of sweat. His plump bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he finally got a good look at you.

He had wanted to wait. To wait until he couldn’t stand it any longer. The teasing was for him just as much as it was for you. The reward of such a long and torturous game was well and wholly worth it. To finally see you like this. Flushed and wanton, needy for his cock.

Those tits. God those fucking tits… he moaned cupping them in his hands again. They were beautiful when he could see them from behind you, looking down at them from over your shoulder. But up close and in his face? Stunning. Absolutely breathtakingly stunning.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered, entranced temporarily before he snapped out of it and realized this was not one of his sick and twisted dreams.

Oh and how he had dreamed. Night after night, waking up and having to palm his cock roughly just to get enough relief to go back to sleep, only to wake up the next morning and spend half his time in the shower fucking his fist and desperately wishing it were your tight little cunt.

This was real. He had you, completely naked, drooling and sopping wet, putty in his hands.

“Daddy is gonna make you feel so so good after your homework is done.” He smiled, dreamy and spaced out.

“Pull out my cock baby.” He encouraged, taking your wrists in each hand and helping you pull his pants and boxers down his thighs.

Anakin's cock sprang free from his pants, standing erect and proud before your wide eyes. It was thick and veiny, slightly curved upward towards his belly button.

“Ani…” You whimpered worried about what to do, how to properly do this, if you should do this. You wanted to, needed to. But should you?

“What’re you thinking doll?” Anakin asked, his hands on either side of you running his knuckles up and down your tummy soothingly.

“Am I gonna get in trouble?” You whispered.

“What?” He asked, in confusion. “Why would you get in trouble sweetheart?”

“Well, ‘cause of this…” You mumbled.

“Babydoll.” He cooed, his thumb and forefinger pinching your chin and tilting your head back so he could look directly in your eyes. “You won’t be in trouble. I’m your stepfather right?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded.

“So that means I get to help make the rules around here doesn’t it?” He said soothingly, cupping your cheek.

“Yeah.” You nodded, a small smile beginning to form on your lips. You were beginning to see his reasoning and justification clearly.

“So it would be silly for you to get in trouble for something I said was okay wouldn’t it?” He smiled softly.

You giggled, nodding. Happy that he answered your question, amazed as always that he was so easily able to wash away your worries and concerns.

“There’s my little princess.” He cooed, rubbing his nose against yours. “Are you ready now?”

“Yes Ani.” You nodded with a smile, kneeling over his dick.

His large hand grabbing the base, holding his visibly throbbing cock steady as he slowly pushed the head against your tight entrance.

"Just relax, baby doll," He whispered in your ear, his other hand gripping your waist tightly to help guide you down his length. "Just breathe in and out slowly."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you put your arms around his neck and took comfort in the way he took control and made you feel safe even when you were so vulnerable in his arms. You were trusting him with a lot right now, the most intimate and sacred side of yourself.

“Anakin… oh gods.” You gasped in pain as he pushed in farther. He rolled his hips gently, popping your hymen, groaning when he felt that precious little thing snap.

“Shhh it’s okay, I won’t move anymore for now.” He held your hips firmly in place, allowing you to bury your face in his neck in an attempt to steady your breath as he did the same.

Your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock as he shifted, making you wince in dull pain and Anakin grunt in pleasure at the constricting tightness.

"That's a good girl," He praised, his voice hoarse as he forced himself to maintain control. "You're doing great, just relax."

His hands moved down from your hips to squeeze and support your ass cheeks. Leaning in for a kiss, letting out a questioning hum as he ever so slowly started lowering you again. You nodded, letting him know it was okay despite the prickly sensation of tears forming in your eyes.

You focused on his tongue, on his hands, on the racing of his heart beneath your palm.

"Let me know if you need me stop, okay?" He broke the kiss to lovingly ask. “I don’t want to hurt you sweetheart.”

“I will Ani.” You promised, nodded vigorously as he slowly, steadily impaled you on his cock.

“Jesus.” Anakin whined, breathy and strained as he finally bottomed out. Buried to the hilt, feeling comforted in know that you would soon adjust to his size, and he wouldn’t be hurting your poor little weeping pussy anymore.

He hated to see you in pain, and knowing he was the cause was really, really killing him. It was inevitable of course. You were gonna end up speared on his dick sooner or later, and while he was thrilled that it was sooner, he just wishes he could’ve found a way to make it alittle easier on you.

“Be real still, just relax, get used to the feeling doll.” He cooed, soothing hands running up and down your spine.

“Yes Ani.” You whined, thankful for the chance to adjust to feeling so… full.

"Now, let's finish these final problems together, okay?" He said, his voice huskier than usual as he picked up the paper with the remaining equations. “Get your mind off the hurt okay?”

You held the notebook and kept working on one of the equations while Anakin latched on to your nipples and bit down gently.

“Ah!” You yelped, wincing as his bite made you jolt, your cunt squeezing his cock. “Anakin!”

He chuckled kissing your neck and massaging your ass cheeks. “Sorry baby.”

"You know, you're doing really well," he said, his voice full of satisfaction. "I'm impressed with how quickly you've learned it all. This is definitely going to be the way I help you study from now on." Anakin smiled, kissing you softly.

“Almost done.” You whined, scribbling frantically on the page. Trying your best to sit still.

“Baby.” Anakin growled. “Stop wiggling unless you want me to start training you to hold this big fucking cock in your tight little cunt all damn day.”

“Sorry daddy! Didn’t mean too!” You sniffled. “just feels so full, I need to move.” You whimpered, biting your lip.

You were getting impatient with waiting and sick of this stupid math homework and really, really, really impatient for Anakin to help you fuck yourself on his cock.

"Alright, alright." He chuckled, slowly lifting you a little before thrusting up in again.

You sat there, spread out wide on your step daddy’s massive cock. His callous fingers rubbing tight circles on your poor little clit as he fucked you so, so slowly to stop your wriggling and squirming.

“You’re a real good teacher Ani.” You moaned, finishing up the last equation and fighting the urge to moan and cum right then and there just from that tiny bit of relief. “All done.”

Anakin's eyes lit up at your words of praise, his cock twitching inside you in response.

"That's my good girl! So smart." He praised, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in with more strength than before.

His hands gripped your ass firmly and lifted you up and down his cock until you got the hang of the movement. Slowly picking up the pace once you started a low string of moans that Anakin’s hungry mouth swallowed up in a kiss.

“Reach down and play with your clit while you bounce on my cock.” He ordered.

“yes daddy.” You squeaked in response, whining in relief as you started circling your neglected clit.

“That's it, baby girl." Anakin groaned, his hips moving faster as you found your rhythm.

"You're so fucking good at this.” He praised, his head falling back on the couch cushion.

As you got more confident in your movements he started to meet you halfway with his own thrusts, his cock hitting your G-spot relentlessly, you could feel your orgasm building up rapidly. Your moans turned into high-pitched whimpers of pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders that you gripped tightly for balance.

“I knew you’d be good,” He moaned. “your body is made for me, it’s perfect. So fuckin’ perfect.”

“Y-yeah daddy.” You whispered on the verge of orgasm. “M’feeling something.”

“Fuck. Th-that’s right doll, I told you I’d make you feel good didn’t I?” He moaned, his voice dark with possessiveness.

Anakin growled low in his throat, his grip on your asscheeks tightening almost painfully. He bit down hard on your neck, leaving a mark as evidence of your sinful affair.

"You're about to cum. That’s what that feeling is darlin’ don’t fight it, just let go." He panted between erratic thrusts, his breath hot against your throat. “Once I make you cum it means you’re mine and mine only. Do you want that?”

“Yes daddy.” You agreed, slurring your words as your body tensed up. “I wanna be only yours.” You were practically drooling as you came violently around his cock, flooding his lap with your juices.

Anakin groaned loudly, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. The intensity of the fact that he’d given you your first orgasm, that he’d properly and officially earned your virginity, made him feral. His cock twitched and pulsed inside you, releasing wave after wave of hot seed into your tight channel.

“God damn,” he hissed out. “such a good girl, letting me fuck this pretty little pussy full of my cum.”

You whined at his praise, grinding down on his cock when you felt the strange but good sensation of stickiness coat your walls.

"Fuck, baby doll." He panted heavily, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he rode out his own climax. "God you just made me cum s-so fuckin’ hard.”

He stilled his movements and yours to catch his breath, nuzzling your neck and holding you close as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. He pulled back after a moment, looking down at your disheveled state, he grinned widely, licking his lips in satisfaction.

“Did I do good?” You asked with a wobbly lip. Feeling overwhelmed by your senses, overstimulated to the point of tears. “did I make you happy and proud daddy?”

“Oh, you did more than just make me happy and proud, baby girl." Anakin's eyes glittered with something dark, something… a little scary as he gazed down at you.

“You’re gonna make me a fine little baby momma too.” He growled, his hand reaching out to trace gentle circles on your stomach. “Aren’t you?”

Part Two (final part)

Tag-List:

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#star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars #anakin x you #sw anakin #darth vader #darth vader smut #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader #stepdad!anakin

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chiakeys · 1 month ago

Text

rafayel drabble — first "i love you"

˚꩜˖°⋆🐚‧₊˚ ⋅🌊｡𖦹°‧

A lazy day at the beach was not all uncommon with Rafayel. They'd become more frequent lately, even, the longer the two of you spent your days together. At first there would be a plan— an incentive, always, behind Rafayel's invitations. I got two tickets to this event, or I need a fresh perspective on this painting, always something to demand your presence.

In the beginning, it was as if he felt he needed to lure you to come see him. You were grateful for the excuse, at least.

The soft peach streaks of the sky have long since faded into the dark blanket of the night surrounding you now.

"We've come a long way," you speak into the night. The blanket beneath you is cushioned by the sand, and your gaze stays lazily fixed onto the stars above. Rafayel is in your periphery, sitting up still, looking at the sea and you and not even bothering with the stars. His head turns your way now.

"A long way from what?" He asks, voice softer than usual. Maybe he doesn't want to speak over the crashing of the waves. "We're not that far from my house, cutie."

"A long way from you making up reasons for me to come hang out." You smile, gaze finally breaking away from the stars. "Now you can just demand I come see you, to spend my whole day doing nothing at the beach."

Rafayel gasps with flair. His pout kicks in immediately. "Hey now, it's not hanging out when we're dating. They're dates! Romantic dates!"

"Is this a romantic date?" You ask, trying hard to keep your smile from spreading too wide. You gesture around the empty beach with a lazy wave. "We've been here forever, Rafayel, I'm hungry and cold."

Now it's your turn to pout, so you gaze up at Rafayel with the most pathetic look you can muster.

"I— You—" Rafayel crosses his arms, sniffing slightly. "I give you a relaxing break for a whole day, and you just sit here and complain. That's so..."

He trails off, eyes narrowing at your arm. His hand darts out to grab at your wrist, lifting it straight up to the front of his eyes.

"What? You are cold. You have goosebumps! You should've told me earlier," Rafayel pouts. "Here, let me help."

He takes your hand in between his palms, and brings it up to his lips, breathing hot air onto your hand. The proximity, his direct stare, the heat of his breath directly on your skin— something there makes your stomach roll over, and you look away, towards the darkness.

"Hey now, don't look away."

The distribution of the sand beneath you shifts as Rafayel drops your wrist and moves closer. Arms appear on both sides of your head, caging you in, and your eyes drag over the shapes of his muscles before meeting his gaze above you.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, before he brings his hand towards your face, gently cupping the side of your face, thumb brushing against your cheek. "Even your face is cold." He leans in now, gaze heavy. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Well..." You speak quietly. "You were having a good time, weren't you?"

Rafayel sighs, and you can feel it slightly, when he's this close— or maybe you're just imagining it, desperate for more of him.

"I would have a good time with you anywhere. We could've gone back home hours ago, y'know." His thumb strokes against your cheek, back and forth.

You can't help the slight curl of your lips. "Yeah? You're saying if I had just jumped up and demanded to leave, you would've just gone? No complaints, nothing?"

Rafayel hums. "I don't know about nothing, but of course I would've left."

He continues, his thumb poking your cheek. "Of course I'd follow you— I love you."

You freeze, heart beating hard. Like a drum, or thunder. Your lips open to reply. You forget what to say. You forget how to speak. He hasn't said that before. You haven't, either. Not out loud. You didn't expect him to say it so easily.

He watches you with gentle patience. Until you can swallow and try to talk again. You can't help but ask, "You do?"

Rafayel's head tilts slightly, lips quirked. "Yeah. Wasn't it obvious?"

The waves crash against the shore right alongside your next inhale. In, and out. The light shines only slightly against the features of his face. A sudden raw affection envelops you. You reach up to smooth out the front of his shirt.

"I guess so." You finally say, soft.

Rafayel pinches your cheek, then, his brows furrowing. The small sting makes you jolt. "What, are you just gonna leave me hanging now? Don't you know you're supposed to say it back?"

You grin— "Do I have to? Isn't it obvious?"

Rafayel groans, head dropping to the curve of your neck, yet still careful not to drop all of his weight on you. You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and out of you.

Laughing still, you trail your hand around to the nape of his neck, scratching gently. "I love you too, Rafayel. Obviously."

He starts to laugh too, directly against your skin, burrowing his own head even closer, until his response is muffled. "Obviously?"

You smile, warm and happy. "Obviously."

#my mc is a little different from canon mc sorry lol #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #lads x reader #fluff #rafayel fluff #& mine

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yanderefarm · 5 months ago

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Can I request Ares finding out our co workers calls themselves or work wife/ other people calling them that (I hope this make sense)

yandere housewife ares

cw;; yandere tendencies

unfortunately no hot wife covered in blood this time.

ares is one of the most violent ones maybe even more violent than emil. he's just already showed you his violent side. you can't convince him to spare everyone but if you're really just friends with your "work wife" he can spare her. he just fixes it by giving her incentive to quit instead.

y/n: how do you make your voice do that.

ares: do what?

y/n: red.

ares: i don't know what you mean honey

ares overhead it when he came to your work one day. one of the line cooks said your wifey needed you to take some plates to table 5. he knew they sure as hell weren't talking about him. a familiar feeling washed over him, it was like all he saw was red. he left without ordering.

when you got home you asked him why he left without atleast having a drink. he didn't answer that, his eyes distant and cold and his lips were in an uncharacteristic frown. you figured he was just having a bad day so you fixed some leftovers for dinner for both of you.

it was over the reheated chicken parm that he finally said something after having poked his chicken into shreds. why is it always chicken parm.

"who's your wifey?" his tone was frightening and it brought up painful flashbacks.

you couldn't breathe. your hands were shaking. and the question hung in the air with the only sound afterwards being the jitter of your fork against your plate.

"...i'm not upset with you." he clearly noticed that he had freaked you out. he reached out a hand and covered one of yours with it.

"please." your voice was strained as you forced yourself to speak.

ares opened his mouth to speak before closing it again. he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down more. "its ok honey. im sorry i upset you."

there were tears in your eyes and your voice was barely above a choked whisper. "don't hurt her. please."

so there was someone. "i won't-"

"promise."

"... if i promise will you tell me more about her?"

you nodded rapidly.

"i promise i won't hurt her."

despite the promise you didn't immediately start speaking, clearly still shaken up. ares's heart hurt to see you like this, to think you were so scared of him. he pushed away the thoughts of this other woman and how much she must mean to you. well he did the best he could. he still bent his fork in his hand. he decided to get up and make you a cup of chamomile tea. the act of taking care of you always helped him calm down.

it wasn't until you were both sat on the couch, your head in his lap while he played with your hair, you finally spoke.

"its a joke among my coworkers. i'm always helping her with her tables and i cover her shifts when she needs a day off. so they just... started calling her my work wife." your voice was raw and broken like you were trying to hold back tears.

"... who is she?" ares tried to keep himself calm but he couldn't help the edge in his voice.

"her name is thena... she's my friend. just my friend." you turned on your back to look up at him.

"you've never mentioned her before." he cupped your cheek.

"i... i was worried you would get jealous. you-you're kinda intense honey." you reached up to cup his face in turn.

ares pouted a bit but he couldn't deny that you were right. even now it was hard to keep himself calm. he leaned down to give you a chaste kiss.

"I'll just get her fired."

"honey, no."

#top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #yandere ideas #yandere x male reader #replies #yandere oc #yandere housewife #sub yandere

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man-i-love-fanfiction · 4 months ago

Text

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter One: Blue Hydrangeas- Gratitude

Summary: Your job as a florist has been the highlight of your day for years. It becomes even more exciting when a certain new customer becomes a regular.

Word Count: 2286

Author's Note: Hey guys! My first multi-chapter fic, i'm so excited!!! i don't have a strict posting schedule, but I won't go more than two weeks without an update. please bear with me here because I have no idea what it's like to be a florist. I hope you all enjoy!!

p.s. special shoutout again to @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading, i can't thank you enough!

fic below the cut :)

You were a part of the small minority of people who actually loved their job.

The concept of this was strange to most people — strangers making small talk, men asking introductory questions on dates, even your own parents. Maybe because it wasn’t exactly a career; more so a job that someone has as a way to make rent while getting their degree, which is how you originally began to work at Earth's Laughter Florists. College had been years ago for you now, and yet you stayed behind the counter, making bouquets for customers with a genuine smile on your face. It got to the point that when the old owner decided it was time to retire, she chose you to take over. Of course, you immediately accepted; this job was the best part of your day. While all of your friends were going insane with their office jobs, you… admittedly still went insane from time to time, just in a much prettier workplace.

You had even taken it upon yourself to learn flower language: different types of flowers having different symbolic meanings. It was almost like extra credit. It gave you a new challenge of arranging flowers while keeping both color and symbolism in mind, and helped you create bouquets and arrangements with more meaning. This, in turn, gave your customers a new incentive to buy different flowers for different occasions based on what they meant. More business for you, more smiles on people's faces, and more money in your pocket. Everyone wins.

Another benefit of the job — your favorite part — was that it gave you small glimpses into the lives of other people. Flowers had a multiplicity of sorts. They were so versatile that people bought from you for almost every occasion. Weddings, funerals, birthdays, dance recitals, you name it. It made you more appreciative of others. Every day was a new insight into whatever your customers had going on. And today was no exception.

You arrived an hour before the store opened, as usual. You went into the back and threw on your apron, adjusting your name tag. Thoughts of everything you had to do before opening ran through your head, and you quickly began to busy yourself with everything from giving some flowers new vases of water to following up on an order for a wedding. Your two coworkers came in around a half an hour after your arrival, donning their aprons, saying their hellos, and also beginning their day. When the time finally came, you flipped around the sign hanging from the door, telling everyone outside you were open. You stood behind the counter and waited.

And waited.

One of the only downsides of your job was that it required a lot of patience.

It's not like you were just staring at the clock, biding your time until a customer entered. You still had work to get done, mostly tying up loose ends from what you didn't finish before. Your coworkers were occupied with a tall order of arrangements, so they stuck to the back, with the occasional popping in to ask if you needed assistance. Politely, you declined.

Mundane was the word that kept repeating itself in your head as you did your odd jobs around the store. Not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, mundane meant nothing horrible was occurring (even though it meant nothing was occurring). Of course, mundane never does last long.

You had just finished creating an arrangement to put on display when your first customer of the day walked in.

The bell above the door rang, and you quickly walked back over to where you were supposed to be standing, not even bothering to see who had walked in until you were behind the counter.

The first thing you noticed was that he was taller than you had expected, with long brown curls that fell down to his shoulders. His outfit, a black turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, and black jeans, was the right mix of formal and casual; you could tell he had somewhere to be, but with people that wouldn't mind if he laughed a little too loudly.

To top it all off, he was handsome. You couldn't pull your gaze from him if you tried.

He walked forward, slowly looking around at all the flowers on display until his gaze locked onto you. He broke the silence between you.

“Hello. I need some flowers.”

You maintained your composure and brushed off your previous thoughts. You started your usual routine, asking him the same questions to get to know the situation (and him) better.

“What's the occasion?”

“It's my mum’s birthday.”

“Does she have a favorite flower?” You asked. He replied with no hesitation.

“She loves hydrangeas. Blue hydrangeas. She always has.”

His immediate answer brought a small smile to your face. You nodded intently and began to think of all the possible combinations of flowers that would work well.

“You're specific. I like that. That makes my job easier. Usually guys say something like ‘I don't know’ or ‘the purple ones’ or just ‘roses’. It's like some people don't even pay attention.”

“Well, that's all I know how to do.”

“A blessing and a curse, I imagine.”

“More of a blessing, believe it or not.”

“I have a similar blessing, though it seems to be laser-focused on plants of all things.” You joked. “Speaking of plants, let me start on your bouquet.”

You left your spot, walking over to the wall of flowers on display for you to pick from. You stopped and stood next to the man, fixated on the wall as you tried to decide what flowers would go well together, in meaning and in visuals. Mumbling, you thought out loud.

“Alright. For his mother. Blue hydrangeas… that's gratitude. What can go with that?”

The customer tilted his head in confusion, clearly having heard you.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but what's with blue hydrangeas and gratitude?” He asked. Your eyes widened, and you turned to face him as you started your explanation.

“Oh, it's flower language. I learned about it to help me make more symbolic bouquets. Back in the Victorian era, people would use bouquets of flowers to convey messages they couldn't say out loud. Most of the time it was a love confession, though you could also reject someone if you picked your flora wisely. Individual flowers have meanings, too. Blue hydrangeas, your mum's favorite, symbolize gratitude. There was even a change in the meaning based on which side the ribbon was on, or if they were given upside down, and…” You cut yourself off when you realized you’d been talking for much too long, your excited expression dropping. “I’m rambling about something you definitely don't care about. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a confused look, and a small laugh of disbelief escaped him.

“What? Don't apologize. That was fascinating. I don't know if I’ll ever see flowers the same way again. In a good way, of course”

The fact that he was actually invested in what you had to say pleasantly surprised you. People — not just customers, people you actually choose to surround yourself with — would often tune you out after the first two sentences.

You knew this man for two minutes and he was already raising your standards.

“Well then, I’m happy to give you a new perspective. I’ll get started on your arrangement.”

You stepped back to get a better look at the flowers lining the walls of the room. You already had a vague idea of what you wanted, you just needed to put it into action. Hydrangeas were grabbed first, and made the focal point of the bouquet immediately. Other flowers were picked up and put down, a trial-and-error of sorts until you found which ones truly matched.

Occasionally, you looked over your shoulder to find your customer still standing there, spectating you from a few feet away. He watched you with a certain gleam in his eye, one you would attribute to admiration if you didn't know any better.

Once your selections were made, you picked out a plastic sheet and took the flowers into the back, where there was a smaller room with a much larger table surface for a workspace. The wrapping was laid out, and meticulously, flowers were laid down. Rearranged. Shifted around. After a few small touches, everything was in the exact place you wanted it.

You finally finished up, wrapping the flowers in the silver plastic and tying it up with a blue ribbon. You went back behind the counter and held the bundle of flowers up, pointing at each one as you described the meaning of each specifically selected flower.

“There's the blue hydrangeas for gratitude, white roses for loyalty and beauty, and belladonna delphinium for protection and well-being. You're basically showering your mum with compliments with this thing.”

“It's gorgeous,” he replied, the look of astonishment from before lingering on his face.

“As nature tends to be.”

“I mean, you can't argue with that, but the way you’ve arranged them, it's… stunning. She’ll love it.”

His compliment surprised you; it wasn't too often you got such a compliment for a simple bouquet. It caused your heart to flutter in your chest in a way that definitely crossed the border of the employee-customer relationship you had going on. Frightening. Maybe if you kept acting unaffected, it would magically stop.

“Let me ring you up.”

There was no true cash register, and you instead relied on a pen, a yellow legal pad, and mental math for customers’ totals. It took a moment, but you calculated what he owed you.

“That'll be $54.”

He muttered in agreement, and you watched as he reached into his coat pocket. His hand stayed there, fiddling around. After a moment, he reached the opposite hand into the opposite pocket. He felt around for a second, pulling his hands out and placing them on his hips. His content expression was replaced by one that was much more panicked.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…I forgot my wallet back at my house. Do you take any online payment?”

You shook your head.

“No, sorry. We're old school. That's alright though, I can put these to the side and you can run home and get your wallet.”

He let out a frustrated sigh in response, angry more at himself than anything else.

“That's the thing. I live thirty minutes from here and I’m meeting my mum in fifteen minutes, and I have specific instructions to be on time. I might just…”

He stopped his sentence, paused, and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’ll find something else. Thanks for all your help, though. You have a gift.”

You caught the sincerity behind his now bitter tone, and it made your heart ache. He turned to leave and took a few steps forward. You didn't process that you had said anything until his reaction.

“Wait.”

He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around, and you realized your impulses led you to call out for him even though you had no plan whatsoever.

Biting at your lower lip, you thought of an idea. You genuinely wanted to help this man give his mother flowers… The fact you found him attractive was merely an added bonus. Besides, the pity you felt for him overrode that. Once the metaphorical light bulb lit above your head, you spoke again, leaning in closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Okay, I’m not supposed to do this, and this definitely isn't a good business practice, but I can tell you're not just doing this to steal flowers from me, so I’ll make an exception.”

He leaned in as well with a look of intrigue. You continued to explain.

“You can take the bouquet for now, and then within… I don't know, two days, you have to pay me back. I’d just need a name and phone number so I can contact you if you don't show up.”

You snatched one of your business cards from the display and flipped it over so the blank side faces upwards, leaving a pen in front of you so he could write. He picked up the ballpoint, seemingly scribbled for a moment, and then slid the card back over to you. Written in surprisingly beautiful handwriting, you read his name aloud.

“Andrew… Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.”

This caught you off guard. For a second you wondered if maybe you did accidentally give a free bouquet to a shady guy.

“Excuse me?”

Andrew’s mouth went agape as he realized the connotation behind what he said, and he quickly muttered an explanation, flustered. “Oh my god! No. Not like that. You… your name tag.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you gave him a nod.

“Right. Forgot that was there for a second. Alright, take your bouquet. Happy birthday to your mother. And remember, two days.”

He gave you a gesture showing his gratitude, pressing his hands together.

“Thank you. So much. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” He said, grabbing the bouquet.

“Hopefully with money in two days,” you joked.

He let out a laugh.

“Money would do the trick. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You watched as he left, the smile of your face growing as you noticed his appreciation of the flowers you had arranged by the doorway. He paused for a moment before opening the door and leaving, and you caught him humming a tune you'd never heard before.

You hoped he would come back much sooner rather than later.

#hozier #hozier x reader #andrew hozier byrne #hozier fanfic #hozier fanfiction #writing #fanfic #writeblr #writers on tumblr #divider #to share the space with simple living things

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edenesth · 1 year ago

Text

The Way to His Heart [10]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.5k

Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"

Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.

The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."

Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."

With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"

Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."

"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."

That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."

The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."

Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."

Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."

Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.

He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.

Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.

His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.

However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.

Just go talk to her, you fool.

Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."

Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."

As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"

He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."

"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."

His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.

"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."

"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.

"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"

Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.

The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.

You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."

He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."

Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"

He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."

Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Finally, our first kiss.

Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.

Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.

Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.

"Your Majesty, please—"

The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."

Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.

This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.

Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.

Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.

"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.

Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."

As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."

That's... it?

Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"

All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.

Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."

Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.

Oh god, my life is over...

Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."

All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.

"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.

Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.

As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"

With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."

All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.

"P-please, have mercy!"

Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.

The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."

Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.

Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.

Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.

A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."

"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."

"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.

They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.

"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."

The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.

Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.

"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"

In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"

"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"

The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.

"Yes, sir!"

And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.

Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"

Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."

Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."

"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.

With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."

The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."

As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"

"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.

Just a bit more, and I'm free.

« Preview of Part 11 »

"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.

Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.

"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.

The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"

"Y-you—"

Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"

Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."

That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/5): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy

Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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kinkyrafe · 5 months ago

Text

Two Hours, Eighteen Minutes

Kinktober, October 12

THIS WORK IS 18+ ! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Summary:

The one where Rafe is edged for exactly two hours and eighteen minutes.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, domme!reader, sub!rafe, very explicit

taglist: @yagirlwrites @audzzz @valyrianflower @aariahnaa

Rafe and you haven’t been able to meet up for a couple of days now. It’s still way too early in the relationship to even think about moving in together, though a part of you can’t help but wonder what it would be like. Another part of you isn’t entirely sure if Rafe and you even like each other outside the bedroom.

The sex is incredible, no doubt—the best you’ve ever had. Your gut tells you it’s the same for him. You’d introduced him to this whole world only a couple of months ago, and so far, he’d embraced every part of it. He worships you.

Still, sex alone doesn’t make a relationship, and you can’t help but get insecure sometimes. You wonder whether he’s more enamored with the way you dominate him than who you are. But those thoughts disappear as soon as your phone rings the minute you leave your office.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Rafe’s voice rasps through your AirPods. “How did your presentation go?”

Your heart warms. He’d sent a couple of good luck texts throughout the day, but hearing his voice check in felt different—more intimate.

“It went really well,” you reply, pushing through the door and heading down the stairs. “They loved the proposal. It’s basically accepted; I’ll know by Monday.”

“Sounds great,” Rafe responds. You can almost hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah. Thank you for checking in, babe. How’s your day?”

“Eh,” he sighs, “boring as fuck, but okay.”

“Are you off work already?” you ask, your voice turning suggestive. “I could think of a couple ways to make your day more exciting.”

“One more client,” he groans. “I could be at your place in maybe one and a half hours. Two, max.”

You grin, an idea already forming. “I’ll give you an incentive to hurry then,” you say smugly, unlocking your car. “I’m gonna time how long it takes you to get here. However long it takes, that’s how many minutes I’ll edge you tonight.”

His groan is instant, guttural. “Babe, no, you can’t do that to me.”

“Aw, I’ve done worse,” you tease, waving goodbye to your coworker in the parking lot. “Just think about how good it’ll feel when I finally let you come.”

“Fuck, babe. I’m hard already,” he admits.

You laugh softly, “Better behave for that last client then.”

“I will, I just need a second,” he chuckles.

“Maybe we should stop talking. The clock’s ticking.” And with that, you hang up, leaving him to stew in his anticipation.

Two hours and eighteen minutes. That’s the time he has to last tonight.

You order Rafe to sit on the couch, and he obeys without hesitation. There’s a mix of excitement and tension in his eyes as you stand over him, watching his every move.

“The only thing you need to do is obey,” you remind him with a wicked grin. “I’ll handle the rest.”

First, you tie his hands behind his back, tight but not too tight—just enough to remind him of his place. Then, you hold the ball gag in front of his mouth, giving him that familiar, expectant look. He knows the routine, so you prompt him anyway, “Remind me of your safe words and the gestures for when you’re gagged.”

He quickly shows you, and you nod approvingly. “Good boy. Open up.”

He opens his mouth willingly, and you fit the gag between his lips, securing it behind his head. Then you grab the blindfold, wrapping it around his head and plunging him into darkness.

You move behind him, kneeling on the couch, so his back is against your chest, his body sitting between your legs. “Spread those legs wide,” you command, your voice low and firm.

He obeys, his thighs parting for you.

“Keep them spread. That’s your only job today. Keep those legs open for me.”

You set a timer on your phone and place it beside you. “Two hours and eighteen minutes,” you murmur into his ear, your breath hot against his skin. “When the timer goes off, you can come whenever you’re able.” You lean closer, lips grazing his neck. “Until then, you’re mine to play with.”

You hit start on the timer. It’s going to be a long, teasing stretch—especially since he can’t see how much time has passed. The power of control pulses through you, making you feel downright diabolical.

Leaning in, you press a soft kiss just below his ear, his sensitive spot. His cock twitches, a low moan escaping his gagged lips.

“Mmm, so responsive already,” you praise, smiling against his neck. You start by spanking his inner thighs, alternating between slow strokes and stinging slaps, enough to make his skin redden. You drag your nails across the heated flesh in between sets, making him shiver.

“Has it been two hours yet?” he manages to ask through the gag, humor barely hiding his discomfort as you land a slap dangerously close to his balls.

You smirk. “Still in a joking mood?” You slap him harder, making his legs tremble as he tries to keep them spread. You dig your nails into his thigh, watching his body strain against his binds.

"Remember," you say, your voice feigning innocence as you lightly tap his balls, "the gag is there for a reason. I don't want to hear you speak, understood?"

He nods quickly, his thighs quivering with the effort of holding himself open for you. When his knees shift in slightly, instinctively protecting his sensitive balls, you tap them harder.

“Open your legs for me,” you command. His legs fly apart immediately, and you smile. “Good boy. Keep them wide like that.”

Then, you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking slowly. He’s rock hard, his cock twitching in your hand. It doesn’t take long before he’s edging closer and closer, his body tensing with every touch. But you don’t let him have the release he’s dying for. You build him up, only to pull him back from the edge over and over.

Twenty minutes in, he’s already a moaning, trembling mess, his body on fire from your teasing. His legs start to close, just a little, betraying his struggle to hold back. You grab the paddle this time and smack his thighs, hard.

“Spread your legs,” you snap, “or I’ll make this even harder.”

His groan is loud, almost desperate, but he obeys, his knees jerking back apart. You tilt his head back by the chin to keep him upright, and then you start playing with his nipples, flicking your knuckles over the hardened buds. He whimpers, his hips bucking helplessly.

“Poor boy,” you tease, twisting his nipples harshly. “I haven’t even started on these yet.”

You work his nipples relentlessly, twisting and tugging, pulling soft, pathetic moans from his throat. You know you could make him cum just from this alone if you wanted to.

Every time his legs twitch closed, you shove them back open, spanking him hard to remind him who’s in charge. He’s been warned multiple times.

You don’t talk much during the session; your actions are enough. The control, the power—you don’t need to rile him up with words. His body is already past the point of begging, past coherent thoughts, just reacting to your every touch.

After an hour and a half, you really need to change positions. You untie him briefly and order him to kneel on the couch, his knees spread wide. Then, you bend him over, his chest and head pressed against the cushions, his ass raised high.

With his hands still tied behind his back, the position is uncomfortable, but you know it’ll help him last longer. You wrap a cock ring around his balls without warning, and he lets out a choked groan of relief—until he feels the cold lube drizzle over his hole.

“You didn’t think I’d make this easy, did you?” you ask, your voice playful as you slide the prostate massager inside him. He shakes his head, swallowing around the gag.

His body is so tense, every jerk of his hips is unnatural, his movements erratic as he fights to hold himself back.

You barely have to do anything now. Holding his cock in both hands, you run slow circles over the sensitive head, teasing him. His body is past words now. You can’t remember the last time he managed to choke out a proper “please.” All that escapes his mouth are desperate sounds—soft “oh”s and gasps of tortured pleasure.

You listen, savoring every noise, each gasp and groan. “Such pretty noises you’re making for me... am I making you feel good?”

You stroke him firmly, up and down his length, watching as his body convulses, his breathing ragged and uneven. His hips jerk upwards as the build-up of his orgasm starts again, only to sink back down onto the couch when you stop your ministrations.

You smile. This is what people mean when they say you can play someone’s body like an instrument. Every word, every touch, every slight movement—his body responds without thought. He’s a puppet, and you’re pulling the strings.

He’s so close now, but you don’t let him cum. Not yet.

“Too bad,” you coo, “you still have some time to go.” Luckily for him, it’s only another minute and a half, but he doesn’t need to know that. You resume your slow, torturous pace, keeping him on the edge. His body is trembling uncontrollably now, every muscle tensing and releasing as if he’s barely holding on.

The room is filled with the sounds of his ragged breaths, muffled whimpers, and the soft ticking of the timer. You love every second of it—watching him strain, seeing how desperate he is to let go but knowing he can’t. Not yet.

Just as you run your fingers lightly over his sensitive cock again, the timer goes off.

The sound fills the room, but Rafe doesn’t notice at first. He’s too far gone, too overwhelmed by everything you’ve done to him. When it finally registers, a sob of relief escapes him. His whole body slumps forward, barely held up by the restraints. You smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

“You made it,” you whisper, your voice filled with praise. “So, so good, babe.”

You remove the cock ring, and with just a few firm strokes, his entire body tenses again. The moans that rip from his throat are muffled by the gag as his orgasm crashes through him like a tidal wave. You can feel every tremor, every shudder, as his body shakes uncontrollably, ropes of cum spilling from his cock as you continue stroking him through it. He’s completely, utterly ruined, just how you wanted him.

When he’s finally spent, you slowly untie his wrists, careful not to let him collapse into an awkward position. You remove the blindfold and the gag, stroking his hair softly, letting him catch his breath.

“I love seeing you like this—completely ruined, all because of me,” you say with a satisfied smile as you wipe the cum from his body with a warm cloth. He’s too exhausted to respond immediately, his breathing still labored, but he manages a small chuckle.

“My brain always clocks out about halfway through,” he admits with a breathless laugh. His voice is hoarse, and you can see the openness in his eyes. It’s one of your favorite parts, how completely vulnerable and raw he is after a session like this.

“Yeah?” you ask, grinning as you lie down beside him on the couch, pulling him into your arms. “And yet you made it all the way through.”

He leans into you, his body finally relaxed, spent. “I never would’ve thought I’d love this so much,” he murmurs, a hint of awe in his voice.

You kiss his forehead gently, running your fingers through his hair. "You trust me," you say softly, "and that's everything."

A few weeks ago, he might’ve been shy or embarrassed about how deeply he’s fallen into submission, but not anymore. Now, he’s comfortable. Confident. There’s no shame, no hesitation. He knows he’s completely safe with you, that you’ll always take care of him—even when you push him to his limits.

He’s quiet for a while, just resting against you as you stroke his back, giving him the aftercare he needs. It’s a peaceful moment, a contrast to the intensity of everything that just happened. You savor it, holding him close, knowing that these quiet moments are just as important as the play itself.

Eventually, he looks up at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “Thank you,” he says, his voice soft but sincere. “For everything.”

You smile, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Always,” you reply. And you mean it.

#sub!rafekinktober #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #obx #sub!rafe #kinktober #drew starkey #subby boys

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beenbaanbuun · 1 year ago

Text

in the studio w/poly matz

just something short that was on my brain!! i’ll get back to answering asks tomorrow <33

words - short

genre - smut

warnings - cock warming, gagging, hair pulling, pet names, mommy!seonghwa

——————

sitting between seonghwa’s thighs warming his cock in your mouth while he’s watching hongjoong get some work done in the seat next to him. they keep moving their hands down to your face to gently stroke your stuffed cheeks every once in a while, giggling and talking amongst themselves whilst they soothe you with their hands. they act so casual about it all as if seonghwa’s dick isn’t prodding at the back of your throat every time you inhale. to be fair, with how regularly it happens, it may as well be casual at this point.

“you okay down there, darling?” hongjoong hums as he trails a finger along your jawbone. you nod at him with wide eyes. all he can do in return is give you a precious smile before looking back at his screen, “you’re so good for us, aren’t you? keeping mommy’s cock nice and warm while i do my job?”

you nod again - you’re honestly so desperate for their approval it hurts - but in doing so, you nudge seonghwa’s dick a little too far back. the sound of your gag fills the room, interrupting the quiet click-clack of computer keys. you shuffle back, trying to pull your mouth away so you can catch your breath, but seonghwa’s hand catches you and holds you in place

“where do you think you’re going?” he chuckles gently as he tightens his grip on your hair until there’s a dull ache at the back of your head. you whimper as he studies you with his soft eyes, the look on his face a stark contrast to the painful hold he has on you, “you know the rules, if you’ve had enough you ask nicely, hm? show us what you do.”

you tap on his thigh three times over in response and he gives you a wide smile in response.

“what a good girl,” he says, “behaving so good for us, aren’t you?”

you don’t answer because you can’t, mouth still half-stuffed with dick. if you could you’d probably bask in his praise, telling him that you are a good girl; you’re their good girl. you’d probably tell them you’re sorry for trying to pull away without asking nicely, too. maybe even beg for forgiveness if they weren’t feeling gracious enough to give it up freely. you wouldn’t be surprised - afterall, you should know better.

instead you lean your head on seonghwa’s bare thigh, ignoring the way the new angle makes your hair feel impossibly tight at the back of your head. he coos as his other hand comes to brush a few loose strands away from your face. he always does take care of you so well.

“our precious girl,” hongjoong hums, “be a good girl and stay there while i work. tap if you can’t, okay? maybe if you’re good, hwa will give you a reward.”

you perked up at that, making both the men chuckle. perhaps they should’ve known that further incentive would make you all too excited to please them. they watch carefully as you readjust yourself into a position you would consider comfy-ish, settling yourself in for the long-haul. seonghwa’s grip finally loosens, and instead his fingers gently massage your sore scalp. it didn’t look like he’d need to keep you in place anymore.

“just a bit longer, darling,” he coos, “then you can have your treat.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #poly ateez smut #poly ateez #poly ateez x reader

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willowsnook · 5 months ago

Note

hiii can you please serve a vodka,whiskey, tequila, and scotch with italian soda in either a cooper mug or wine glass ? ty <3

charles leclerc x reader

a little variation on the prompts bc i was struggling

18+

it's always been you you're mine, end of discussion let me take care of you just shut up and come here

“We’re definitely sad to see you go, y/n,” your boss said, a frown tugging at his face, “but we’re glad to have you for the final stretch of the season.”

You had just told him that, as Carlos’ lead strategist, you’d be following him to Williams next year. You’d worked with Carlos since your first day at Ferrari, and over time, you two had become incredibly close. When he started negotiating with Williams, he mentioned he’d feel more comfortable if you were by his side. They offered you a position, and after some thought and financial incentive, you accepted.

Ferrari had been home, but the idea of a fresh start was exciting—and part of the reason you were ready for a change was waiting just outside your boss’s office.

“You’re really leaving Ferrari?” a voice called as you walked out, Charles stepping in your path.

“Yes, next season,” you sighed, already bracing for a comment.

“So, you’re a traitor then.” He crossed his arms, his expression sharp.

“People switch teams all the time,” you countered.

“Yeah, but you have insider knowledge.”

“And you had insider knowledge from Sauber. No one’s accusing you of anything,” you snapped back, narrowing your eyes. “Why do you even care, Charles? Honestly, I’m thrilled I won’t have to deal with you.”

“Maybe Ferrari will finally give Lewis someone with a brain,” he shot back.

You flipped him off as you brushed past him, headed to your office. From day one, you and Charles had been at odds, no matter how much Carlos tried to smooth things over. He constantly undermined your decisions, making it clear he didn’t think you deserved your position.

When you stepped into your office, Carlos was waiting, lounging in the chair opposite your desk. He grinned as you entered.

“How’d it go?” he asked, though you could see the concern in his eyes.

“Fine. He didn’t say much.” You dropped into your seat, rolling your eyes. “Thanks for telling Charles, by the way.”

Carlos smirked. “What did he say?”

“The usual nonsense.”

“He was pretty upset when I told him,” Carlos said, watching you carefully.

“Why?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Because he likes you, cariño,” Carlos replied, exasperation evident in his voice.

You scoffed. “He hates me, and I hate him.”

Carlos just shook his head. “Two people that argue with the passion you guys have aren't just enemies. Trust me.”

Rolling your eyes again, you shooed him out of your office, focusing back on preparations for the next race.

Three weeks later

“I can’t believe you screwed me like that!” Charles’ voice rang out as he stormed into the garage, livid after the race.

“I’m sorry, since when was it part of the strategy to overtake there?” you snapped back, meeting his anger head-on. “We told you to wait for the next turn.”

“I had the opportunity!” he seethed.

“And look where that got you,” you shot back, throwing your arms up. “Into the wall!”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re sabotaging me to help Carlos. Just admit it.”

“Ferrari signs my checks, not Carlos,” you retorted, your voice edged with frustration.

He glared at you before muttering, “Please, you wouldn’t even be here if Carlos didn’t think you were so—”

“Charles!” Carlos’ voice broke through, but it was too late. Your hand slapped Charles across the face before you even registered the movement. His eyes went wide with shock, and you turned on your heel, storming out of the garage without looking back.

You left early, heading straight to the hotel, needing space to cool off. Carlos texted later, checking in and inviting you to dinner with him and Rebecca.

Reluctantly, you changed into a nicer outfit and met them downstairs.

“How are you, y/n?” Rebecca asked kindly, linking her arm with yours as you stepped into the Uber.

“It’s been a day,” you muttered.

“Charles feels terrible, you know,” Carlos chimed in from your other side.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure.”

Carlos pulled you to a stop, making you face him. “He does, seriously. We all get worked up after races, and what he said was out of line. But you know how it is.”

You just hummed in response, unwilling to dive back into the topic, and turned your attention to Rebecca. Dinner was lighthearted, and soon after, the three of you headed to a nearby bar with friends. A few drinks in, you spotted Charles watching you from across the room. The moment your eyes met, you turned away, avoiding him for the rest of the night.

But as the night wound down, you sensed him approaching, and when you turned, there he was—standing right behind you.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly, his earlier anger replaced with something softer.

You sighed, giving in. He led you to a quieter corner, and even in your haze, you could feel the tension between you two.

“I crossed the line earlier,” he admitted, his gaze dropping. “You just—drive me insane.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” you replied with a bitter laugh.

“In a way, yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

You were tired of his words, tired of the tension. Without thinking, you grabbed his collar, pulling him down into a fierce kiss. He froze, stunned, but after a beat, his hands found your waist, pulling you closer.

“I like you better when you’re not talking,” you said as you pulled back, breathless. “I still hate you. But I'm drunk and want to forget this day.”

His eyes darkened as he nodded. Wordlessly, you led him out of the bar, ignoring Carlos’ knowing smirk as you ducked into a car with Charles at your side, his hand resting on your thigh, neither of you saying a word.

Opening the door to your hotel room, Charles tried to push you against the wall but you shoved him back.

"I'm in control," you said sternly and he held your gaze for a second before retreating to lay down on the bed. You watched as he pulled his shirt over his head and your eyes followed from his chest down to his abs in appreciation.

"See something you like mon cheri?" He asked smirking and you stalked over to him.

Straddling him, you met his lips in a heated kiss again, fingers tangled in his hair while he tugged at your dress to pull over your head. When it was off he immediately attached his lips to your chest, sucking harsh enough to leave a mark and causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. Feeling him harden underneath you, you ground your hips down onto him causing him to gasp.

His hands found the sides of your hips and started rocking you back and forth against him while you whimpered at the friction.

"That feel good huh," he rasped. "You need more?"

"Yes Charles please," you begged and he smirked at your neediness. He set you on your back and pulled down his jeans and boxers, letting his cock flip up against his abs.

He reached down to pull your thong off and rubbed his fingers up and down your wetness.

"So wet for someone you supposedly hate," he teased as you groaned against him. He brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting you. "Tastes even better than I imagined."

You started to say something but were cut off as he pushed into you, causing you to gasp. He moved slowly, whispering encouraging words in your ear as you adjusted to his size.

"Move Charles," you demanded once you were ready and he happily obliged, picking up a fast pace. You dug your nails into his back as he pounded into you, causing him to gasp out.

"I want on top," you breathed out and he pulled out, helping you up. Once he was settled, you sunk down on him slowly causing him to groan. You kept at a slow pace enjoying the tortured look on his face.

"Come on," he complained and you smirked.

"Beg."

He didn't say anything for a while, just staring into your eyes until you rolled your hips into his, causing him to whimper.

"Please y/n," he begged. "I need more mon cheri, please make me feel good. I need you."

Satisfied, you started moving faster and his head fell back against the pillow, his eyes closing. Your hand wrapped around his throat forcing him to look back at you.

"Eyes on me," you purred and he bit your lip. Grinding against him you could feel your climax coming and it was game over as his thumb found your clit. Your hips came to a stop as it washed over you and Charles dug his hands into your hips to take over the movement.

He was brutally fucking up into you chasing his own release as you squeezed tightly around him. At the last minute he flipped you back over to get a better angle and finally spilled into you.

The two of you just stared at each other in silence, breathing hard. You started to get up to move towards the bathroom but he stopped you.

"Let me take care of you," he said, scooping you up in his arms. He set you down in the shower, turned on the water, and slid in behind you. Washing your body slowly, you let yourself relax against him forgetting for just a second that this was your mortal enemy.

Turning the water off, you changed into pajamas and hesitated, seeing Charles in the bed under the covers.

"I don't know if you should spend the night," you said, and he gave you a pointed look.

"Just shut up and come here," he said and you gave in, climbing into bed next to him. He pulled you against him, letting your head rest against your chest.

"What are we doing?" You mumbled against him. "You don't even think I'm qualified enough to do my job and here I am letting you into my bed."

His fingers that were tracing circles on your back stilled.

"I don't think that," he said and you scoffed looking up at him.

"You basically say something along those lines every time we are together," you retorted and he looked away.

"It's just hard," he finally said.

"How is trying to be civil with me so difficult?"

"Because I'm jealous okay!" He exclaimed exasperated. "I love my strategists but they're all way older and have lives and other things going on. Carlos gets you and it's not fair. You guys hang out all the time and you actually want to spend time with him. It's been you that I've wanted this whole time."

Your mind was reeling at his confession and you sat up. He looked at you expectantly.

"So because you were jealous of me being Carlos' strategist, you decided the best course of action was to harass me?" You asked and he flinched at the coldness in your voice.

"In hindsight, it was a bad idea," he admitted. "I was just hoping you'd switch to another team but now that it's actually happening I freaked."

"You are truly unbelievable," you said, amazed at the audacity of this man. You laid back against your pillow and just stared at the ceiling.

"So what now?" Charles asked nervously.

"Dude, I don't even know," you said. "I hate you, but you hate me because you like me, and now I don't know what to think."

"I know," Charles said, his voice steady now. "But I don’t want to lose this... whatever it is between us. Can we at least try to figure it out? Maybe start over?"

You looked at him for a long moment, weighing his words, before finally nodding slightly. "Maybe," you said. "But this doesn’t just go away because you’ve admitted it. You hurt me, Charles."

He nodded solemnly. "I know. And I’ll make it right if you give me the chance. I want you to be mine."

You didn’t respond immediately, still processing everything. Eventually, you rolled onto your side, closing your eyes. "Let’s just get some sleep. We’ll figure out tomorrow when it comes."

Charles lay back down beside you, giving you space but still close enough to feel his presence.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc

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fuctacles · 3 months ago

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I just need a lil blurb of some nasty fucking pretty please 🥺

i am so sorry i am not good at writing smut im sorry. also u said nasty and all i could think about was sw e a t

this is ofc 800 words for 800 followers but tumblr brought me back to 693 since then lmao | Ao3

Steve likes Mondays.

Everyone leaves early, and he gets to close the gym by himself. He owns the place, he has the key, he can loiter around as much as he wants, and do everything as slowly as he feels like. There's no need to throw anyone out because even the most dedicated gym bros don't want to overwork themselves at the start of the week.

Except for one guy.

He looks extremely out of place and the first time Steve saw him, he gave him a month, maybe two, considering he would show up with friends sometimes—always a good incentive to exercise. But one day, when he was lazily walking on a treadmill in his ratty sneakers and loose black clothes, Hargrove walked up to him, nodding at his shirt. New Guy, having no idea the whole gym was holding its breath, lowered his headphones and had a short exchange about metal music. They shook hands, sealing Munson's reluctant respect from other gym-goers.

If the lone wolf Hargrove, who bites anyone who even looks at him wrong, likes him, everyone else is also going to.

Eddie Munson still looks out of place and is extremely surprised every time a bulky guy approaches him to give advice instead of beating him up, but he's been going four months strong, which Steve finds impressive.

On Monday's playlists, he sneaks in some hard rock and any band he recognizes from Eddie's shirts. It was a Monday when Eddie told him about an ex that's been harassing him. On Monday nights, Eddie stays back, and they walk hand in hand through the dark parking lot. On Mondays, Steve fucks Eddie senseless in the empty gym.

He's still not sure how it happened. How a personal trainer and gym owner caught the eye of a scrawny metalhead, how their needs and wants aligned and clicked, but when he opens the locker room, there's only one person left there; tattoos on display and hair still dripping from the shower.

"We're closed," he announces, gaining Eddie's attention.

The man pouts.

"Ah, I was hoping for a private session?" The towel falls from his hips, leaving him bare to the world. Which, right now, consists of one Steve Harrington.

He closes the door.

"Laying it on thick today, huh?" he tilts his head, approaching painfully slowly.

"Ah, you see, I didn't have a dick in me for a whole week, I'm kind of desperate," Eddie admits, his smile turning shameless.

Steve quirks his eyebrow.

"Why do I doubt that? A slut like you?" He smiles meanly, finally within reach. Eddie seems to be vibrating out of his skin for a touch.

"The wait makes it better," he says, a little bit breathy, eyes roaming over his body.

Now that Steve could believe. Even if for a sliver of a second, he hoped it meant something else.

He reaches out, thumb tracing the dip of Eddie's hips, but as the man shifts closer, his nose scrunches.

"You stink."

Steve hums, grabbing his other side.

"Yeah. You like it?"

"I just took a shower," he complains.

A deflection.

"Well, that's on you. Should have thought this through better, mister Dungeon Master."

"You're usually showered too!" he protests, grunting when he tries to stop Steve from pressing closer and gets his hands on his clammy pecs as a result.

"Something came up." Steve shrugs, slowly engulfing him in his embrace. Eddie squirms, and to torment him a bit more, he lifts his arm.

"Steve—!"

He laughs and is about to release him and offer to shower together when he notices Eddie's face. Then, something else, hard and throbbing against his hip. A smirk blooms on his face.

"You do like it."

"No."

"No?" Steve lifts an eyebrow. "You don't want my sweaty balls on your face?"

Eddie moans.

They look at each other with wide eyes, like they're both surprised by the sound. Steve laughs in surprise.

"Well, why didn't you say so?"

He doesn't even have to push him down, Eddie goes to his knees without prompting, greedily pulling on his shorts. Once they're out of the way, he leans in and inhales, nose wedged between his thigh and groin.

"Jesus," Steve mutters to himself, mesmerized by the view in front of him—the scrawny gym loser drunk on his pheromones, palming his rock-hard dick. "This really doing it for you, huh?"

Eddie whines, looking up at him with blacked-out pupils. Steve gets lightheaded with how fast the blood is rushing to his dick.

"I want you on top of me."

Steve is initially confused, but when Eddie leans back to lie on the floor, he doesn't protest. Locker room linoleum might not be the best surface for sex, but he was going to take a shower anyway.

forgot to tag my little losers: @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

#his ex was jason and he was supposed to run into them and steve was supposed to be like 'watch and learn carver'#but i decided im not wasting precious words on that #steddie #mine #sub eddie munson #brat eddie munson #request #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #one shot #steddie thoughts #steddie fanfiction

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marmaladeinlemonade · 6 months ago

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Ppl will complain about Pressure updates and devs while forgetting Pressure is NEW.

Ik tumblr has more users with common sense but the amount of tiktoks and tt users say that the game was at its PEAK two weeks after the game's release just bc you could climb Sebastian, he wasn't (visibly) married (it was always written into his character), and tolerated the players slightly more is INSANE.

Most games, at that, aren't at its peak gameplay and story a month after release!!

"The anti-climbing mechanic doesn't even fix anything!" Yeah because you climbed Sebastian several times over ofc at SOME point you're gonna get softlocked bro. Maybe try playing pressure for a reason aside from harassing seb.

I genuinely feel like the pressure fanbase tend to forget that Pressure is from roblox programmers in a small developing group. This isn't Hoyoverse or DevSisters where the game is fully polished with information on all characters and a finalized world building upon release because the company has more time, money, and skilled labor to develop that. It was made in ~1 year and a rushed release.

Not only that, but Pressure is a passion-project. It isn't driven by money, which means there's not much of an incentive to please the playerbase with fan service content that changes lore/characters so people can buy it. (Fan service as in any content made to make ppl happy) So, developers are going to choose what they want to do with the game bc they don't care whether or not you play. Zeal said so first thing in his interview with Breadian.

Amazing features that enrich gameplay and world building such as Sebastian killing walldwellers and the DiVine being able to kill you, Navi-AI turning into a new character, and several new room types are hinted to come to Pressure but nooo!!! Its somehow cooked and unsavable because of ONE form of characterization YOU deem incorrect not even knowing the character's lore. Right.

Edit: Pressure has a future as a roblox game that values storytelling and immersing the user in it's world. We need rblx games like it that put work over profit so people stay on the platform. Especially when older and new games have become money hungry over time.

Its really crazy how people be biting the hand that feeds them. Seb could easily be replaced with an expendable or unknown void like jeffery as a merchant npc if this continues. Online users will really be out her acting like the person who wrote and designed their favorite character is all of a sudden BAD!! And their favorite character is RUINED!!! And TAKEN AWAY FROM THEM!! Because their personality wasn't made to please the fanbase.

Yes, Sebastian hates you. Not pouty tsundere hates you, he is literally keeping you alive against his own will by mr. Lopee. He not tryna fuck bro 🔥

#painter pressure #pressure roblox #sebastian solace #zerum #zeal pressure #this is mostly about sebastian lmao #the DiVine #eyefestation #zerum drama #pressure #pressure fandom #urbanshade #opinion

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cosmiclily · 1 month ago

Text

chapter nine: the edge

wc: 2.8k

notes: next chapter will be the interview that i mentioned a couple of chapters ago!!! pls send some questions to our fellow rock stars

Apparently, sex was, in fact, a fantastic creative exercise—or at the very least, an excellent incentive for spitting out lyrics. Once you figured that out, the entire process of choosing lyrics, organizing tracks, and brainstorming ideas became a hell of a lot easier.

Writer’s block? Fixed with Vi’s hands gripping your hips, her mouth marking a trail down your stomach.

Frustrated over a melody that wouldn’t click? Easily solved by the way she pressed you into the mattress and pulled sounds from your lips sweeter than any song you’d ever written.

Tension from long hours in the studio? Well… she had a very effective method of dealing with that.

Of course, you weren’t oblivious. You knew exactly what Vi was doing—using you as a distraction, a way to keep from drowning in whatever emotions those songs dragged back up. You knew she was using you to not think about her. Caitlyn.

But when Vi held you like that, when her fingers tangled in your hair, when she bit down on your neck just enough to make you shiver, when she touched you exactly the way you needed to be touched? None of that mattered. Not even a little.

And, honestly? It was a great way to de-stress.

The long nights spent cramped in the studio became more bearable when you knew you could go home and have Vi all to yourself.

It was like having a place where the weight of the world could just melt away. You got to pull her closer, scratch, bite, and touch every inch of her as if she was yours to do with as you pleased.

And the memories were almost addictive. Every time the pressure of the studio, the deadlines, or a fight with someone built up, you could close your eyes and retreat to your happy place.

“We’re almost finished here,” Archie said, barely looking up from his tablet. “Mark was talking to me about promotions, interviews, appearances—the whole deal. So clear your schedules.”

You sat back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head with a satisfied sigh. For the first time in months, the studio didn’t feel like a pressure cooker. No one was snapping at each other out of frustration, no one was sulking over failed ideas, and—most importantly—no one was on the verge of throwing their instruments against the wall.

The hard part was finally done.

You’d recorded a couple of solid tracks, and almost every song you wanted for the album was ready. The weight that had been crushing your shoulders for months had finally eased, letting you breathe a little easier.

“Finally,” Jinx groaned, throwing herself onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. “If I had to listen to one more version of that last chorus, I think I’d start hearing it in my dreams.”

Ekko smirked, tuning his bass idly. “You say that like you don’t already.”

Jinx pointed a finger at him without lifting her head. “Shut it, time boy.”

Vi chuckled from her spot by the drum set, twirling a drumstick between her fingers. “Admit it—you’re gonna miss all this once we’re done.”

Jinx peeked up at her with a lazy grin. “I’ll miss driving you crazy. That part was fun.”

You shook your head, laughing, before glancing back at Archie. “So, what’s next?”

Archie scrolled through his tablet before giving you all a pointed look. “Now? We get ready to *sell* this thing. That means promo shoots, interviews, maybe even a live session or two.” He narrowed his eyes. “So, try not to look half-dead for the cameras, alright?”

You snorted. “No promises.”

“Great. Love the enthusiasm,” Archie deadpanned before turning back to his notes. “Now, let’s talk deadlines…”

He turned his tablet to us, displaying his calendar.

“This month, we’ll be finishing the recording, and the producers will take care of the rest. Next week, we want to shoot some pictures for the cover and also do some introductions for your channel—you know, fan stuff,” he rushed through, glancing up at us, his finger hovering over the screen. “And we want to do an interview, answering questions from your fans, and some general stuff.”

He continued explaining the calendar details, but you couldn’t help but notice the way everyone else’s faces seemed to blur into confusion. You weren’t the only one who was a little lost in the whirlwind of the plans. With everything that had been happening in the studio lately, the reality of the promotion process felt like a whole new beast to tackle. The recording was one thing, but now there were public appearances, live sessions, photo shoots, and interviews to manage too.

Vi, sensing the shared hesitation, shot you a quick, silent look across the room, one brow arched in that familiar, unspoken question. Is this what we’re really getting into?

You couldn’t help but grin and shrug. “Fan stuff, huh? Sounds… fun.”

Jinx leaned back in her chair with a loud groan. “Wait, wait, hold up. So now we’re gonna have to look good for the cameras too?” She ran a hand through her messy hair. “I mean, sure, we look good, but I’m not exactly camera ready.”

Ekko chuckled, clearly amused. “Jinx, I think the camera is going to need a lot more than a filter to handle you.”

Jinx shot him a glare. “If you’re trying to be funny, it’s not working.”

Archie’s face was a mixture of professional concern and barely-contained amusement. “Look, I know this is a lot, but we’ve been working for this moment. The album’s almost ready, and now we need to give people a taste of what’s coming. You want them to care, right? Then we have to make them care.”

Vi, ever the voice of reason, raised her hand, leaning forward to address the group. “We’ve been locked in here for months. It’s time to show the world what we’ve been working on. Let’s just get it over with, yeah?”

There was a brief silence, followed by murmurs of agreement. Everyone seemed to acknowledge the inevitable.

“Alright,” you said with a deep breath, sitting up straighter, “let’s just get this done. We’ve made it this far.”

Archie nodded, satisfied. “Good. So, here’s the schedule for the next two weeks. Let’s get moving on it.” He handed out the specific tasks and assignments, detailing each member’s role in the upcoming photo shoots, interviews, and other appearances.

As he wrapped things up, the room fell into a quiet hum of anticipation. This was the next phase—one where the music wasn’t the only thing that mattered anymore.

──────────────────────

You were paired off in twos to film a short introduction video for yourselves and the album—Vi and you, and Ekko with Jinx. Archie gave you the freedom to choose where you wanted to film and what you could talk about (as long as you stuck to the schedule, of course).

Vi suggested filming at your place, claiming “the plants give off a nice vibe.” You didn’t argue—if it made things easier, you were all for it. So, to your apartment you went.

As you both stepped inside, Vi kicked off her boots near the door while you tossed your keys onto the table, the familiar clatter echoing in the quiet space. The apartment felt weirdly calm compared to the chaotic energy of the studio. But now came the hard part—figuring out what the hell to do for this video.

“So, what do you think we should do?” Vi asked, her voice casual as she wandered over to your living room, eyeing the plants like they’d give her the answer.

You trailed behind her, chewing on the inside of your cheek. What could you film that would actually reflect your energy without coming off as too much… or, worse, boring?

“Honestly? I’ve got no clue.” You flopped onto the couch, sighing. “Ekko and Jinx are doing some painting session or whatever since they’ve got that in common. But us?” You gestured vaguely between the two of you. “What do we do? Besides, you know…” You trailed off with a smirk, your mind flashing back to Vi's very creative methods of stress relief.

Vi chuckled, flopping down beside you and tossing her legs over your lap. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s exactly the vibe Archie’s looking for.” She shot you a teasing grin. “Though I’m sure it’d get us a hell of a lot of views.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, not trying to get us banned off every platform before the album even drops.”

Vi leaned back, staring at the ceiling in thought. “Okay, so… no painting, no X-rated content.” She tapped her fingers against the couch rhythmically. “What about something simple? Like us just talking about the songs, the process, you know?”

You made a face. “That sounds kinda… stiff. Everyone’s gonna do that. I mean, sure, we talk about the songs, but there’s gotta be something more us in it.”

Vi was quiet for a second before her eyes lit up. “What if we do something more casual? Like, we’re just hanging out, talking shit, maybe playing some old tracks and reacting to them?” She grinned, nudging your shoulder. “You know, let people see the real us—chaotic mess and all.”

You laughed, the idea settling in your mind. That actually sounded like fun. “Alright, yeah. I like that. Maybe we can even throw in some behind-the-scenes clips? Like the time Jinx nearly set the mic on fire?”

Vi burst out laughing. “Or when Ekko tripped over his own bass cable and tried to play it off like nothing happened?”

The two of you were already in stitches, the tension from earlier melting away. This felt right—natural, fun, and totally you.

“Okay,” you said, standing up and grabbing your phone. “Let’s set this up before we lose the vibe. You grab the speaker, I’ll get the camera.”

Vi gave you a mock salute. “Aye aye, captain.”

In no time, your makeshift filming set was ready. You grabbed some snacks, adjusted the lighting just enough to look effortless, and set the camera to start recording.

You both introduced yourselves, diving into the story of how the band came together. It felt natural, almost like reminiscing with an old friend rather than filming something for fans.

“At first, it was just the two of us,” Vi said, pointing between the two of you with a grin. “We were messing around, trying to figure out our sound. Then my younger sister decided to be extremely annoying while we practiced—always yapping about how two people weren’t a real band. Eventually, she dragged Ekko into this mess, and, well… here we are.”

You laughed, the memory still vivid. “Oh, I definitely remember the first time Jinx quite literally dragged him into that old room at school—the one we used for practice. She barged in, shouting about how Ekko had a garage we could use, and how she had all these brilliant ideas.”

Vi chuckled, shaking her head. “Yeah! I remember that. Poor Benzo looked so displeased with a bunch of teenagers making a racket in the back of his shop. I’m pretty sure he aged ten years in that first month alone.”

You both laughed, the camera kept rolling, but for a moment, it didn’t even feel like it was there.

As Vi continued talking about the process of creating the album—how the songs and lyrics meant so much to all of you—your mind began to wander. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly beautiful she looked, sitting there comfortably, her voice steady and confident as she spoke to the camera. The black hair dye had almost completely faded from her hair, leaving the natural pink vibrant and bright against her skin. Her hair had grown out a bit, just enough that it curled slightly at the ends, and you found yourself fighting the urge to reach out and drag your fingers through those soft, messy locks.

Your eyes traced the freckles scattered across her cheeks, the way they bridged her nose, delicate and familiar. And her eyes—God, her eyes sparkled when she talked about something she was passionate about, like the music, like this. It was the kind of sparkle that pulled you in, made you want to listen to her forever, just to keep that light alive.

It was almost like…

Oh.

No, no, no, no.

You were not catching feelings. That was impossible. This was supposed to be casual—just fun. You both knew that from the start. So what the fuck were you thinking?

Panic tightened in your chest, a cold, sharp edge to the realization sinking in. You were spiraling, and you barely registered Vi’s voice cutting through your thoughts.

“Hey,” she said, her brows furrowed, concern softening her features. “You good? Do you want to take a break?”

You blinked, trying to pull yourself out of the fog. “Huh? Sorry, what was the question?”

She tilted her head, studying you carefully. “Do you need a break? You look kinda out of it.”

Your heart was still racing, but you forced a tight smile. “Yeah, that would be great.” You stood up from the couch, barely meeting her eyes as you made a beeline for the bathroom.

Once inside, you shut the door behind you and leaned heavily against the sink, gripping its edges like it could anchor you to reality. Your reflection stared back, wide-eyed and flushed, like you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

This is NOT happening. You mentally shouted at yourself, trying to shake the feeling off. *You’ve known her for years. The moment you start sleeping with her is the moment you catch feelings? Seriously?*

You turned on the tap, splashing cold water onto your face, hoping the chill would snap you out of it, wash away the thoughts clinging to your mind. But as the water dripped from your chin, pooling at the edges of the sink, the tightness in your chest remained.

Staring at your reflection, you whispered under your breath, “Get it together.”

But no matter how many times you repeated it, the weight of what you were feeling didn’t budge.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before stepping out of the bathroom. The moment you did, you saw Vi in the living room, methodically packing up the filming equipment. The casual ease with which she moved, like this was just another normal day, only made the knot in your chest tighten.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice sounding steadier than you felt.

Vi glanced up, pausing as she turned off the camera. “I think we’ve got enough material for today—maybe even the whole video,” she said, her tone light but tinged with something softer, more careful. “I can see you’re tired. I’ll come over tomorrow, and we can go through the footage, see what we can use. For now, you should rest.”

Her words were simple, but the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips wasn’t. It wasn’t just the usual smirk or playful grin—it was something else. Genuine concern. And that look … it hit you like a sucker punch.

Because all you could think about was how easy it would be to want this every day. To have her not just in fleeting moments, not just in casual touches or hurried nights. But fully. Completely. The idea burrowed itself deeper into your mind, wrapping around your thoughts like vines.

“Yeah,” you forced out, your voice quieter than before. “That sounds good.”

Vi gave you one last glance, like she wanted to say something more, but instead, she just nodded, slinging her bag over her shoulder before heading for the door. The soft click of it shutting behind her echoed louder than it should have.

And then it was just you. Alone.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the now-empty room, expecting some sense of relief to wash over you. But it didn’t. If anything, the silence made it worse.

You should’ve been able to crash the moment she left, but sleep was the last thing your body wanted. You were confused, frustrated—mad at yourself, mad at her, for making you feel this way. Your body felt heavy, physically exhausted, but your mind was running on overdrive, replaying every glance, every touch, every word she’d said.

You sank onto the couch, rubbing your hands over your face.

You’d told yourself from the start—this was supposed to be casual.Just a way to blow off steam, nothing more. But somewhere along the way, those lines had blurred, and now you didn’t know how to pull yourself back from the edge.

──────────────────────

masterlist - chapter ten

taglist: @saturnhas82moons @oidloid @vaebear @wicked-laugh @baylegend6 @nomarksonelegance @antobooh @80saturn

#vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi arcane #arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x reader #arcane x you #lily writes

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