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finsplurtz · 11 months ago

Note

hello! may I request a subbot afab hawks x domtop amab reader?

idk what trope to pick bc I have so many ideas, but if you're comfortable with it, could it be a sugarbaby x sugardaddy reader AU? maybe with some praise and breeding?

feel free to ignore lol (love your fics btw <3)

— GUYS NEWSFLASH first time writing ftm character hahaha erm i hope i didn’t fuck this up😢😢🙏🙏 (i lvoe dis requets)

something more — keigo.takami

— dom ! male.reader x ftm ! sub ! Keigo Takami

— contents : afab ! Hawks , use of pussy cunt clit and stuff…. Sugardaddy reader , tooo much yap , hawks falls in love with u… er praising , a bit of breeding kink , u might get him pregnant actually…, :( ending..

warnings : love NOT reciprocated sowwy

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Hawks waved flirtatiously at a guy walking by to try and get his attention, he scoffed after the guy payed no mind to him. He got a cigarette out and patted himself to try and find his lighter..where could it have gone…

he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to see .. you. Took him a bit but he apologized and took the lighter from your hands.

“thank you..! uh where was it..?” he nervously, struggling to light his cigarette up.

“you left it behind at the bar.” you took the lighter and lit it for the blonde.

“ah..thank you..” he smiled looking away.

“Ya know, you’re a pretty thing. I noticed you at the bar and was going to talk to you but I looked away for a second and the next, you were gone haha” you chuckled dipping your hands into your pockets.

“uh yeah sorry I was…I just needed to take in some fresh air” he seemed a bit more calmer than he was a second ago- he couldn’t get anyone else to pay his drink. that’s why he left the bar.

“mhh. well. I was wondering if maybe I could spend a night with you?” Hawks perked up and looked at you. You were….tall and handsome..you had a nice face…��.

“sorry I don’t go around and—“

You held out 200$ to him, waiting for him to take it. “how ‘bout it?” you look at him and smirk.

one night..couldn’t be bad plus, 200 dollars??

“alright then, mister.” He takes the money and smiles at you.

well that’s how you met keigo. after one night you proposed the idea of being his sugar daddy and since the sex wasn’t bad at all, and you paid good money, there was no harm!

overtime you guys became very fond of each other, you weren’t just some cash pig to him, you were special. but to you…..he was sure he was just a fuck toy for you.

you weren’t that old, you had great looks so- why haven’t you gotten a wife? or husband?? a great business guy like you would’ve had someone special by his side by now.

“hey yn…would you ever want to start a family at some point?” Hawks asked. He was sat on your large couch in small shorts and a loose top.

you looked at him and flashed him a smile. “someday, but not now” you were working on your laptop, you kept typing away.

“hmm…” he stood up and walked over to where you were and sat next to you, cuddling your arm.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he hid his smile at the pet name. he shook his head and you chuckled.

the way you treated him was as if he were your special person, you always took care of him. his place wasn’t so safe and it quite frankly- disgusted you… so you insisted he moved in with you. you always paid for him, got him what he wanted, in return he’d let you use him in bed for however long you wanted to.

not only that, but aftercare was amazing. you treated him like if he were made of glass, gentle with him when you bathed him, gentle kisses every now and then. he fought the urge everyday to tell you he loved you because he knew this wasn’t that kind of relationship.

but he started to fall for you. badly. at one point he didn’t really want your money anymore, he just wanted to be there for you and for you to be there for him.

it was about to be a year since you guys started this…thing you guys had going on and he decided to be straight up with his feelings, just tell you. That anniversary or whatever, you took him out to eat like any other day and got him a couple gifts, he was extremely happy and confident things would go well. He was hoping that maybe you guys could be something more than.. this. I mean you already act like a couple! There’s no way he could be wrong..

you guys got back home drunk as hell, laughing and shoving each other around. There was absolutely no fucking way you didn’t like this guy….then again you could just be the devil in disguise

your hands roamed his smaller body while you kissed and fought for dominance. He was losing himself in the pleasure, he had to tell you he just had to..

“uh- yn wait I…need to..” you kissed his neck and sucked on it, he moaned under you and grabbed at your hair. he pulled you off and you looked at him confused.

“I just need to…t..tell…” his words started to get stuck in his throat, nothing was coming out why couldn’t he just spill it out.

“you’re so cute Kei, baby…” you sat up and removed his pants as he squirmed, propped his legs on your shoulder and kissed the inside of his thighs.

“ahh..yn p..please let mhh..~” his back arched at the feeling of your mouth on his cunt. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system that made this all the more enjoyable, but he figured he’d tell you after you guys were done.

he pushed his hair back and gasped when you slid your fingers into his loose hole, all while lapping at his clit. He was crumbling underneath you, his hands pulling harshly on your hair as he squirmed and moaned at the pleasure.

“F-fuck! I’ll c..com..~” he bit his bottom lip, his lower half twitched as he came intensely, His hands letting go of your hair.

You sat up and prodded your cock at his entrance, teasing it over his sensitive clit making him flinch.

“w…wait…no condo-..mm…?” He looked so out of it and cute covering his cunt with his hand.

“what…don’t want my babies…?” you coo gently taking his hand off and leaning down into his ear.

“we’d make the cutest babies..” you harshly grab his hips and slam into him earning a scream from the younger male. He shouldn’t have found that as hot as he did, he’s holding onto you and biting your shoulder as you violate his stupid cunt.

He’s asking you to slow down as best as he can but you ignore him and continue to chase your orgasm. You almost completely stop when he whispers into your ear, an ‘I love you’.

It sounded desperate and whiny, you sit back up, not looking at his face. You look down at your dick, engulfed in the blondes pussy, you push his legs closer to his face and grab his hands, placing them on the back of his knees.

He hold them tightly, so many thoughts running through his little head.

Did you ignore him just now?

Your big hands spread his cunt and you slowly push all the way in, a stretched out whimper leaving Kei.

“Soo pretty, hon….aren’t you such a good boy for me..” you smirk to yourself, your thumb rubbing his clit gently. You grab his legs and move them aside to finally look at his face again.

His face was red and sweaty, tears running down his sad face, droll peaking out of his mouth.

“You’d do anything I asked…wouldn’t you, dear..?” You caressed his face, wiping his dumb tears away. He just stared into your lustful eyes before slowly nodding and smiling.

“Thats right, baby. Your pretty self belongs to me.” You tilt his head and begin to mark his neck as you continued to fuck into his twitching pussy.

He’s losing himself, those dumb thoughts about you not loving him still lurked in his mind. Of course you love him! You love him so much that you want to start a family with him, take care of whatever he needs for the rest of his life. He loves you more.

He’s all smiles and giggles that he doesn’t realize that he agreed to letting you finish inside him, till he feels your hot semen shoot inside of him.

His smile slowly falls, his heartbeat speeding up.

“…y…yn…?” You sit up and pull out, grinning at how your cum spills out of keigo’s cute pussy.

“what? take some pills, dear. You’ll be fine.” You kiss his forehead ignoring the tears that fell from him as he touches his tummy.

“what was it that you wanted to tell me? I’ve got something I wanna say to” you smile and lay down next to his smaller figure, he’s staring at the ceiling, you keep looking at his side profile waiting for him to answer.

“I….don’t have anything to say…” he says tiredly. He finally looks at you waiting for what you were gonna say.

“Hm..i met someone who could join us next time. He’s real cute I think you guys could really get along! Don’t worry though, kei. You’re still my favorite baby…” you smile, exhausted, you kiss the blonde one more time before pulling him into a hug.

“….what…?”

a/n; you guys rlly like hawks y’all are FREAKS (i love him more)

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anaon-ash · 3 months ago

Text

☠︎︎🕸𖤐 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𖤐🕸 ☠︎︎

𝙃𝙖𝙢𝙯𝙖𝙝𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙓𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧! 𝙩𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙘 𝙚𝙭 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝘼𝙐

Contains: Explicit language, Gaslighting, Use of pet names, Use of Y/N, Drugs/Alcohol, Smut (Established Relationship obviously)

Summary: Hamzah sits outside of your house at 2am and texts you from a text now number (you blocked him lol). He asks you to come outside and invites you over for a drink and a blunt and to talk, but you know exactly where this is really going and you fold anyways.

Authors note:THIS IS SUPERR LONG so im sorry, i was rlly scared to publish this as this is my first written work on tumblr so i really hope you all like it and let me know how you feel about it! enjoy it, freak

The quiet rumble of the engine of Hamzahs car reverberates throughout the silent neighborhood in the early hours of the night before it stops in front of your house. He picks up his phone and navigates to the text now app, his finger hovers above it, unsure if he should go through with his intentions tonight.

You and Hamzah struggle staying away from each other, you dated for 2 months before you had your first of MANY breakups, on and off. He was toxic, and that brought out the worst in you. It felt like it impossible to go a week without arguing and you could never really pinpoint if it was your fault or his, he’s a manipulator, possessive and controlling of you and you hate it. You hate that you can’t do anything, you hate that somehow ALL of your friends are bad for you, you hate how he talks to you, you hate how he hurts you and does something that makes it ok then you forgive him just as quickly as it happened. And you especially hate that you know all of this and somehow you keep falling for it.

That’s why you weren’t surprised when you heard a notification that woke you up at 2 am.

————————

Unknown Number

“Come outside.”

“Who is this?”

“You know exactly who this is, come outside y/n”

“I just want to talk.”

————————

“Oh my fucking god.”

You set your phone down and ran your hands through your hair, balling your fists up in the strands. You dont know if you can forgive him after what happened in your last argument that led up to yet another breakup.. And honestly…You dont know if you can take this splitting up and reconciliation cycle anymore either.

You drop your hands to your sides and sigh loudly.

“If i go out there… it’s going to be to end whatever we have going on… i can’t do this anymore.”

You sit up and grab your phone, sliding your feet into the slippers by your bed, they were soft and provided you something to use to ground yourself.. to remind yourself that this time, isn’t going to be like the last times..

You take a deep breath and walk downstairs, grabbing your house keys from your coffee table and softly closing and locking the door behind you. Stepping outside you feel the cold breeze of the beginnings of a blizzard.

It was dark, only the light from the lampposts outside and hamzahs headlights were visible. Slowly You began to walk to his car, psyching yourself up into being strong and setting boundaries for once.

You lightly tap on the window, and hamzahs gaze meets yours, the corners of his mouth pulling into a smirk before pressing the button to unlock the door.

“Hey.” his voice calm and laced with something softer than normal. “Hi hamzah.” You reply stedily, closing the door and plopping down into the seat.

You missed this car, it was an older beat up red honda with lord knows how many miles on it and lord knows how many memories. The cloth on the seats were covered in burn holes from all of the joints and cigarettes smoked in it, and it smelled like those same cigs poorly covered up by one of those little trees you put on your rear-view mirror.

You look around and you can still see the reminants of the stickers you put on his dash and notice he still has the poloroid picture of you and him still on his sun-visor.

Both of you sit in silence for a moment, simply taking each other in, he’s wearing black sweats and a stupid hoodie with the words“nap queen” on it. His hair is just finally starting to grow out after he shaved it and bleached it blonde, its definitely one of his best looks.

“How are you..?” He finally asks after a pause “Hamzah. please.. I came here to talk and talk only. Don’t try to make this into something it isn’t.” You cautioned, sounding more like you were trying to convince yourself more than him.

“I didnt want to feel like a divorced couple begrudgingly speaking to each other over the shared custody of their kids” Hamzah chuckled

“I was hoping this could be casual and we could maybe smoke a little” he smiled before pulling a joint and mini bottles of alcohol out of the middle console “And I have some shots too if you’re down.”

“I dont know hamzah..” You mumbled “Come on y/n.. This doesn’t have to be hard.” He pleaded, slightly tilting his head to the side and gazing into your eyes “we can take it easy..”

He was so good with his words, so good at convincing you of anything..

You bit the skin off your lip and looked away at the ground and thought about his proposal before you hesitantly agreed. “Fine. But im serious. im only here to talk about what happened and…”

You clench your jaw before stopping yourself from speaking.. There’s no way you can tell him you want to go no contact right now right off the bat.. Maybe after a joint and a few shots you’ll have a bit more courage.

“And?” he questioned. “Nothing.” You stated, before you took the 2 mini bottles of fireball from his hand and downed them, his eyes widened and looked at you clearly shocked “okay! yeah! that works.”

He quipped, placing the joint between his lips and lighting it cautiously. The lighter illuminated his features with a soft orange glow, highlighting his plump lips, his sharp jaw, and focused eyes. He takes a few puffs trying to get the ember to catch before handing it to you and placing his hand non-chalantly behind the headrest of your seat.

Hamzah watches intently as you take your first toke and inhale, the smoke filling your lungs almost without any control before you exhale, coughing and gasping before you grab the nearest room temperature half dranken waterbottle in his cupholder and guzzle it down.

You could see hamzah stupidly grinning in your peripheral vision at your reaction and you couldn’t help but to crack your first smile since you entered his car.

You felt the tension you first had, start to dissipate and the energy of the space changed into something else, something more relaxed. The weed and the alcohol were combining into something beyond you.

“There you go.. that’s the pretty girl I know..” Hamzah softly spoke, there was a permanent smile etched onto your face and you didn’t even realize it..he reached out and lightly took the joint from your fingers, your hands slightly grazing one another.

in your excited state, it felt like lightning, all your senses were amplified by 100 and you could feel.. everything. your ankles slightly exposed from your pjs, the breeze of the heater, the texture of the armrest, and hamzahs scent, you felt so much all at once, and you didn’t know how to handle it.

Hamzah puts the joint back into his mouth and takes a few more puffs before rolling down the window and putting it out on the outside of his door, You hiss at the temperature change, the harsh wind numbing the tips of your fingers and chilling the front of your face.

“sorry..” he replied, a lopsided grin tugging on the corners of his lips as the effects begin to take hold of him as well

“M’k lets talk…” You say, trying to remind yourself why you’re here. “More casual now.. according to your wishes.” You say sarcastically

“Yes.. more casually now.” He quips back “First… I wanted to say that im sorry for our fight.. And im sorry for the way that I talked to you.. I should’ve listened to you. And im sorry for lying to you too.. I wont even try to defend staying out so late and not telling you where I go, and im sorry for taking advantage of the trust you had for me, I never purposely wanted to hurt you princess..” he confessed, and without warning you feel the corners of your eyes start to sting and then start to well up with tears from his words.

“You mean the absolute world to me and no late night out or time with friends can ever compare to how much i value you, you’re an amazing woman and im only rough with you because I love you.. I love you so much and I can’t help it, I can’t help how selfish I am..how much I need you.. I promise it was a stupid mistake ill never make again. I can’t lose you.” Hamzahs hand reached out to your face, his calloused touch sending shivers down your body and a familiar heat beginning to build within yourself. “Give me another chance.. Just one more… I wont hurt you like this ever again.” Hamzah pleaded, wiping the tears from your eyes.

You could barely think anymore.. the combination of the alcohol and weed, his words and his touch, it was all so overwhelming, your heart is racing and your whole body felt like it was vibrating, you knew this was just another apology, the same ones he gives just before doing the same shit again a couple of days later, but its almost as if your mouth seemed to speak before you could think, or maybe… You believed it.

“Okay…” you say nearly breathlessly, both of you sat in silence, just staring at one another, all that you could hear was the music softly playing from the radio and the combined sound of you twos heavy breathing.

His hand moved down to your jaw, his thumb grazing over the soft skin of your lips, dipping slightly into your mouth before spreading your spit over them, and you cant help the groan that escapes your lips, every single touch feels like fire on your skin.

Hamzah noticed your desperation and stifles a chuckle, teasingly, he brings his lips to your cheek, moving down to place kisses along your jawline. You inhale sharply at the sensation, his mouth moving down to your neck, where he started to suck and nibble on the sensitive area, leaving searing marks in their wake, a slow gentle exhale escapes your lips.

Hamzah pulled away, admittedly looking very different, he was completely focused on you, his heavy-lidded eyes filled with an animalistic, desperate energy from your body responding to his touch, he wanted to consume you, to explore every little bit of you, and he didn’t need to tell you he did.

“C’mere..” he mumbled before his lips crashed against yours, both of you moaning into the kiss.

His hands roamed your body like they were trying to memorize every inch of your skin, it felt like lava against you, your spine arched as you took in the taste of weed and his mint gum and his cologne invading your senses.

His teeth grazed your lower lip, biting it and taking it in his mouth as you suck on his upper lip, your tongues danced together, fighting for dominance, and your hands began to wonder too, making their way to the growing bulge in Hamzahs pants.

you palm his errection from the outside of his sweat pants, feeling him taking in a shaky breath from the new-found friction.

“F-fuck.. your hands feel so much better than mine.” He whined against your lips, his hips lifting to meet your touch as his grip on your waist tighten.

“Yeah? you like when i touch you like this?” you whispered.

“Mhm” Hamzah managed to barely hum. “God i missed you so much..”

You giggle at his admission and suddenly stop moving your hand.

“Wh- whyd you stop?” he looks at you with desperation.

“Lets go to the back..” a sultry smile playing on your face, as you turn to climb into the back, you feel a sharp slap across the soft of your ass which earns him a yelp.

“What was that for??” “For making me lose my self control.”

Smirking, you plop yourself down into the seat and wait for hamzah to meet you, after he climbs into the back he pulls you onto his lap and grips your waist, pulling you down onto the tent in his pants, rocking your hips back and forth and his meeting yours trying to find a rhythm.

The both of you are trying not to lose control, slowly grinding yourselves onto one another, hamzahs breathing becoming more unsteady as quiet curses flow from his lips.

“Mmhm baby.. you’re doing so good for me.. just like that..”

His soft praises filled your stomach with butterflies and made you bite your lip.

Your next kiss was sloppy, messy, and desperate, the drugs were making even just grinding on one another feel so so good, you both moaned into eachothers mouths as he guided you to move quicker and with more pressure onto his dick.

He tugged at the waistband of your pjs before pulling down, practically trying to rip it off of you.

“Take these off, now.”

You obliged and lifted your legs up, not even bothering to take it all the way off as the fabric pooled around one ankle, and Hamzah took his off just as quickly, leaving the only thing separating you two being thin pieces of fabric.

You felt your own slick leaking through, coating his clothed cock as you throw your head back.

“There.. you.. go… does my big dick feel good on that pretty.. clit of yours?”

he managed to choke out through groans of pleasure.

“Y-yes.. fuck- yes Hamzah..”

“i can’t take it anymore i need to be inside of you, you’re soaking my Cock.”

He roughly grabs your ass and digs his fingers into the fabric of your underwear before ripping it off of you and roughly pulling his cock through the hole of his boxers, he sits you down on it and moves your hips forward and backwards.

You feel the heat radiating off of him as you slide along his member, the feeling of it rubbing against your clit was almost enough to make you cum on top of him.

“fuck- i can’t- its too much..” you cry out

“you can take it..i know you can.. i know it feels good, i know….”

“i need you so bad” You pant.

“Then watch it go in.. inch by inch, baby.”

He aims the tip of his dick up to your opening and slides it slowly in, it’s a tight fit and you can feel him filling you and stretching out until you reach the base.

Both of you sigh at the feeling of shared pleasure, his eyes are unfocused, glossy, breathing ragged, and he’s holding onto you tight.

“Wait.. wait..dont- oh god..don’t move, i’m so close already- i didn’t think you would be so tight..” he confessed

You wait a bit before you slowly start to ride him, adjusting to his size every movement is hitting your g spot in just the right place, Hamzah pulls you close and raises your shirt up to take your breast into his mouth, sucking on your nipple as he thrusts into you.

You scream out in ecstasy, unable to form a sentence only letting out lewd sounds.

“Does this feel good?”

“Hah- ah-“ You nod your head yes

“Use your words baby.. tell me how good i make you feel..” Hamzah groaned

“I-cant… think..im so- im gonna-“

“cum for me.. cum all over my dick princess, it’s all yours, i’m here..”

And with that, you lose all sense of control and the coil deep inside of you finally gives way as pleasure overtakes your body, your walls flutter and tighten around him while a cry escapes your throat.

You throw your head back and dig your nails into his chest and he simply holds you tighter as he fucks you harder and nears his climax

blinding white pleasure engulfs your senses and you can’t control your legs closing tightly to try to stop the overstimulation, but that only fuels his aggression as he forces them open with his free hand and starts to rub circles around your clit with his thumb.

“mhm- fuck- good girl.. take this dick..” he curses under his breath “you’re making me feel so good…im getting so c-close..”

the rhythm you two managed to create became staggered, as his hips lagged behind, his breaths became shallow and quickened and you knew his peak was coming quickly

“y/n- i can’t.. i-im cumming” hamzah moans before he cries out, cumming inside of you and pumping thick ropes of cum along your walls, coating them white with each twitch.

You both ride out your climax before collapsing on one another, chests heaving and basking in the after sex glow, while the sounds of the radio comes back into focus. Hamzah rubs the small of your back slowly, some time passes in silence of catching your breath before you break the silence.

“We cant keep doing this.”

“Why not? it seems to work out just fine every time” He smirks

You roll your eyes and sigh knowing you’re never going to escape him.

I hope you guys liked it! please leave your thoughts in the comments and of course any feedback, i’d love to know what i could change ! 😸😸 also let me know if you’d like shorter or longer stories too!!

#Spotify #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah x reader #slushy noobz #slushynoobz #hamzah fic #hamzah x y/n #hamzah smut #ns/fw #female writers #i love hamzah #hamzahsmut #hamzah angst #hamzah al emad #hamzah imagines

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obvithe-bestsoph · 11 days ago

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Can you write one for Kenan Yildiz where he's obssessed with reader lips and always kiss her every time he can

obsessed.

masterlist requests word count: 1080

a/n: this is like kinda cringe but also kinda cute so we're just going with it lol genre: fluff warnings: i mean, they kiss a lot, but nothing graphic.

summary: kenan is obsessed with your lips.

You can feel him watching you again.

It's not new, not even surprising anymore. You’re used to the way his gaze always lingers on you like he’s trying to memorize every detail. But it’s different when it’s your lips. He stares with this quiet kind of intensity that makes it hard to keep a straight face.

You’re sitting on the couch in his apartment, tucked into the corner with a hoodie that definitely doesn’t belong to you. It’s one of his, oversized and worn soft at the sleeves, smelling like whatever cologne he spritzed on hours ago. You’ve got your legs pulled up, blanket over your lap, and you’re trying to focus on the movie playing on the TV.

Kenan is not helping.

At first, it’s subtle. His thumb traces along your hand, then your wrist, until his fingers are grazing your jaw. You glance at him, catching his eyes drop to your mouth again, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“You’re doing it again,” you tease.

His lips curve up into a slow smile, like he’s not even gonna try denying it. “Can’t help it,” he says simply, voice low, a little amused. “You make it impossible.”

You roll your eyes, though your cheeks go warm. “It’s just a mouth.”

He shakes his head like you’ve offended him. “It’s your mouth.”

“Oh, well. That explains everything,” you say dryly, but he just leans in like you’ve laid down an open invitation.

The kiss is soft. He always starts soft, like he wants to take his time, like he’s trying to savor something. And even though he’s kissed you a thousand times by now, each one still feels kind of sacred. Like he’s reminding himself that you’re real.

He pulls back after a moment, resting his forehead against yours. “I missed you today.”

“You saw me this morning,” you say, laughing a little, even though your heart does this dumb fluttery thing.

“Too long ago,” he murmurs, kissing you again, barely a brush this time. “And you wore that stupid lip balm that makes me think about you all day.”

Your laugh catches in your throat. “So now it’s the lip balm’s fault?”

“Mhm,” he hums with zero hesitation, and you bury your face into his shoulder to hide the smile threatening to take over.

This isn’t a one-time thing, either. You’ve caught onto his pattern.

Every time you talk too long, he ends up distracted, zoning out mid-conversation because your mouth moved a certain way. Every time you wear gloss, he kisses it off before you even leave the house. If you bite your lip out of habit, he stops whatever he’s doing to come over and kiss you like it’s urgent, like you’re some kind of problem he needs to solve with his mouth.

Even in public, he doesn’t hold back. A quick kiss before he heads to training. A longer one when he gets back, barely through the door before he’s pulling you close again. It’s like his lips have a magnetic field, and yours are the center of gravity.

You mention it one afternoon, curled up with him after he got home, legs tangled under the sheets and sunlight filtering in through the blinds.

“You’ve got an actual addiction,” you mumble, voice still sleepy.

Kenan grins, lazy and smug. “I’d say obsession. Sounds more romantic.”

“You kiss me constantly.”

“Exactly,” he says. “Romantic.”

You poke his chest. “Do I even get a say?”

“Too late,” he replies, dipping his head to kiss your collarbone. “You’re already mine.”

It’s even worse when he’s in a mood. After a good match, or a rough day, or any day that ends in y, really.

One evening, he comes back from a media event, looking exhausted, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly tousled from running his fingers through it too much. You’re sitting on the counter eating strawberries when he walks in and sees you. Something in him softens immediately.

He doesn’t even say hi. Just drops his bag, walks straight over, and stands between your knees.

“I love you,” he says, voice a little rough.

You blink. “I love you too. You okay?”

He nods, already leaning in. “I just missed you.”

You taste the faintest hint of mint when he kisses you. It’s slow, deep, like he’s pouring everything he didn’t say today into you now. You slide your hands into his hair and let him take his time. When he finally pulls back, there’s a slight dazed look in his eyes.

“You’re so soft,” he says quietly, brushing his thumb across your lower lip. “It drives me crazy.”

“You’re actually insane,” you whisper, laughing.

“For you? Completely,” he says, and you don’t doubt it for a second.

Sometimes it’s not about needing. It’s about comfort.

Like when you’re quiet, withdrawn, and overthinking something. Kenan always knows. He doesn’t push. He just sits beside you, holds your hand, and waits.

And then, without fail, he kisses you.

A grounding one. Not heated or needy. Just lips pressed to yours, slow and reassuring. Like he’s saying, “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

You don’t know how he always knows when to do it. You’ve stopped questioning it.

One night, it’s pouring rain, and you’re both wide awake for no reason. You’re standing by the window, watching droplets race down the glass, hoodie pulled over your head, your socks half-slipping off your feet.

Kenan walks up behind you, wraps his arms around your waist, and kisses your temple. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re sappy.”

“You’re mine,” he says against your cheek.

You turn in his arms, eyebrows raised. “Are you ever gonna get tired of kissing me?”

He pretends to think about it for a second. “No.”

“Not even a little?”

“Not even if I tried,” he says, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I think I was built to kiss you.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s hopeless. Your stomach flips anyway.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he teases, lips brushing against yours again. “You’re the one who started this.”

“I didn’t start anything.”

“You looked at me once,” he says seriously. “And now I’m doomed.”

“Doomed to kiss me forever?”

He nods solemnly. “It’s a burden I’ll gladly bear.”

You laugh into his mouth as he kisses you again, rain still tapping gently against the window, the world outside forgotten.

Let him kiss you all he wants. He’s never going to stop.

And honestly, you don’t want him to.

#kenan yildiz #kenan #kenan yildiz fic #obvithebestsoph!kenan #kenan yildiz x reader #juventus #turkey #fanfiction #football #football fic #bianconeri #KY10 #Spotify

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kingkat12 · 9 months ago

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Hiii !! I don’t know if you’re still doing Roman Godfrey imagines but if u are can u do Husband!Roman he just have gotten back from work after a hard day & u guys have a smoke session than things take a turn & u two have rough sex?? (U can do your things with the smut I can’t really think of anything 😂🫶🏽 but ty !!)

if i'm still doing Roman Godfrey imagines... IF I'M STILL DOING ROMAN GODFREY IMAGINES??? it's all i ever do, sweetheart🙈💜 i fucking loved writing this and i hope i've done your wish justice!! it took a different turn than expected, but this only means i might have to revisit this tihi... and it's the first bj i've ever written lol so hope it went well! ENJOY!!🌸

silk tie (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, bondage, oral sex (female receiving), blowjob, suit-fetish, smoking

summary: your husband has had quite the day... and now he's adamant about making it a little better

word count: 4,347

I hadn't noticed Roman was home before I walked past the balcony.

It was about three in the morning, which was an odd time for him to return from work. Or had he arrived back earlier?-- I had been asleep, so there was no way for me to know. I never waited up for him anymore, as he was usually either grumpy or completely exhausted. He wouldn't exactly take it out on me, but I was still unsure how to deal with his mood swings ever since his upir cravings got worse.

Maybe our marriage wasn't perfect, but it had its moments. Moments such as these.

I watched as Roman leaned against the balcony railing, clearly deep in thought as he smoked a cigarette. He was still wearing his suit, not having bothered to get out of his work attire. On top of that, it was clear that he had been ripping at his hair because it looked like an absolute mess. With quiet steps, I joined his side, not saying a word. I could only look at him, revel in the upward curve of his nose, the pout of his lips, and the way he lazily balanced the cigarette between his fingers.

"Hey, gorgeous," I said, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. "How are you?"

Roman hummed, exhaling a cloud of smoke through his nose. It was clear that his mind was elsewhere. "I've been here for fifteen minutes and this is my sixth cigarette. I think I'm slowly going insane,"

It wasn't unusual for Roman to get into these depressive ruts-- it would often happen when work got a little crazy and Pryce wouldn't get off his case. "You're not going insane," I stepped away from the balcony, wrapping my arms around my husband from behind. "You just need to get some sleep... Come to bed." My words were muffled against his broad back, pressing a kiss through his suit.

Roman sighed, running his free hand over my fingers, feeling how small I was against him. "I already slept an hour in my office,"

Typical. "An hour isn't enough,"

"Well, I'm not sleepy anymore, and that's all that counts," Roman stumped the cigarette against the railing, another sigh escaping him. "But don't let me keep you up."

I nuzzled my face against his back, inhaling the scent of his cologne; I had missed him today. "I don't want to go back to bed without my husband,"

"It wouldn't be the first time,"

I rolled my eyes-- enough was enough. His self-deprecation could be downright annoying sometimes, mostly because he was more stubborn than a donkey. "Talk to me, Rome, what's on your mind?"

Roman gave in, turning to me. Like this, I could see the way the bags under his eyes had darkened since this morning and the way his eyelids were halfway drooped into a look of exhaustion. "It just... hit me today that all my ties are silk,"

"... What?"

"Silk," Roman echoed, and he had a hollow look about him as he wrapped his arms around me. He put his head on top of mine before burying his nose in my hair, inhaling sharply. "The devil wrapped in silk is still the devil."

It didn't take long for me to realize that he was talking about his urges again. "You're not the devil, Roman," I drew small circles on his back, hoping to soothe him. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd had something to drink on top of this. "You're working through it and you're doing well. Do you not realize that?"

He hummed; "It's just not fair to you," Roman's hands went up in my hair, pulling me tighter against his chest. "I want to grow old with you, but sometimes I wonder whether it was a good decision to get married... Whether I shouldn't have been selfish enough to drag you down with me."

I put my hands against his chest, slowly pushing myself away. This was a different speech from his usual sad ones-- this was new. "... What are you saying?"

Exasperated, Roman groaned as he turned away from me, leaning over the railing once more. He dragged his hands through his hair, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "I don't-- I don't know, okay? I just want Pryce's treatments to work, to be rid of whatever the fuck I've become, and just... Fuck! I hear the beating of my heart all the time and it's driving me fucking crazy!" He drove his elbows down against the surface, covering his ears as though it would help.

My body was begging for me to go back to sleep, but my heart was actively shattering at the sight of Roman so broken. I took slow steps towards him; with wary movements, my fingers dipped into the jacket of his suit, fishing out a pack of cigarettes. My other hand went into the front pocket of his trousers, fishing out his lighter. I wasn't the biggest endorser of smoking, but I knew exactly why Roman did it-- it slowed down his heart, making it easier to bear the constant sound of his blood pulsing through his veins.

I put the cigarette between my lips, now feeling Roman's glossy eyes on me. Lighting it, taking a rather long drag myself, I made my way between his arms. I balanced the cigarette between my fingers, holding it up in front of his mouth, and it didn't take long before he accepted it, wrapping his plush lips around it with a satisfied sigh.

Something about the look of relief on Roman's face gave my heart the ease it had needed all day. Knowing I could be the one to soothe him, to bring him down from his panic, assured me that we were good for each other after all.

I reached out for his tie, feeling the silk between the pads of my fingers. "When you're not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives," My hands left his tie, now resting against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart against my palm. "You've cut your tongue so many times that when life hands you a flower, you can't quite make out what it is. It takes time, Roman. Marriage takes time."

The smoke from the cigarette wrapped around us like a warm duvet, the warm summer breeze blowing it away with soft strokes. A kind, subtle smile spread across Roman's lips, finding solace in my words. His free hand traveled down to rest against the small of my back, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against my forehead. "Sometimes at work, I have thoughts of simply dissolving into you," he murmured, pulling away to take another drag before continuing. "It's unexplainable, but the thought is always there... and there's nothing I want more than that."

I let out the breath I had been holding, glad to see him calm again. "Are we talking sex?"

The laugh that followed made my heart sing; "You'd think so, but that's not how I meant it," Roman took a final drag, putting out the cigarette and tossing it away somewhere. "Although... I could mean it like that."

"Of course you could," I got up on my toes to give his neck a sweet kiss, knowing I couldn't reach up to his face. "But I think our first priority would be to get some sleep, and then we'll see what we can do in the morning if we have time."

Roman bit his lower lip, suppressing a cheeky grin. His green eyes sparkled with the familiar look of want, and I immediately knew he was up to no good. "I have to disagree... I think the first priority would be to get you out of my shirt,"

My eyes widened-- I had forgotten that I was wearing it. In my defense, it was easier to fall asleep when he was away if I wore it. "What, you want it back or something?"

"No," Roman's voice dropped as his hands went down to grab at my waist. "Just want it off."

"It's three in the morning!--"

"And since when did we care about that?" He didn't even try to suppress his growing smirk anymore, and I watched his pupils dilate in real time as ideas soared through his dirty, dirty mind. It didn't take much time before Roman took my hand into his, bringing it up to his mouth to press a wet kiss against my knuckles. My breath hitched, having missed the sensation of his lips against my body. But suddenly, he lowered my hand and pressed it up against himself, leaving me breathless and in shock.

Roman gave in to a laugh at the expression on my face, leaning down to press a kiss against the underside of my jaw. "Are you really going to deny me when I'm in a suit? That always works like a killer on you,"

And he was definitely right about that-- everything about him right now made me want to jump him. "Who said anything about denying you?" I mumbled, rubbing him through his trousers, my fingers feeling along each divot and ridge of his length. Swallowing hard, I realized I could feel him grow harder beneath my palm. "I just don't think we should be doing this on the balcony..."

Roman hummed, a low moan vibrating in his chest; "Yeah, good idea," I barely had time to register what was happening before his big arms wrapped around me, hoisting me over his shoulder as I yelped. It always surprised me that he could lift me as though I weighed nothing, and I laughed against his back as he made his way back into the house with a strong grip around me.

"Rome, for fuck's sake!" I couldn't stop the trail of giggles escaping me, happy to see this side of my husband again. "You can't be serious-- Hey!" The squeak that escaped me was unlike anything I had heard coming from my mouth before, but how else was I to react as Roman struck his hand against my ass? Something about the sting was both painful and weirdly arousing-- I couldn't put my finger on it. Was this my lack of sleep talking?

Roman proceeded to chuckle, leading us into the bedroom. "Of course I'm serious," It didn't take long before he laid me down on the bed, crawling over to me like a predator. "I'm a serious man, you know me."

"Yeah, right,"

As Roman made space for himself between my legs, I couldn't help but fling my arms around his neck to pull him close. I had waited for him to come home all evening to do just this-- the bliss that filled my body as our lips finally met was unmatched by any other heavenly feeling on earth. "I've wanted you all day," I purred against him, feeling the hardness of his cock twitching against me.

"Don't say that shit," he whispered back, letting out a shaky breath as he raised himself up. "Makes me feel like I'm going to burst."

I bit down a giggle, my hands reaching for him once more. "Oh, come on, it hasn't been that long since last time!"

"... Three days?"

"Three days?!" I could barely believe it-- this was outrageous. Blinking rapidly, I watched as Roman's smirk reappeared, now leaning back down to capture my lips in a soft, passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him and the fabric of his suit. "Well, I've been busy... and you've been out a lot," he murmured against my lips, his hot breath against my mouth making me shiver. "It's almost as though I need to make sure you're always here waiting for me... Because there's no way in hell I'll let another three days pass before I fuck you again."

I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at, but I liked the sound of it. I liked everything about this actually-- his tongue against mine, my hands in his hair, the feeling of our hearts beating at each other through our chests. But suddenly, the weight of him disappeared off me, and before I knew it, Roman's green eyes practically pierced me as he knelt before me, my legs creasing at his thighs.

I knew this look. This look of lust, love, and mischief; I couldn't take my eyes off of him. The way his chest heaved, the way he stared down at me through his brows, and the way the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a smirk made my stomach flutter.

It only dawned on me what Roman actually meant when his hands went up to his tie. Silk. My eyes widened; "Oh God, Rome--"

"Let's strike a deal," he purred, drawing the black tie through his fingers as he licked his lips. "Deal with the devil, if you like. Your little wish for mine."

I nearly shuddered, feeling my pulse quicken. "And what is it that I wish?"

Roman's chuckle was darker than expected. Something told me he had wanted to do this for a while. "I know you have an affinity for my suits, so I'll keep it on. And you... will stay still,"

Stay still? I could only squeal as Roman grabbed my hips, moving me further up the bed with ease. My breaths came out in short, ragged motions as he took my wrists into his big hand, tying them to the headboard with the other. The mix of the situation and my lack of sleep made me light-headed; "Rome," I mewled out against his chest, looking up to try to meet his eyes. I let out a quiet hiss as he tightened the tie around my wrists, watching as he made sure there wasn't much wiggle room.

This was something new.

"Perfect," Roman said, mostly to himself, before taking my face into his hands to press a wet kiss against my lips. "Fuck, this is perfect... Let's just stay like this forever, hm?"

My heart fluttered, and I had to swallow rather hard as he made his way down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses along my body. It was hard to say no to a man towering well over six feet dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit. I squirmed against my restraints, my lashes fluttering as I remembered how sleepy I actually was-- but the tie was tied tightly around my wrists, and there was nowhere for me to go. "Since when do you have the energy to do this at three am?" I tried, hoping to stop my breath from hitching as his hands neared the hem of my shirt.

Roman took his time with giving me a response, his fingers now grazing my bare skin, leaving me shivering with anticipation. "You know you're talking about your husband, right?" he said, pushing my shirt further up as he spoke. "Were three days enough to make you forget that I always have energy for this?"

Before I had the opportunity to answer, Roman leaned down to lick a wet stripe up my stomach. I let out a broken moan, tugging at my restraints once more, squirming beneath him. "Rome, shit--" As he paired his licks up with kisses, I quickly felt my arousal pooling between my legs; there was no going back now.

We had never actually talked about tying me up like this, and I wasn't sure whether this was torturous or pleasurable. All I wanted was to reach down and run my fingers through his hair, tug him closer, feel him-- everything about the denial made me further desperate.

Seeing as I was dressed for bed, I wasn't wearing a bra; something told me that my husband approved. It didn't take long before my shirt was at my arms, Roman's lips wrapped around an aching bud as he sucked at me. I could only write and moan, feeling completely breathless. "I can't-- Fuck, Roman,"

It felt as though the smell of cigarettes swallowed me whole, dragging me deep into the depths of my arousal. My hips bucked up against him, desperate for more, but all my attempts were shut down when Roman grabbed my hips and pinned me down to the bed. "Behave," he said, a low grunt following as his grip on me tightened.

Hearing that word, I knew I was screwed. It suddenly became very, very apparent that Roman was in one of those moods-- this was usually the side of him that would come out when he felt like everything around him was spinning out of control, meaning he had to control the only thing he felt he could; me.

And with me being tied up and all, I couldn't help but comply.

"Sweetheart?" Roman shifted, making sure he had my attention before he sat up. Slowly, his hand inched down to his zipper, a cheeky smirk spreading across his lips. "I've had such a tough day, and seeing you like this is really making it all feel better... But I wanna see how pretty you look with your lips around my cock."

The teasing tone in his low voice was enough to drive me crazy. Along with that, the proper look about him had me struggling to breathe. There was something tantalizing about the fact that America's youngest CEO was right here, married to me, wanting and needing me. So when Roman unzipped his trousers, leading his hard cock to my mouth, I gladly accepted it.

I slid just the tip of my tongue up the underside, so light he could barely feel it-- it was mostly just the sensation of my breath. Judging by the sound of Roman's breath hitching and the slight twitch of his cock, I knew I was on the right track. I gave the tip a gentle kiss before giggling to myself, not having to look up to know he was blushing. "For fuck's sake," he breathed, reaching down to grab a full fist of my hair, pulling me closer.

This was his way of politely saying please.

So I gave in, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock, sucking him in, and tasting the drop of pre-cum that immediately landed on my tongue. It was followed by a downright lewd moan from Roman, who loosened the grip on my hair before throwing his head back just a little. I couldn't help but glance up at him, so prim and proper in his suit, yet completely unraveled by the slightest touch.

And since my hands were tied and I couldn't touch him, I reveled in the fact that I could taste him. Which is why, when Roman pulled out of my mouth with a rather wet pop, I pouted up at him as he made his way back down. But my pout quickly faded as my lips parted, my breath escaping me as he rubbed the tip of his cock over my chest. "You're too damn pretty," Roman said as he stroked himself at the sight of me. "Do you want my mouth on you before we go?"

"Yes, please," The ache between my legs almost burned-- there was nothing I wanted more in the world.

It didn't take long before Roman tucked himself back into his pants and moved down my body with eager kisses, and the anticipation nearly had me panting so hard that I was sure I might pass out. But the tension in my body quickly dissolved as Roman pulled my pyjama shorts aside, licking a wet stripe up my sex, which made my back arch off the bed. My hands strained against the tie, letting out a weak groan-- I was dying to bury my hands in his hair.

"You're already so wet," Roman purred, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my clit. "Could've fucked you already." His fingers dug into my hips to hold me down, sucking me in as his lips covered my mound. It felt so intense, that I could barely hear my own thoughts; I heaved in sharp breaths of air, squeezing my eyes shut as I struggled against my restraints. It only got worse when Roman's tongue slid over my sopping entrance, entering me, fucking me-- I was sure I was dreaming.

It was too much. Especially when he cupped my breasts, pinching my nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. I could only cry out, my fingers gripping harshly around the tie. My overstimulation washed over me like a wave, and I was sure it was due to my lack of sleep. "Roman, please, I can't... I want you in me-- A-Aah," I couldn't stop the way my hips bucked against him, nor the way my gaze darted down to watch his eyes falling shut as he savoured me, his thick, long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks.

Thankfully, my husband wasn't in the mood to keep me on the edge tonight. Roman got up, a knowing smirk spreading across his slicked lips. "I might have to tie you up like this more often," he said, palming himself through his suit. "This is quite the sight."

From his perspective, I could understand this-- it wasn't every day that he saw his wife splayed out like this, t-shirt draped just above her bare chest, and completely at his mercy. On the other hand, I was sure I had gotten just as good of a bargain. I had been begging Roman to fuck me in one of his suits, and here he was, finally complying. If this wasn't love, then I couldn't be sure.

"Oh, you should see yourself," I purred, biting back a grin. "Mr. CEO... All mine."

Roman let out a soft chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss against my lower abdomen as he pulled off my pyjama bottoms. "Always been yours,"

I could only sigh, feeling a surge of warmth coursing through my veins. At the end of the day, it was true-- Roman was mine, and I was his. Bonded together through our testimony, before the law, and before all things celestial. Everything about this would've been perfect if I wasn't bonded to the bed as well. My wrists were starting to ache, but I didn't have much time to think about that as I felt Roman entering me, a low grunt escaping him. I couldn't help but shudder, feeling the familiar stretch and fullness I had been craving for so long, and I struggled against my restraints as I cried out in pleasure.

Roman kept one hand planted on my hip, the other one gripping hard at my thigh. Seeing the expression on his face was nearly enough to make me moan-- Fuck, how I had missed this. The feeling of his cock inside me, the feeling of his hands on me, and being completely at his mercy. He had thankfully learned to be a little gentle with me at the start, and I felt his green eyes on me as I closed mine, lips parting at the sensation of feeling him thrust into me with slow strokes. Heaven, heaven-- it was impossible that such pleasure could be dealt by the hands of a devil.

"Shit," Roman's hands gripped my waist, a need growing with each pump of his cock. He was so damn gorgeous, his sharp jawline twitching as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. It didn't take long before he grew impatient-- he shifted, the next snap of his hips digging his cock completely to the hilt in my warmth, a soft moan escaping him as my walls fluttered around his length.

My breath hitched, letting out a string of curse words. "Rome, please," The tie around my wrists was starting to drive me mad; "I want-- A-Ah, wanna touch you..."

I wasn't sure whether Roman was hearing me or not, his lips parting in pleasure. Eventually, he leaned forward, his mouth crashing onto mine, holding me close as I moaned against him between kisses. Now that he was even closer, I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and feel the fabric of his suit against my body, fulfilling my deepest fantasy. "Please," I breathed, my back arching as his cock brushed past my sweet spot. "Rome, please..."

I could feel him smirk against my mouth, and Roman pulled back to watch the absolute desperation swimming in my eyes. "What was that?" As he waited for my response, he pulled out until only the tip of him remained in me.

For fuck's sake-- "Please!" I cried, struggling against my restraints. "I can't... I can't--"

A sense of victory flashed through Roman's green eyes, traces of a darker satisfaction spreading across his lips as he thrust all the way back into me, watching me writhe and moan beneath him, fighting the urge to rip the tie to shreds to embrace him. "Fine," he said, leaning forward to clasp my wrists, smirking as his breath landed hot against my lips.

A moan mixed in with the sigh I let out, my hands immediately flying up into his hair as the tie was tossed away somewhere on the floor. Roman laughed against the kiss I dragged him into, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his lap, his cock still in me. "That was so much fun," he purred against my lips, grabbing my ass to drive me up and down along his slicked length. "We're doing that again."

"Fuck you," I pulled Roman tightly against my chest, feeling his arms snake themselves around me with the same intensity. It hit me how much I loved the feeling of him against me, how warm he was today, and how insanely hot he looked in that damn suit. Our lips came together in open, soft kisses, breathing against each other as our eyes locked, intense pleasure coursing through our bodies.

Roman was most certainly not the devil, and I could confidently conclude with that. However, I couldn't deny that he liked to play the most devilish games at the most inappropriate times-- but I had never loved my husband more than I did at this moment, right now.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #bill skarsgård #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #bill skarsgard #oneshot #smut #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard smut #hemlock grove fanfiction #husband!au #request

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roseglass-writings · 3 months ago

Text

NSFW Sebastian Headcannons (Stardew)

Hello! I have a free afternoon from university work so I wanted to post something :) I have a couple of things in the works for a multitude of fandoms but it may be until like May for me to be free to fully finish them lol

Went a bit chaotic with the gen!reader stuff in comparison to the fem and male reader leaning stuff lol

Hope you all enjoy <3

Word count: 1213

Masturbation headcannons:

With the lack of people in Pelican Town, having never gone to college, and his struggles with social anxiety, Sebastian has never been sexually active with another person before

Before being with you, he didn't have too much of an interest into divulging into what he was sexually interested in

On the rare occasion he does feel the urge to get off he finds videos of others masturbating, watching how others become more desperate the closer they get to cumming.

He really loves listening to people moan and whimper, so his headphones are plugged in while he leans back in his chair or laying on his bed, with the noise making him cum fairly quickly

He never gained any interest in toys until after he was in a relationship, and even then he only ever used them when at the farm. With his family ordering so many things for the lab and shop, sometimes it can lead to mail mix up and others opening his mail without realising, which is not something he wants to risk.

Once in a relationship he masturbates more at the beginning on your relationship, not wanting to pressure you or anything with his sudden increased libido. The sudden frequent physical touch with another person, especially someone he is in love with, makes his body feel like it is on fire and turn into a puddle at the same time.

While in a relationship he doesn't watch videos anymore to get off, instead frequently using his imagination with his mind drifting off to thoughts of you often, especially if he is stuck on one of his projects.

With gen!reader:

He is fairly touch starved, so his craving and love for physical touch comes across strong throughout your relationship, but especially during sex.

He leans towards the missionary and cowgirl positions the most when having sex, as it allows him to be close to you and watch.

If he is not holding onto your waist or hair, he is holding your hands. With this, he doesn't like being tied up or tying you up, finding that it makes him uncomfortable to be so vulnerable with you and unable to have that reassurance.

He is not big on dirty talk, preferring to hear the noises you make because of what he is doing to you.

He doesn't often initiate sex, especially not before he lives on the farm with you, worrying a lot about making you uncomfortable and overthinking a lot

The biggest problem he has with having sex at his home, aside from his family being close and Sam and Abigail frequently popping over, is the lack of light

He loves watching your facial expressions and how good he makes you feel, which the lack of light makes a lot harder and ruins his experience at his sometimes

He always had a bit of an oral fixation, but when moving in with you he tries to cut down on cigarettes which made it so much stronger

If he could live between your thighs, watching and listening to how he causes you to fall apart he would

frequently while going down on you he ends up grinding against the bed, becoming lost within the moment

He is fairly submissive, happy to do whatever you like (within his own boundaries as he is not big on experimenting much)

If you ask to give him a blowjob he will be putty in your hands, unable to take his eyes off you as he watches you kneel underneath the desk to get him off.

He cannot keep quiet, with moans and whimpers just falling from his lips without any control. At first he does get embarrassed by this, but once seeing how much you like it, he doesn't try to hide them anymore

Outside sex doesn't bother him, whether it is somewhere on the farm or in the quarry, as long as he gets to be close to you and no one is going to catch you he is happy

If you ever ask to try something knew, he will do a lot of research before wanting to continue the discussion

After a while and he gets very comfortable, he is willing to try roleplaying

He really enjoys mutual masturbation, watching you pleasure yourself and show him what you enjoy through that (he secretly takes mental notes)

With fem!reader:

His eyes can never stay still if you are riding him, with his eyes jumping between your breasts and face, all the while he is blushing insanely

He picks up very quickly what to do to make you feel the best pleasure, and always covered in your wetness when going down on you

You ask to sit on his face? He couldn't agree quicker. You could suffocate him between your thighs and he would be in heaven. To him, there is nothing better for stress relief

When cumming, he loves to cum on your thighs. The softness of your inner thighs can drive him insane, and every time he goes down on you he kisses your inner thigh

Fucking your thighs is his weakness and is the quickest way for him to cum

he would be comfortable if you wanted to peg him, as long as he got to be close to you and face you (at least for the first few times) he would be more than happy.

Hickeys are often found dotted on your skin, especially on your breasts, inner thighs and neck

Having you ride him and feeling your pussy wrapped around him is one of his favourite feelings

He loves it when you praise him, and will flush and try to distract you from praising him by making sure to brush his fingers against your g-spot and cover you in hickeys

With male!reader:

He loves marking your neck, chest, thighs and hips with hickeys

Whether he bottoms or you, he just wants to be close to you and prefers to be able to be face to face, at least for the first few times.

He will utterly melt into your arms if you praise him while fingering him and bumping constantly against his prostate.

His eyes often drift to your ass, especially if you are at the beach or doing some work around the farm.

He loves milking your cock, immensely enjoying the noises that fall from your lips

You two grinding on each other is something he fantasises about a lot more than he wants to admit

He loves cumming over your thighs and stomach

Aftercare:

He always makes sure he has some water or some sort of drink available. if you do have sex over at his before you live together on the farm then he will make sure to help you get cleaned up before going to get you a glass himself so you don't have to bump into anyone

He will love maintaining physical contact afterwards, curled up together and making sure each other is okay through touch

Straight after he is not the best at opening up, so after checking that you are okay and you both drink something and go to the bathroom he will prefer laying there soaking up each others presence

After a little while he will be checking on you, making sure everything was okay and you were not hurt in anyway (especially with outside sex or after you try something new)

He will play with your hair or fingers while you cuddle after, just watching you and feeling so happy with how his life is now

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sansaorgana · 11 months ago

Note

Hello, I have a request for Benny Cross:

Benny had a bad habit of telling reader that he would just leave so that she didn’t have to worry about him anymore, and at some point she distances herself because she thinks he’s really going to leave some day and it will hurt less if she starts getting used to his absence. Benny’s not having it though and he realizes that it stresses her every time he says that so he reassures her. Please & thank you 🙏🏼💗

hello! thank you for your request 💐 honestly, he's manipulating emotionally so much when he's like that lol 🙄 but we love him anyway, right? 😉

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

“I should just go,” Benny would always say when you mentioned how worried you were about him riding the motorbike and getting involved in all kinds of trouble – whether with the gang or on his own. “You won’t have to take care of me, won’t have to worry about me then.”

When he said that for the first time, you were assuring him that it was not what you wanted – holding onto him, caressing his head as you pressed his face between your breasts like a mother would to her son.

But a few times later, you realised that it was an emotional manipulation on his side. It was his way of shutting you up and making you feel guilty for being worried about the things you had every right to be worried about. You loved him – and yes, you knew what he was like when you chose to be his girl and you didn’t want to tame him but… You were worried. Because you loved him and didn’t want to see him in jail or hurt. Was it that difficult to understand?

And now it happened again – he had gotten himself into a fight, half of his face bruised and fresh cuts on his forehead and a cheek. Benny was sitting on the edge of the bed and you were next to him, patching him up. Clearing the wounds carefully with pursed lips, trying not to say anything that would anger him further because he was still pretty riled up.

“What?” He asked eventually after one of your sighs.

“You know what,” you pointed out and went back to taking care of him.

“That guy deserved it, I won and I’m fine. What’s your problem again?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Fine?” You snorted at him and pointed at the mirror. “Look at your face, Benny. You’re not fucking fine,” you gritted your teeth. “Or perhaps you’ve taken a few too many hits and you’ve got brain damage now, talking nonsense. Wouldn’t surprise me,” you added angrily.

“Alright, enough,” he mumbled and shoved your hands away as he reached to the nightstand for a cigarette. He lit it and gave you the look you had known already very well. “I should just leave,” he told you. “You won’t have to worry and get angry anymore when I go.”

Perhaps you should have been used to this now but perhaps it was that one time too many. You had no answer to this, no willpower to argue. Maybe he was thinking of leaving you and that was why he kept repeating it all the time? Maybe your constant worrying was too much for him? Maybe he wanted a woman who would only care about getting fucked and taking rides and that was it? Maybe he didn’t treat this relationship as seriously as you did?

Fighting all these thoughts in your head, you just took the bowl of cold water filled with bloody cotton pads and you left him alone in the bedroom. You went downstairs to clean the mess up and to curl up on the couch in front of TV.

After half an hour you heard his light snoring coming out of the bedroom and you decided to go to sleep, too. You felt extremely numb inside, though. It was difficult to fall asleep – laying next to a man you loved so much but everything seemed to be so complicated. Sometimes love was not enough. And love itself was never complicated – but people sometimes were. Benny certainly was. And maybe it would be for the best to let him go, to let him leave, as he was always saying.

He was a man of the road, after all. He valued freedom more than anything else. Of course he would leave one day. What even had you been thinking? That he’d stay forever with you? That he wouldn’t drive away one day?

As you imagined it happening, your heart squeezed inside your chest. You realised how much it would hurt when he leaves. You had to start preparing yourself already, you decided. So it would hurt less. So it wouldn’t kill you.

You had to distance yourself from him.

At first Benny didn’t notice your odd behaviour. Well, he did. But at first it wasn’t so odd. It was nothing new that you were moody and offended at something so he just let it pass as usual. But on the third day of a house not being filled with your talking and your laughter, on the third day of you giving him a cold shoulder in bed… He started to contemplate what could be the reason behind it.

And during the picnic, you were spending time with everybody around except for him. The message was pretty clear. Even some of his friends pointed it out. Something was not right about the way you behaved around him.

You were drinking with Betty by the fire and giggling with her about something. Benny was watching you from afar, smoking a cigarette and gritting his teeth. He missed that laughter, that giggle, your smile, the sparkle in your eye. He missed your soft hands caressing him whenever you could – playing with the rings on his fingers, tracing the outlines of his tattoos. He missed your lips kissing the top of his nose and his eyelids after telling him goodnight and he missed having you underneath him and covering your whole face with tiny little kisses as he was tickling your sides.

He threw the cigarette away to step on it and fixed his leather jacket before approaching you nonchalantly as he usually would. You didn’t even look up at him but Betty did as she stopped talking to you as if you had been discussing some secrets together.

“Benny?” She asked.

“I gotta speak to my girl,” Benny explained and the intensity of his gaze made you finally look up.

You gave Betty an annoyed look but you nodded your head and Johnny’s wife left you alone with your boyfriend. You chewed on the inside of your cheek before taking a sip of your beverage.

“What is it?” You asked with a sigh.

“Should be me askin’, don’t you think?” Benny stood next to you with his hands inside of his pockets, trying to look at your face but it was difficult since you were determined to avoid his gaze. “What’s up?”

“Nothing’s up,” you chuckled at his question sarcastically.

“You’re actin’ up ever since…”

“Ever since you told me you were gonna leave,” you snapped suddenly as you finally laid your eyes on him. “So yeah, what are you even still doing here?” You added and tried to walk away but Benny grabbed your wrist and pulled you to his chest despite your protests.

“Is that what it’s all about, huh?” He raised his eyebrows but his dismissive tone was not helping at all.

“You’re seriously surprised, Benny? How many more times can I handle listening to that, hm? What do you think? That you talking shit like that won’t mess with my head? That it won’t have any effect on me, huh? Please!” You managed to free your wrist from his grasp. He kept staring at you with widened eyes as he was blinking slowly and analysing your every word and expression. “You wanna leave? You wanna go? Sure, go on. But I’m trying to distance myself before it happens, so…” Your voice trembled as a lump formed in your throat. “So it won’t kill me when you do,” you finished in a broken whisper while tears pricked your eyes.

After a short moment, you walked away quickly. You didn’t want to start crying and make a scene in front of everybody. And you didn’t want to start crying in front of Benny either – to let him know how much you cared about him when he was constantly talking about leaving? That felt humiliating.

So, you went inside the house and to the kitchen where you put the bottle down next to dozens of other empty bottles. Grabbing the edges of the sink, you tried to catch your breath back and calm yourself down.

When you heard the footsteps behind you, you straightened your back and wiped the tears from your cheeks. You turned around and saw Benny, leaning on the wall on the other side of the kitchen.

“I’m not plannin’ to leave any time soon,” Benny muttered nervously.

“Any time soon?” You shook your head. “Wow.”

“I mean…” He sighed and approached you. “You know, I might hit the road one day, leave forever. You know I hate being tied to one place,” he explained. “But I’m gonna take my doll with me. What gave you an idea I wouldn’t?” He lifted your chin up.

“What gave me an idea, Benny?! You did!” You pointed out with widened eyes.

“Aw, kitty, I’m just sayin’ stuff like that so you stop lecturing me, haven’t you realised that already?” Benny leaned in to cup your face and rub your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Shush, don’t you cry…”

“Benny, I…” You caught your breath and raised your hands to cup his face, too. You missed the feeling of his beard under your soft fingertips. You scratched him the way he liked it and cracked a smile at him. The very first in a few days. “Benny, I’m worried. And I will always be. Always, you hear me? Because I love you. You can’t expect me not to… You just can’t. And doing that by telling me you’re gonna leave is the worst way of doing so. It’s killing me each time. It’s awful,” you confessed and looked down. “You can’t make me feel guilty for the fact I worry about you. I am the only one who does.”

It was true. His friends from the gang adored him but they didn’t care much about his health or troubles with the law. In fact – they encouraged Benny’s getting into fights or getting arrested. They liked him for the fact that he was wild and difficult to tame. They cheered on when he had a new bruise or a new case in the courthouse. You didn’t.

“I’ve never had anyone worrying about me, dollie,” Benny confessed softly. “I’m not used to that.”

“I’m not doing that to annoy you. I worry because I love you,” you looked up again and bit on your lower lip.

“I know. Because I worry about you, too,” he rubbed his nose with yours after leaning in even closer. “I worry about you all the time. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“So why can’t you understand that what I feel towards you is just the same? That I’m not doing it to annoy you?” You asked.

“It’s just hard to believe, I guess,” Benny shrugged his arms. “That a doll like you can love a guy like me so much.”

“Oh, Benny…” Now you didn’t know what to say as your heart broke in half.

“And when you’re angry at me when I get hurt… I feel like a burden,” he added.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “I just feel so helpless sometimes and I get angry… Because I don’t know how to make you finally understand that I want you to stop getting in trouble,” you sniffled your tears back and Benny wrapped his arms around you as he pulled you close into a tight embrace.

“Trouble is my middle name, kitty. But I’m already tryin’ my best not to mess around too much since I have you,” he promised and kissed the top of his head. “You know, before I met you, I used to think I would die young. But I don’t want that to happen anymore, yeah. I wanna grow old with you, baby.”

His words were like honey being poured onto your heart. You squeezed him tight and pressed your ear to his chest where his heart was.

“I love you, Benny.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart,” he assured you. “Don’t give me silent treatment anymore, I can’t handle that.”

“I won’t,” you giggled, with your face still pressed to his chest.

“Good.”

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #benny cross x reader #austin butler x reader #*benny #lilysfiction

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wordsarelife · 4 months ago

Text

pairing: slytherin!group x fem!nott!reader (romantic interest to come…)

summary: mattheo’s sure he’s cracked the case this time, but his “genius” plan drags everyone into a mess. theo’s annoyed, blaise is convinced he'll die, enzo’s just trying to stay out of it and draco’s researching ways to dispose of evidence. what started as a small mystery spirals out of control, and now they’re all in way deeper than they ever imagined. oops.

warnings: mentions of drugs, mentions of murder, but in a funny way (you’ll see lol), swearing, teenagers being teenagers

note: chapter one is finally here!! so excited to hear your opinions in the comments. also: what do we think about the possible love interest hinted at the end? are we in favor??

mattheo riddle was sitting on a couch in the slytherin common room, body bend forward, only the the tip of his arse still on the seat. he was holding a magnifying glass, studying a piece of parchment on the table in front of him.

"huh" theo muttered when he came down the stairs and saw mattheo's weird position. "working on your divination essay? you know we have to submit it in three days, you're about five days too early"

mattheo rolled his eyes at his friends lame joke, but didn't look up from the parchment.

"he's been staring at that for the past twenty minutes" draco added, who was slumped on an armchair across from mattheo, reading the newspaper. "he's acting all mysterious"

"that was awesome" blaise' voice suddenly bounced off the walls of the common room, when he and enzo entered, highfiving each other, before peeling out of their quidditch gear. they threw themselves down on the sofa on either side of mattheo, who frowned in annoyance.

"it was pretty peaceful before you guys came along" he muttered, eyeing theo, blaise and enzo.

"well, what's ruined your day, huh?" blaise puffed out air like he was smoking a cigarette, as he leaned back on the sofa and tried to reach for mattheo's shoulder, who moved out of the way before blaise was able to touch him.

"yeah" enzo agreed. "we missed you on the pitch. blaise learned this really cool—“

"this is serious, okay?" mattheo interrupted, reaching for his parchment, that theo had been studying while mattheo was preoccupied.

"that just looks like random numbers" theo shrugged, a little surprised by mattheo's sudden maturity.

"he believes it's a code" draco exclaimed with a roll of his eyes.

mattheo, completely ignoring draco, put on a knowing look. "i believe it to be a code" he said, matter of factly.

draco pointed a lame hand in mattheo's direction, followed by a very clear facial expression that basically said: 'i told you, he's crazy.'

theo sighed, realizing that he probably wouldn't be able to spend the rest of his day in peace, if he wouldn't indulge further. "a code?" he asked. "what makes you think that?"

"well" mattheo smiled smugly, like he had just been waiting for someone to ask about his investigation. "i spyed on your sister—" he paused at theo's sharp glance and lowering gaze. "not like that, mate, come on." mattheo shook his head, like he couldn't fathom theo jumping to such a conclusion. "well, i heard her talking, to pansy. they were discussing something dangerous, i just immediately knew"

"what did they say?" enzo perked up. "are they in danger?"

"life-threatening danger" mattheo nodded ominiously.

theo crossed his arms. "are you sure?" he exchanged a glance with blaise. "last time you said that, you got us convinced pansy had a stalker. turns out her and y/n had been talking about an episode of 'unsolved mysteries', but by the time we realized that mcgonnagall didn't really care anymore, did she?"

"that was a simple mistake, could've happened to anyone"

"i still have nightmares about that day" enzo muttered.

"i had to step down from my position as a prefect!" draco argued. "i was only allowed to be one the next year for special services, which required me to be filch's little helper for a month"

"i said i was sorry" mattheo crossed his arms in annoyance. "and this time i'm sure, by the way."

"you are?" enzo asked.

"i am" mattheo confirmed. "this message isn't any regular one. i know those numbers. it's part of benny's code"

"benny?" blaise repeated. "you mean blackout benny?" he asked with a worried expression as he leaned forward to try and study theo's reaction.

theo's face had whitened, shortly getting rid of any emotion, before anger crossed his features. "i swear to god, mattheo, if i find out my sister's taking heroin or cocaine, you're gonna die a painful death"

"what?" mattheo asked stunned. "what do i have to do with that?"

"i don't know" theo shrugged sarcastically. "who was the one to buy coke from benny for that ravenclaw party last year?"

"that was one time"

"impossible" blaise shook his head. "either you suddenly have eidetic memory, —what should be impossible after all the weed you smoked— or you used that code often enough to remember it."

"i'm kinda convinced it's the second one" enzo shrugged.

"i'm gonna kill you" theo muttered between clenched teeth, but draco's arm shot forward, before he was able to throw himself at mattheo.

"maybe we should all calm down" draco send a sharp look in theo's direction, who finally nodded.

"yeah, yeah" mattheo nodded, slumping back onto the couch, from which he had risen the second he thought he might have to fight theo.

"let's not jump to conclusions without properly thinking"

"couldn't we just ask black— i mean benny, what y/n and pansy wanted?" enzo suggested.

"and get roped into this?" blaise asked in disbelief. "who knows how deep they're in. it starts with coke and quickly evolves to a cartel level of involvement."

"i think we're still pretty far from that" theo smiled sarcastically.

"you all go ahead and search for benny" draco directed.

"and what about you?" mattheo asked confused.

"i'm gonna stay back and search for legal ways to dispose of evidence." he sent a look in theo's direction, who had started frowning at the mention of evidence. "just in case of course"

"sure" theo nodded. the others were easier to convice as they got up from their position and followed mattheo outside the common room.

"so where do we find benny?" blaise asked as soon as they were out of the dungeon, he looked around suspiciously, as if someone was spying on them.

"the code is the answer" mattheo grinned, pointing at the confusing numbers. “each number stands for a different information.”

"i think i got it", enzo mumbled, studying the parchment, mattheo held in the middle of the four. "ehh, he's waiting behind the witch with the black hat? no, wait next to hagrids— does this even make any sense?" he looked at theo, who quietly shook his head.

"he's in the courtyard" mattheo shrugged. "benny had these complicated codes back when he started, but he always forgot where he was supposed to be, so he started handing out the same over and over again. he's in the courtyard, trust me."

"i'm not so sure we should" theo send mattheo a suspicious glance, before he started walking in the direction of the courtyard, enzo right behind him.

a hand slipped onto mattheo's shoulder. "i'm getting the baddest vibes from this, mattheo" blaise muttered, quiet enough for the others to not hear. "maybe we should start asking ourselves how much we love pansy and y/n"

"yeah" mattheo nodded ominiously. "come on."

the courtyard was empty when the slytherins arrived, but there was a shadow creeping behind a tree and when he heard the approaching steps, benny revealed himself.

"remember, confidence is key" mattheo reminded his friends. "we don't know what's going on, but that doesn't mean benny knows that"

"sayonara, nott!" blackout benny greeted.

"'sayonara' means goodbye, idiot" theo crossed his arms, unamused.

"wow" benny shook his head, pressing a hand against his chest as if he had been wounded by theo's words. "why so hostile?"

"yo, benny," blaise stepped in front of theo, puffing out his chest like he was auditioning for a gangster drama. "we need answers. pronto. and no funny business, alright?"

benny squinted. "funny business? i am funny business. what are you even talking about?"

mattheo stepped forward, his expression dark, dramatic, and entirely too intense for the situation. "we know you know about everything, benny."

benny blinked. "what?"

"you know what," mattheo said cryptically and benny shook his head cluelessly.

"don’t lie to us, benny," blaise jumped in, his voice shaking slightly. "we know the stakes are high, but some of us—" he paused for dramatic effect, swallowing hard, "—some of us might not make it out alive."

"okay, whoa," benny held up his hands. "what in merlin’s saggy socks are you talking about? make it out of what?"

theo sighed, glancing at blaise with an incredulous look in his eyes. "ignore him," he furrowed his brows, stepping closer. "have you talked to my sister today?"

"oh" benny smiled and a smug smirk displayed itself on his features. "depends"

"depends?" blaise repeated with a sudden panic in his voice. "oh god we know too much, right? and now we've seen your face, there's no other way" he sank to his knees in front of benny and closed his eyes, as if he was waiting for an incoming shot or hex. "i mean i always knew i would die this way, i'm sure another way would've been way too boring considering my bright personality, at least i go down like—"

"what the fuck are you doing?" mattheo interrupted, dragging blaise back onto his feet by his arm.

"i'd like to point out that we've known how benny looked for years" enzo added and hid a giggle behind his hand. "also: how long was that final monologue supposed to be?"

"you're not gonna kill us?" blaise questioned, opening one eye and then the other to glance at benny.

"the fuck? of course not, i'm selling coke, i'm not a fucking killer"

"well, matter of interpretation" theo shrugged. "but calm down, blaise"

"so, as i was saying" benny muttered, sending a sharp gaze in blaise's direction as if to try and see how many times he would throw himself down on the ground. "depe—well, how much is it worth to you?" benny smirked.

"worth to us?" enzo repeated confused.

"due to your elaborate spending habits, i know you guys are loaded, don't go stupid on me now" benny held out his hand, moving his fingers, repeatedly opening and closing a fist. "well?"

theo sighed, before he grabbed a few galleons and threw them in benny's waiting hand. the others followed quickly after.

"i do think that might be enough to get me to talk" benny nodded, putting the money away. "pansy and y/n were here this morning and bought something for their, well, let's call it an event"

"event?" enzo repeated with furrowed brows.

"wow, very specific, thank you benny" mattheo rolled his eyes. "what did they buy?"

"supplies" benny shrugged, not even trying to break it down further. "well, the usual, had to bring it to one of those giant abondended classrooms"

"how much?" theo asked between clenched teeth.

"oh" benny laughed. "a lot. the girls spend more than double of what you guys just gave me"

"oh god. this is bad." blaise muttered. "we all know what kind of event need this much of supplies—"

"a party?" enzo suggested.

"a massive smuggle" blaise quickly interrupted before enzo could continue. “drug cartel, mafia, pablo escobar level”

"my sister isn't smuggling drugs," theo shook his head, clearly annoyed at blaise's suggestion.

“how do you know pablo escobar?” enzo muttered confused.

“well, i’ve done my research”

“you mean you’ve watched narcos” mattheo rolled his eyes. “told you muggle shows were stupid. you’ve turned all paranoid.”

"well, whatever your sister is doing, i can’t discuss it further, because i have to go now" benny said, mingling himself back into the conversation. "got places to be"

"very practical, huh?" mattheo called after him. "you're probably involved in this—in this eh— drug scheme! yeah!"

"so what now?" enzo asked, staring at the door benny had just disappeared behind. "i mean we know close to nothing, right?"

"we know enough" blaise disagreed. "enough to keep out of it now"

"keep out of it?" theo repeated. "whatever my sister got herself into, i won't just leave her to deal with it on her own."

"well, she's still got pansy" blaise shrugged, unbothered. "isn't one of us going down with her enough?"

"no one's going down just now" enzo said, surprisingly calm. "what is the plan, theo?"

"well, i think we should find draco, tell him what we know and see how to go from there and maybe also search for that classroom."

"i didn't know your name was theo" theo furrowed his brows and send a look to mattheo, who shrugged like he had simply overheard that enzo hadn't been talking to him.

the slytherins walked back through the door to the castle and into the direction of the common room. before they could walk down the stairs to the dungeon, a frantic draco came running up, a thick book in hand.

"ha!" he called as soon as his eyes fell on his friends. "i got it!! the perfect loophole: we're allowed to get rid of evidence, as long as it doesn't include any illegal substances—" he lowered the book. "no! why are you all looking at me like that? took me an hour to find this"

"well, draco—" enzo muttered, but was interrupted by mattheo.

"they're in deep" he quickly said. "meth, coke, heroin and whatever else comes to mind."

"drama queen" theo muttered with a roll of his eyes. "as long as we make sure it ends now and doesn't escalate further, no one is in deep."

blaise shook his head in disbelief. “we’re already in deep. why can’t we just save ourselves and send a nice postcard to pansy and y/n in azkaban? you know, like, ‘thinking of you—hope the dementors are chill.’”

“stop whining,” theo growled, clapping him on the shoulder. “if they’re going down, we’re going down too. that’s what friends do.”

blaise shook his head, muttering, “friends don’t let friends get killed by drug smuggling”

"so far you're the only one speaking about getting killed" enzo smiled. "so you might be a tad bit paranoid. we just go and find pansy and y/n in that abandoned classroom and everything will turn out to be okay."

the rest of the group nodded, before they fell into easy step, enzo and draco following the group as the last.

"i don't enjoy saying this" draco whispered, so only enzo was able to understand. "but if it's really something to do with smuggle, then we're doomed. no one comes clean from that, not even in the wizarding world."

"i know" enzo nodded, sending a fake smile in blaise's direction, when he turned around and looked at draco and enzo suspiciously. "we just have to hope it's anything but that."

"hey, nott?" a sudden voice behind them made them perk up. hermione granger was standing at the entrance of the library, a stack of books under her arm and a piece of paper in her other hand. she was waving it around frantically.

"granger?" draco and theo said at the same time.

"your sister left this here earlier" she handed the paper to theo. "don't know if it's important, but i'd hate losing stuff i wrote down while studying, so i thought she should have it.“

"ehh, thank you" theo nodded. "i'll pass it on."

hermione send the group a tight-lipped smile, tinged with a little bit of suspicion, before she turned around and started walking in the direction of the gryffindor common room.

"well, are you gonna read it?" mattheo questioned, as the five of them stood leaning over the paper in theo's hand.

"i don't know" theo mumbled unsure. "what if it's private?"

"i think private went flying out the window about an hour ago" draco remarked, crossing his arms.

theo sighed, but nodded and unfolded the parchment. this one was a little simpler than the last, a list with names. it took them all a moment to comprehend that their own ones were written on it.

"i'm the only one talking about killing, huh?" blaise screeched at enzo, before he ripped the paper from theo's hands, holding it up and pointing at it like a madman. "this is a fucking HITLIST!"

enzo shrugged. "it could very well just be a guest—“

"AND LOOK WHO'S NAME IS RIGHT AT THE TOP!" blaise continued screaming. "WELL, YOU GUESSED IT! MINE!!!"

"woah" mattheo muttered, his eyes scanning the names. "if anything i should be worried. my name is the first one, yours is only the third."

"technically you just have to be faster than mattheo and draco," theo shrugged sarcastically.

"well, that's really comforting, theo" blaise' eye seemed to be twitching in an unusual rhythm. "especially knowing your name comes last between all of us. i bet you're just waiting to throw us under the bus and save yourself."

"don't be ridiculous, blaise" enzo shook his head, trying to reach for the list, but blaise moved his hand before he was able to.

"enzo is right" draco nodded. "theo would never do something like that, come on."

"he doesn't have to" blaise nodded as if he was seeing through everything. "i mean he's got his killer sister to take care of it, am i right?"

"wait when did we establish y/n was a killer?" mattheo asked confused, exchanging glances with theo. "thought she was just a coke whore or whatever that kind of job is called nowadays."

"you've all gone way too far with your disrespect" theo muttered between clenched teeth. "my sister is neither a killer nor a fucking coke whore, what the actual fuck mattheo?"

"i'm just the messenger" mattheo held up his hands in surrender.

"yeah! he's right!" blaise nodded frantically. "and you know what they say about the messenger? DON'T KILL HIM!!"

"let's just all calm down, eh?" enzo suggested in a soft voice, one of his hands each on blaise's and theo's shoulders. "we just have to find out what's going on. and that abandoned classroom seems to be the best way to do that, right?"

the group all collectively nodded, while mumbling a few inaudible sentences.

the slytherins continued to walk through the giant hallways of the castle, following noise around corners, until they arrived in front of a door, which was probably the one you and pansy were behind.

mattheo outstretched his hand to twist the knob, when a person quickly slid between him and the still closed door.

the group made similar noises of surprise.

blaise screamed loudly.

"you can't go in there" pansy smiled sweetly, "not yet anyway"

"what are you hiding?" mattheo narrowed his eyes, watching the girls expression closely.

pansy furrowed her brows and crossed her arms. "why are you so eager? i thought today was firewhiskey friday. shouldn't you be slurring your words by now?"

"this isn't funny, pansy" theo interrupted from behind. "we're worried."

"worried?" pansy repeated with a hint of surprise. "unusually caring for you guys, huh? and you, blaise? been through it, what?"

blaise exchanged a nervous glance with draco. "for the protocol: i know nothing, about nothing and have no idea who's involved in anything. that should do it, yeah" he nodded, quite proud about saving himself from a seemingly dangerous situation.

"involved in what?" pansy smiled as she shook her head. "is it possible y'all watched too many muggle films about cartels or something?"

"there!" blaise screeched, pointing an accusing finger at pansy, who raised her brows impossibly higher. "she said the c-word. oh god, this is it."

"relax, blaise" enzo clamped a hand around blaise's shoulder. "that was obviously a joke. where's y/n?" he asked, with a little hope to break up the situation before it could escalate.

pansy's eyes wandered to the door. "she's busy"

"pansy" theo muttered in a warning tone. "i want to see my sister. now"

"oh god, she's probably already dead" blaise shook his head, the panic temporarily returning.

"she's not dead, idiot" pansy rolled her eyes. "she's just doing something at the moment."

"doing what? coke?" mattheo snorted, but his laughter quickly died down at the expression on pansy's face.

"you're gonna let us through the door, pansy" theo demanded.

"yeah, he's right" draco nodded with slumped down shoulders, already accepting his fate. "there's no point in hiding it any longer."

"hm" pansy nodded. "i guess you're right"

faster than any of them could react, she had thrown the door open. blaise winced, throwing his hands up in front of his face.

"surprise!" the room was filled with party decor in every possible corner. there was a huge banner that read 'happy birthday', drinks and food had been organized on a table and various guests were smiling at the clueless group of slytherins, who all seemed to sigh in relief at the sight in front of them.

"what—?" blaise let his hands sink down as his eyes flew around the room, almost passing out from the shock of well, nothing threatening ahead of him.

"hey guys" you smiled, walking through the crowd of people. "happy birthday, mattheo" you grinned, hugging the boy, who reluctantly returned the gesture.

"eh thank you" he muttered with a nod, before turning in draco's direction. "that was today?"

draco just shrugged.

mattheo had been so busy with this whole conspiracy theory, he had completely forgotten what day it was, not that he was normally very excited to remember his birthday. this was probably the first party he had gotten since he had been a kid.

that realisation made him unfreeze, as he broke into a smile. "thank you!" he repeated, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek before walking into the room and greeting the other guests.

"what's gotten into you?" you still smiled, but looked a little confused as you looked from one boy to the next. they still hadn't walked into the room, the same confusion on their faces as on yours.

"oh god" theo finally mumbled, walking through the group until he reached you, pressing you close to his chest and hugging you. "i'm so glad you're not a coke-whore"

"huh?" you mumbled against your brother's chest.

"long story" draco shrugged, when you found his eyes.

"oh" you suddenly remembered. "so i guess you guys found the clue pansy and i left behind?"

"clue?" enzo repeated.

"well, we thought the best way to keep mattheo from finding everything out was to keep him busy with thinking he's finding everything out." you smiled. "seems like it worked better than we thought" you chuckled nervously.

"benny said you bought a lot of supplies" theo added.

"yeah, party supplies" you nodded. "benny has a side hustle, he's pretty good with the decor and stuff"

"fuck" blaise suddenly said, breaking out in obnoxious laughter.

"oh yeah" enzo said at that. "blaise was sure he was going to die."

"—die for you, y/n" blaise interrupted. "i was ready to sacrifice my own life, so that the bad guys would spare yours"

"aww blaise" you smiled after him as he walked around you and into the party.

"ladies, who's ready for some blaise?"

"don't believe a word of that" draco chuckled, clasping a hand around your shoulder and squeezing it, before he followed after blaise.

"well, now that we've discussed that, are you gonna come inside or what?" you asked, pointing behind you.

enzo and theo answered at the same time: "yeah."

sometime later, you were standing near the table with the drinks, watching mattheo cut the huge birthday cake in the middle of the crowd, when enzo stepped next to you, holding a cup filled with your favorite drink in your direction.

"oh, thanks" you smiled surprised, taking the cup from his hand.

"that was a crazy afternoon" enzo giggled. "but i have to pay pansy and you my respect, you guys got us pretty good. mattheo was busy the whole time, so i guess it was pretty successful. i think the code for benny was enough for all of us to start panicking."

"you really did?"

"well, mostly blaise, but yeah" he nodded, taking a sip from his cup. "i had a feeling it was something like this in reality, although i have to admit i was unsure from time to time too."

"you knew?"

enzo shrugged. "you have a lot of qualities but dealing or smuggling drugs isn't one of them, no offense"

you laughed at that and enzo felt a sudden warmth spread in his chest at the sound.

you opened your mouth to say something else, when enzo and you both saw pansy standing across the room, eagerly waving you over. "oh, seems like i'm needed."

"yeah" enzo nodded with a sigh of disappointment. "it's probably important."

"probably" you nodded, before you glanced back at him. "well, thanks for the drink and everything else" you smiled, before you went off, helping pansy to reorganize a few rogue balloons.

enzo wasn't able to take his eyes off of you.

your smile was enchanting and he was sure he had been under the influence of your special magic longer than he realized.

TAGLIST !

@mehrsdigitaldiary @swaysister @shyamanuensis @mattiesgf @shari-berri @the-lurking-await-you @marikajhaha @livia7137 @idiotussupremus @catiwinky

let me know if you want to be added!!

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wooyoungiewritings · 2 years ago

Text

Fire and water - Seonghwa x Reader

Summary: When you walk into the mechanic, you don't expect to see Seonghwa, the most intimidating person you've ever laid your eyes on. He's the complete opposite of you. But he opens the idea of something you've never considered, and before you know it, the door he has opened for you is already locked behind you.

Word count: 6K

Genre: SMUT

Warnings: smut, fem reader (fem pronouns), reader is very innocent and hwa is very not (lol), nicknames such as kitten and princess, oral sex (f receiving), hwa smokes, semi public sexual activities, lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way.

The intense smell of gasoline and oil fills your nose as you step into the unfamiliar space. Generic rock music plays from the radio and a few random posters hang on the walls. It doesn’t seem like the most professional place, but a car with an open hood in the middle of the room, assures you that you came to the right place. Your eyes scan the repair shop for someone to assist you, but the silence is enough of an answer for you.

You knew you arrived at a late hour, having spent most of your day getting lost in the books at the library, but a part of you hoped you could make it before closing time. It was a simple Google search for the nearest mechanic that had you end up here, but you didn’t think twice to see the closing hours.

Your legs guide you further into the room, careful not to touch anything you shouldn’t. This is the first time you’ve been to the mechanic with your car that you bought a few months back. It was an already used car when you bought it, but you could get it cheap and desperately needed something to help you get to school. The feeling of being in here is intimidating in itself, having little to no knowledge of cars, but a lamp in your car display has been screaming for attention for way too long, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“Are you lost?” The voice surprises you and you turn around to see a tall figure walking into the room.

Seonghwa.

The tall, lean, beautiful man you’ve seen in the hallways of your university. He is always wearing an oversized old-school leather jacket, messy black hair, black nail polish, and has a cigarette in hand 24/7. He and his group are known on campus for being too intimidating to talk to, but somehow every time you see them, they each have a new girl wrapped around their finger. They party when everyone else is sleeping, don't care about what people are saying about them and they will fight if they have to.

You’ve only spoken to him once when you accidentally walked in on him and a girl kissing in the library. You were searching for a specific book and made your way to the back rows of the library. As you were in your own head, you turned a corner and saw him with his tongue down her throat, her hands running through his (then) white hair. Your instant reaction was to freeze in your spot, panicking. This was the last thing you expected to see, especially at the library.

As Seonghwa removed his gaze from the girl trapped between him and the shelves, and his eyes watched you carefully, you immediately woke up.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” You quickly said, turning around. Cheeks quickly blushed, and you felt the embarrassment rush over you. Not even for them, but for you.

You heard the girl mumble something to Seonghwa, and a second later, she passed you and walked out of your sight. Heart pounding fast against your chest, you slowly turned around before your eyes landed on Seonghwa. Relaxed, he was leaning up against the shelf with his arms crossed, staring you down.

“You can take what you came for.” His low voice spoke.

Slowly you walked further down the row, trying your best not to look at Seonghwa. Focused on the note in your hand with the book name you were searching for, you scanned the rows for the book. It seemed like an easy task, but you felt Seonghwa’s eyes locked on you with every move you made, making this simple mission impossible.

Your eyes kept going over the same place again and again, slowly getting frustrated that you couldn’t get your shit together.

As you looked down on the note again, reading the same line for the 29th time, you suddenly felt something watching over your shoulder. The smell of gasoline and cigarettes surrounded you, and it was like everything froze again. Seonghwa’s presence was close to you, but he wasn’t even touching you. You slowly turned your head to the side, and Seonghwa was peeking over your shoulder, looking down at the note in your hand.

Not a word was said when he lifted his arm, grabbed a book, and handed it down to you. Your breathing stopped as you saw the book you were so desperately looking for, resting in Seonghwa’s hand. Your hands slowly reached out for the book, and you couldn’t help but look up and see his eyes watching you with no expression. You couldn’t tell what was going on behind those eyes.

“Thank you.” You whispered, not being able to get more words out.

“You’re welcome.” He answered coldly, still watching your every move.

Was he pissed at you for interrupting? Was he tired? Was he happy? Relieved? You had absolutely no idea.

So you quickly saw your opportunity to get away, sending him an awkward smile before you practically ran away.

And that was the first and only time you’ve spoken to Seonghwa. Until now.

“No, I was looking for someone to help me.” You say, knowing he’s been waiting for an answer for a little too long. “I need an oil change.”

He takes a few steps further into the room, and you notice the white towel in his hands, filled with black oil stains. He’s wearing a black tank top and jeans, also filled with black stains.

You didn’t know much about him, and you had no idea that he worked here. Looking back though, it made sense for you. He was often seen with a “dirty” outfit, with black oil stains on his clothes and skin.

“Brave of you to walk in here in an all-white outfit,” His eyes travel down your body, and you suddenly feel small. You look down at yourself in your white cardigan, white skirt, and white knee socks. Of course, you didn’t think much of it when you put your outfit together this morning. “Give me five minutes, I just need to finish this,” He walks closer to the parked car in the room, throwing the white cloth over so it rests on his shoulder.

Restless, not knowing what to do with yourself, you step closer to the wall, trying your best not to be in his way. “Careful standing too close to that, or you’ll get oil on your skirt. It stains. You can sit on the stool over there while you wait.” He points at a black stool in the corner and you quickly find your way over there so you can let him work in peace.

You take your time studying the place, not knowing if it’s normal to have a conversation at a place like this. How long will this take? Does he own this place? Should you leave him alone? You decide to focus on the rock music playing while you silently watch Seonghwa do his thing.

He’s leaning over the open hood of the car, screwing something and rubbing his hands in the white cloth after. You might not have any idea of how to repair cars, but he makes whatever he does look so easy. He knows exactly what to do and how to do it.

He closes the hood of the car and walks to the other corner of the room. You can’t see what he’s pressing, but suddenly the metal wall behind you goes up, and you look behind you to see other cars parked outside. It rolls all the way up, and Seonghwa walks to the car, gets in, and drives it out of the room and to the parking lot.

You silently watch him as he comes back and walks towards you. “Alright, can I have your keys?” He asks, reaching out his hand. You’re quick to hand him the key with a heart keyring attached, and there’s a tug on his lips as it’s placed in his hand. “Be right back.”

A moment later, he arrives in your car, parks it in the middle of the room, and walks out to close the metallic garage door again. Once it’s closed, he grabs a few things from racks on the walls and walks to your car.

“You want me to do a routine maintenance check as well? I have the time.” He asks as he opens the hood.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to.” You say as confidently as possible. Truth be told, you just want to have your car fixed so you can go home. Seonghwa doesn’t respond, he just grabs a mechanic’s dolly, lays his back on top and suddenly his upper half is under your car. A few moments pass by in silence, the only thing filling the air is the music playing and the sounds of metal crashing as he works, and he rolls back out and goes to work in the front trunk. Leaning over your car, working and changing the oil, he once again looks professional and focused, and that makes you curious.

“You work here a lot?” You ask.

“Yeah, every day pretty much.” His back is turned to you, but you see him pull out a pack of cigarettes. He places one in his mouth, flicks the lighter, and a cloud of smoke escapes. His body turns towards you, the pack of cigarettes in hand. “Want one?”

“No, thank you.” You shake your head. He continues to work on your car, cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Is that safe?”

“What?”

“Smoking. While doing that.” You point to the car. You’ve seen too many movies including fire and cars, so a quick concern washes over you, scared that a huge fire would suddenly occur.

“Smoking is never safe. You’re always playing with death when turning one on. If you’re asking if it’s safe to smoke over an open hood, then it’s inconsequential. Your car won’t blow up if that’s what's worrying you.” He glances back at you. His black hair is pushed back, but a few strands have fallen down into his face.

“If it’s not safe then why do you do it?” You can’t help but ask, curious if he really doesn’t care or if it’s just an act.

“Helps me concentrate.” He simply answers, going back to work. “What about you?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“No, do you do anything that's bad for you?” Another cloud of smoke fills the space around him, and he rubs his hands in the white cloth, leaving black stains. The black oil on his hands blends in with his black nail polish, and somehow it looks good.

Just like he was that one time in the library, he’s once again impossible to read. And his question leaves you silent for a moment, not knowing what to answer.

“Oh… Uhm, I don’t know. I don’t think so.” You shrug, and a light scoff comes from Seonghwa.

“Shocking.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your brows come together in question.

His body turns to you, eyes going down to your outfit, hand gesturing to you. “You look like you’d be spending a week in church if you walked across a red light on the street.” There’s a small tug on his lips as he speaks. He’s entertained by you. You look like the complete opposite of him. In your white outfit, knee-high socks, and white little skirt you look like a saint next to him in his all dirty, messy black clothes. Like fire and water, you're the opposites.

“Well, I don’t.” You say.

“You don’t have to take it as a bad thing. Church girls can be full of surprises.” There's something hidden in the way he says it, and the smirk on his lips makes your cheeks blush. “I’ve seen you at school, you know. Often at the library, surrounded by academic books you probably read just for fun.”

“Well, I like the idea of knowledge. It gets you further in life.”

“It depends, doesn’t it? Don’t you think knowledge can hold you back from doing certain things too?”

“Maybe. But I also just like staying at the library. It’s fun.”

Another scoff leaves him, and you get the feeling that he’s mocking you.

“What?”

“If your idea of ‘fun’ is reading at the library, then I’d love to see you on a Saturday night.” He sends you a smirk before going back to focusing on the car. His back muscles tense as he works over the open hood, and you can’t help but stare. The black tank top really does him justice as he moves his arms around, and you shake your head, trying to focus on something else.

“What do you study?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

“Business, language and culture.”

“So you don’t wanna be a mechanic?”

“Still figuring it out.” He answers shortly. “You study what?”

"Psychology.”

"So, those biochemistry books I see you with at the library really are just for fun?" He raises an eyebrow and smirks, making you feel annoyed that he has you figured out so easily.

“As I said, I think knowledge gets you further in life.” You justify. He shakes his head in disbelief and you hear something close to a chuckle leave him. The sound is nice, especially since you’ve never heard or even seen this man smile. So this small chuckle is enough for you to continue this small banter you have going. “You don’t look like the type to go to the library.”

“I don’t think we use the library for the same reasons.” He turns around toward you again and takes a long drag of his cigarette. He leans up against your car as your eyes lock on his figure, eyes piercing on you as he blows out the smoke. “Do you know about the library’s back room, princess?” His nickname for you makes your mind blank, and you shake your head no. “Proves my point.”

“What’s the back room?” You’re curious.

He’s studying you for a moment before answering. “A place to fuck.”

Like a switch, your entire expression changes and you feel your cheeks heat up. Never have you heard of this ‘back room’ before. No, you probably (absolutely, most certainly) wouldn’t even use it if you had known about it, but it shocks you that it’s a thing.

Seonghwa’s smirk grows on his lips as he studies your face. “Your expression says it all. You’re such a good girl you couldn’t even hide it if you wanted to.”

You fall silent for a moment, not knowing what to say or how to move on from here. Until you’re reminded of the first time you spoke to Seonghwa.

“I saw you at the library once. With a girl.” You say shortly.

“Yeah, I remember. The back room was occupied so I took her down to the part of the library no one comes to. Well, except you.” The way his eyes are locked on you while talking about this is making your heart beat faster.

“Is it even allowed?”

“Would it ruin you to break the rules once in a while? Have you ever had sex in public before?”

“N-no!” Your cheeks are burning at this point.

“Don’t hate it till you try it. It's thrilling.” You’re not sure but you think you see him send you a wink as the smirk grows on his lips. A few more strands of hair have fallen down in his eyes, framing his face perfectly, before he runs his hand through his hair to push it back. It makes you fall under his trance for a moment, but you quickly flicker your eyes away, scared to fall for the beautiful brown eyes of his.

“So what, you only go to the library to sleep with someone? You don’t think there’s a better place to make love?”

“‘Make love’, how adorable.” Seonghwa is full-on smiling at this point, enjoying this conversation the more it escalates. The way your cheeks reddened, the slight shake in your voice, your flickering eyes. It’s clear to him that you’re not used to talking about these kinds of things, and he loves it.

“I don’t see what’s funny.” You say.

“You make love on your honeymoon. You fuck everywhere else.” He says, as a matter of fact.

“I don’t.” You disagree, fighting to keep your eyes on him and not back down from his piercing ones.

“No, I figured.” Another cloud of smoke leaves his lips and frames his face before continuing to fix the car, still looking back at you occasionally as you’re having this conversation. “You’re seeing anyone?”

“No.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. His gaze on you seems so intimidating, even his presence itself. There’s a confidence, almost an arrogance to him that makes him so unnerving. But despite this, you can’t help but ask further. “Do you? Since you use the ‘back room’?”

“You only fuck-” He stops himself and holds his hands up. “Excuse me, make love, with people you date?” His questions make you fall silent for a few seconds.

You don’t know Seonghwa well, so this conversation is not exactly what you expected. This question could also open an entirely new topic of conversation that you weren’t sure would be comfortable for either of you.

The conversation about sex is not normal for you, especially since you’re not the most experienced. Despite having been in a relationship with the guy who took your virginity, it didn’t end the way you had dreamed of.

You had always romanticized the thought of losing your virginity to the person you would spend the rest of your life with, but when you found out he had cheated on you during your relationship, your world crumbled. At the time, all of your insecurities came to life, and despite knowing you had done nothing wrong in the relationship to prevent this, you couldn’t help but feel like you had done something wrong when it came to sex.

With time, you promised yourself not to let your ex have an effect on you, so you did everything you could to gain back your confidence, and you did.

You clear your throat, taking your time to find the right answer. “Well... I’ve only made love to one person and that was my ex. So yes.”

“And you only stayed in the bedroom?”

A moment of silence.

“Yes, we did. I just don’t understand why you would do it anywhere but in the bedroom. There’s literally a bed, I can’t imagine how uncomfortable everything else must be.

Seonghwa throws his head back before looking at you in disbelief. “I didn’t think you could get any more good. You must be first in line to heaven when doomsday comes.” He puts his smoke out in the ashtray on a working table next to the car. “Public sex is not about how comfortable it is. And just because it’s public, does not mean people are watching you. That’s a whole other kink.” Seonghwa is slowly making his way towards you on the stool. His large frame is closing in on you, speaking in a lower volume as he’s coming closer. “It’s the feeling of someone possibly being able to see. Having to keep quiet, being close, finding whatever excuse you have to leave and drag the other person into a random room. Comfortability is not a necessity at that point. Then you don’t care if you fuck in a bed, against a table, or the hood of a car.”

He’s standing right in front of you. You try your best to control your breathing as he looks down at you, you have to look up at him through your eyelashes. The smell of cigarettes surrounds you as he is near, but there’s also an obvious pull of something dangerous yet addicting when being close to him. You don’t know where it comes from, but you can't help but want more.

You’ve never caught yourself thinking of Seonghwa this way, but he’s awfully good at wrapping you around his finger and thinking of things you’ve never had before.

“So what, how does this ‘backroom’ work?” You suddenly ask, almost surprising yourself. What did you want with the information? You have no idea.

Seonghwa finds your questions endearing. The innocence in your voice has him smiling, letting you see his perfect teeth. You’ve never looked at him so closely, you find yourself so fascinated by him. The raw, scary persona he is, but yet his face is perfectly made like an angel. Soft and beautiful. You suddenly find yourself completely under his spell, studying his every feature.

“What, tempted to give it a try? I can show you if you’re interested.” There’s a hint of something in his voice, you can’t tell if he’s kidding, but even the thought of him taking you to the room, has you notice a certain heat between your legs.

“N-no, I’m just curious.” Your voice shakes from how close he is to you along with his words.

“Careful with that. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” He then steps back and walks back to the car to continue working on it as if nothing happened. Seonghwa is working over the open hood, unaware of how he left you feeling inside.

Your heart is beating fast against your chest as he casually works in front of you. Like he turned on something inside of you, you suddenly notice things about him you didn’t before. How his hand curls around the wrench, how his shirt lifts when leaning over the car, exposing the skin on his waist, and how his muscles tense when he works. His jeans hang low, just below his waist, revealing even more skin and you somehow can’t help but look.

“Getting awfully quiet over there, princess. Your mind running?” Seonghwa’s head turns to you, catching you looking at him. Your eyes go to his, and you both freeze. He studies your face for a few seconds before grabbing the hood of the car and closing it. You both look at each other, a certain tension between you.

“Come here,” Seonghwa says as he leans against the car. Your body hesitates to do as he says, but you eventually cave in and get down from the stool to slowly make your way towards him.

Seonghwa throws the white cloth on the table before looking down at you. The smell of cigarettes and oil enhances again as you’re close to him, and Seonghwa taps the hood of the car with his hand. You look at the hood, suddenly unsure of everything you do, but push the thoughts away and jump up on the hood to sit. Your feet dangle, but you freeze when Seonghwa steps in front of you, resting his hands on either side of you.

“You’re thinking of something special?” His low voice asks. He’s searching for your eyes, but your heart is pounding and your eyes struggle to stay in one place. The heat between your legs is driving you insane, never having felt like this before.

“No... Maybe.”

His eyes continue to study your face. His expression is still impossible to read, yet his actions make you feel a whole new type of way.

“Look... I’d gladly take you, right here right now, if you want. We don’t even have to fuck, I can just make you cum if that’s what you want.” His bluntness throws you off, yet you didn’t expect those words to have such a big impact on you.

“Won’t someone come in? Or hear?” You worry.

“No. They won’t.” He whispers, slowly leaning forward.

You can’t tell what’s happening, even if you had a gun to your head. Seonghwa is not someone you should be spending time with. He’s the complete opposite of you, yet that draws you in like nothing else.

“Okay.” You cave in.

Not a second later, Seonghwa’s lips are on yours. Everything is happening so fast, that your brain isn’t even realizing who you’re kissing. The guy you’ve seen scare people away from their seats is having his hands on you, pulling you closer for a kiss. His tongue slips through your lips and you allow his every move.

It’s a whole new experience to kiss someone like Seonghwa. The taste, the moves, the desire. He knows what he’s doing, and the confidence shines through, even just through the kiss.

He pulls back, leaving you thirsty for more, and a small tug on Seonghwa’s lips assures you that this is actually going to happen. “First… How do you usually like it, kitten? How do you like for someone to make you cum?” He whispers.

“I’m not.. no one has ever... I mean-”

“No one has made you cum before?”

You try analyzing his question in your mind before you shake your head no.

“I thought you had a boyfriend a while back?”

“I did..”

There’s a short moment of silence where Seonghwa just reads your face and takes in what you just told him. “So let me get this straight... You only had mediocre, boring vanilla sex with this guy, he never made you cum and you still dated him?” He lifts an eyebrow, trying to understand the situation. You slowly nod, confirming his question. “Did he ever cum?”

“Every time.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding... Now that’s just selfish of him,” He removed a piece of hair from your face and leaned his face closer to your ear. You felt him slowly press his lips on the soft spot on your neck before gracing his lips over your ear. “Can I get the pleasure to be the one to make you cum, princess?”

“Y-yes.” You’re almost panting at this point, craving his touch more than you’d ever expect. Seonghwa holds your face in his hands as he presses his lips hard against yours again. The smell of cigarettes surrounds you as you get lost in him, yet you for some reason get addicted to the idea of him. Like he’s your kind of nicotine.

“I’ll try not to get oil all over you.” He assures as pulls away from you.

“That’s okay.” You tell him, suddenly not caring about the stains. This makes Seonghwa’s lips turn into a smirk, slightly amazed at the sudden change in you. His hands run up your thigh, leaving black stains from his fingerprints on your skin.

“You like the idea of my fingerprints on you? Looking in the mirror when you get home and seeing my hands on your thighs?” He goes to kiss your neck as his fingers dig into the flesh on your things. Unable to speak, you nod, wanting him to touch you even more. “Lean back for me, kitten.”

You scoop further back on the hood of your car, leaning back on your elbows to get a view of Seonghwa. His hands go to your hips to drag down your underwear till it completely leaves your body. The cold air hits your heat as Seonghwa parts your legs to lean over the hood and get a better view of your cunt.

“Gosh, you’re glistening, princess. Are you that wet already? The idea of cumming in a public space is turning you on now?”

You don’t get to react before his tongue suddenly slides between your folds, getting a long taste of you. The feeling makes you gasp, but you quickly cover your mouth with your hand, silencing yourself as much as possible.

“You taste so sweet, kitten.” He continues taking long strokes in between your folds, making sure to lick your clit as well. You look down to see his fingerprints on your thighs, turning you on even more. A moan escapes through your lips as he starts focusing on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue on the sensitive nub. You can barely say anything as he takes his time, eating you like he craves you.

“I can’t believe someone had the chance to make you cum, and he didn’t even do it right.” Seonghwa shakes his head with a smirk before taking a few more deep licks against your pussy. “How embarrassing of him.”

“Will you... do it right, then?” You asked, looking at him with doe eyes. Seonghwa stands up further to look down at you spread out on the hood in front of him. His fingers, still stained slightly with black oil, go to your chin, and tilts your head up slightly to get a better look at him.

“Kitten, you’re gonna wish you came to me sooner when I’m done with you.” The look in his eyes almost works like a promise before he leans down to your pussy again. “Tell me how you like it, princess. Use your words.”

Once again you have to fight yourself to get actual words out when he runs his tongue between your folds again. This time, he focuses on your hole, slipping his tongue in before licking up your pussy again.

“Like that... That’s really g-good.” You manage to get out, already feeling the shocks through your body when he licks the right places.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He spits down on your pussy before going back and to lick it again. Your legs slowly give up, but Seonghwa holds them open, allowing him full view and access. He goes back to sucking your clit, making you moan through your hand once again. “Best cunt I’ve tasted, kitten. Sweeter than anything.”

His tongue works around, he knows what he’s doing. He occasionally looks up at you, making eye contact as he runs his tongue between your folds. This makes you go absolutely crazy, seeing him go down on you like this. Eating, slurping you up. The sounds from the repair shop are out of this world, filled with your moans and him slurping all the juices from your pussy.

“Please don’t stop.” You throw your head back in pleasure, slowly feeling your orgasm approach.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He grins. His mouth goes to your clit again, sucking and rolling his tongue over it. Restless with your hand, it goes to his hair and you grab a handful. The black locks in your hand look amazing as his face is against your cunt, eating and licking you up. Your abandonment starts to send shocks through your body, Seonghwa having to lock your legs down so he can continue.

The feeling is overwhelming, you can barely hold back your moans anymore. His tongue is flat against your pussy as he flicks your clit with the tip, making sure to hit all the best spots. He works fast, barely letting you get used to one way before he moves next to the new.

“Seonghwa, I’m gonna-” You moan his name as the feeling of your orgasm quickly starts to form. Lastly, his tongue goes to your clit, sending you over the edge. Your whole body is a shaking, moaning mess as he eats you out of your orgasm. He doesn’t miss a spot as he slurps up the juices from your pussy, licking you one last time, everywhere, before separating himself from you.

You look up to see his chin glistening from your orgasm. He has a smirk on his lips as he pulls you up to sit and presses his lips against yours. Quickly, a specific taste of something mixes as you kiss, his tongue added as well.

“You taste yourself on my tongue?” He asks confidently, and you quickly realize what the taste is. You. “Amazing, don’t you think?” He smirks before giving you one last kiss before pulling slightly away. He stays between your legs as you scoop forward a bit, still on the hood but with your feet dangling now.

“Should I.. with you?” You almost whisper.

“No need, princess. Eating your pretty pussy was enough for me.” He smirks as he places his hands on each side of you. You blush again, never having someone comment on your pussy before, but you can’t help but like how it sounds coming from him. “So.. first time having someone make you cum and it being in a public space. What do you think?”

“It was.. fun.” You admit, speaking the truth. The rush of doing it here, with Seonghwa, at his place of work was not something you ever expected to happen, but it had a thrill you never felt before.

“See, that we can agree is ‘fun’. You have school tomorrow?” The change of subject throws you off for a second, having to get your mind clear after just having the biggest orgasm of your life.

“Yeah,” You reply, remembering something important, “How much do I owe you?” Your words leave him with a wrinkle between his brows.

“For eating you out?”

“N-no! For the uhh.. the car.”

He looks somewhat relieved after you clarify, “Oh... I don’t know, it’s hard to say. I know you said you didn’t want a maintenance check but I couldn’t help but notice that your serpentine belt is filled with cracks.”

You don’t even know what a serpentine belt is.

“What does that mean?” You ask.

“That means that it’ll break at some point and then you’ll risk getting stuck in the middle of the road because your car can’t drive.” He explains, and you suddenly understand the situation. You can't help but notice how quick he is to move on, talking about your car after he just had his tongue in between your folds.

You know he's not a stranger to sex, but that also intimidates you.

“Oh..”

He reads your expression for a second as you try to figure out what to do. You don’t want to be stuck in the middle of the road when driving, knowing that’s gonna be even more expensive. But it’s late, so leaving your car here would mean that you would have to order a cab or take the bus.

“I’m done here for the day. How about I give you a ride home? Then we’ll drive here together from school tomorrow, I’ll finish your car, and you’ll get to drive home in a car that doesn’t have the risk of crashing down at any moment?”

You look up at him to see his expression back to its usual unreadable one, “I mean... If that’s okay with you?” You ask.

This makes him smile. He looks down on your thighs to see the stains he left on you, before meeting your eyes again.

“Of course, kitten. I’ll just grab my stuff.”

He then disappears away and into another room, leaving you on the hood of your car. The fingerprints on your thighs are a raw indication of what has happened tonight, and you’re sure your clothes are stained with black oil as well.

When he arrives again, he’s wearing his black leather jacket. You follow him to his car outside, and he drives you home. When you arrive at your apartment, you can’t help but look in the mirror immediately. Seonghwa’s fingerprints are all over your thighs and hips, almost marking you. Your cardigan, skirt, and socks all have stains on them, and there’s a slight embarrassment in your gut when thinking of what happened tonight.

You can’t help but feel embarrassed at the thought of seeing Seonghwa in the hallways of the university, especially since he has to pick you up from school tomorrow and go back to the place where he just gave you your biggest orgasm. But even so, you’re even more tempted to walk through the door he just opened for you. The wilder side, the dangerous and unfamiliar.

It makes you blush even thinking of him, and when your phone suddenly buzzes in your hand, you’re shocked to see a certain name on your screen.

Seonghwa made you save his contact when dropping you off, saying it was for future car problems. But you didn't expect a text already, and you know the door he has opened for you, is already locked behind you.

Seonghwa See you tomorrow, kitten

Taglist: @canigotosleep--plz (comment if you wanna be added to my taglist!)

#ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez #ateez seonghwa #ateez x reader #kpop imagines #kpop fic

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visceravalentines · 4 months ago

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drowning is only as hard as you make it

bo sinclair x gn!reader

2k words. weird melancholy freak behavior. author's thinly disguised smoking fetish. established relationship (lol). Ambrose is lonely. that's it that's the fic.

He always manages to find you. Every time. It’s not a game anymore, not really; there’s no use keeping score when only one side is allowed to earn points. There are no rules, no satisfaction in the victory. You’d make your way back to the house even if he never showed up. Today you’re not even hiding.

The row of vacant windows across the street catches the last lazy rays of sunlight. A few eager fireflies pantomime shooting stars just above the freshly cut grass. He mows the lawns regularly, every last one of them, dripping sweat in the sticky air. You think it’s nonsensical. He doesn’t care what you think. At least it smells nice. Nostalgic. Painful.

On an evening like this, there should be kids out. Riding bikes, running through the neighbor’s yard. Parents watching from their porches. People chatting, relaxing. Hell, maybe a dog or two. But there is only you, and the fireflies.

The heat of your cigarette creeps dangerously close to your fingers but you wring one last pull off the thing before you crush it against the step. Scorch marks dot the woodgrain like initials carved in a tree, only better, because they’re anonymous. Could've been left by anyone sitting sulking on these stairs and pondering ways to disappear. Plausible deniability.

Too bad you're the only one here.

You set your hand on the pack beside you, work another one out with your fingers without looking. It’s all reflex. It’s all muscle memory. That’s all you are anymore, something that survives without thinking about it.

In that shadowy place called Before, you only ever smoked on rare occasions. At parties or bars, always with friends, always a little drunk. You'd never admit it aloud but a part of you used to pride yourself on your restraint–you could stretch a single pack out over a month or more, until the tobacco had gone stale and the cigarettes tasted like dusty paper. Until it was less of a treat and more like a chore to get through the last few.

Now you drop butts through the grate of your days like maybe you can fill up the emptiness with smoke.

You sigh and light up, take a drag and let it sweep you up above the gutters. You imagine the town might almost be pretty from up high. Hard to tell from here.

“Didn’t know this house had a chimney.”

Some part of you remembers what it felt like to flinch when he got this close. Another part remembers the way you buried your face in his back before he got up this morning. You exhale nice and slow. “Thought you knew everything.”

“Now, we’ve talked about this.” He leans against the rickety railing, white paint flaking off at the slightest disturbance. “You know nothin’ good comes from thinkin’.”

As a matter of fact, you’ve talked about everything already, but that’s never stopped him before. You’ve heard all the stories sixteen times, could recount his childhood from memory one miserable year after another. You know where he got that scar. He knows all about your first kiss. Eighth grade was hard for both of you for vastly different reasons. He’s never been to your hometown but he could probably find your old house. You��ve never met his mother, but you hate her just the same. Favorite movie, worst fear, where were you on 9/11? In a zombie apocalypse, he’d choose an ax. You’d take the shotgun with exactly two shells. It’s almost romantic, except, well.

“Hey.” He slams the heel of his hand against the railing and somewhere along the line, the wood splits with a crack. “What’d I just say?”

You look up, jarred loose from your spiral, and he’s shaking his head.

“Damn fool. Gimme those back.”

He reaches out a hand and you slip one last smoke from the pack before you give it to him.

“Lighter too, baby, c’mon.”

You hesitate for a second, long enough he has to flex his fingers to make the point. You hand him the lighter, keep the spare cigarette, tuck it behind your ear.

He peeks into the pack and his lip twitches. “Fuckin’ glutton. This was full this mornin’.”

“Sorry,” you deadpan.

“Sure y’are.”

You’ve had this conversation too, in just about every house on the street. You wonder if he ever feels crazy, playing it all out over and over again. Probably not. He's composed of repetition, a record that skips in the same place every time it's played. You feel crazy, fucking listening to it.

You watch him work a cigarette loose, watch him hold it in his lips, watch the tendons flex across his knuckles as he lights up. For all the fucking smoke he blows, you still think he looks damn good as he exhales up towards the fading sun. One of life's little cruelties.

“Y’know, supper ain't gonna make itself,” he says casually. Like he’s trying to piss you off. He probably is.

“You sure?” you shoot back, like you’re trying to piss him off. You definitely are.

He chuckles, unbothered. “I dunno, baby. Been wrong before.”

“Yeah? Tell me more.” You're bold these days. Stupid. Dangerous, and not in the same way as the surgeon general's fine print. Dangerous in the present moment. Shaving seconds off your life like taking a pocketknife to a good chunk of wood. But games are more fun with two players.

He doesn’t want to play, though. Probably worn out from mowing all those fucking lawns. He shrugs. “Nothin’ more to tell.”

“Pantry’s empty anyway,” you mutter. The grocery list on the fridge has wrapped back on itself twice over. He’s been cagey lately, reluctant to venture into town. You’re down to canned goods old enough to read chapter books.

“Guess we’ll starve.”

“Guess so.” You flick your rapidly shrinking cigarette and watch the ash fizzle frantically down and disappear. The chorus of crickets crescendoes to a dull roar in the silence.

“You like these, huh?”

You're not sure what he means for a second before you realize he's talking about the cigarettes. You take another drag like you have to mull the taste over, really consider the question. He’s not a patient man, but he waits for your answer.

“Yeah,” you say finally on the tail of your exhale. “Best ones in a while.”

It’s the truth. He's got his own brand and you like it too, but he's a fucking skinflint, and he only buys himself a pack when he's really hard up. Most of the time he scavenges off corpses and out of glove boxes. And you live off his scraps, so.

Regretfully, you stub yours out as the flame hits the filter. Your throat is raw, tongue wrapped in the taste of tobacco. Everything in this town is racing to kill you and you wish something would win already. You can feel him watching you, now and always.

“Somethin’ you need, sugar?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

He exhales with relish. You think about the taste of smoke on his tongue and tobacco on his fingers and you grit your teeth. He’s a vice in every sense.

“You pissed at me?”

What kind of question is that? You peel a chunk of paint off the stair near your shoe. “I’m always pissed at you.” You mean it and you don’t and you’re braced for retribution either way, but none comes.

“Fair enough.”

You steal a wary glance in his direction. He’s covered in flecks of grass. He shed his overshirt in the heat of the day but it’s back on now, unbuttoned, the tee underneath smudged with green. He lifts his hat, rubs his brow with the heel of his hand, tugs it back into place. His face is a little sunburnt in spite of the thing.

“You wanna fight?”

You stop breathing for a second, sit very still. He looks down at you, cocks an eyebrow. He’s really asking.

You think about it, really think about it. Broken skin, broken glass. No neighbors to scandalize. You shake your head. “No.”

He shrugs, goes back to staring holes in the house across the street. You almost want him to be disappointed, but his face is placid, expression impassive. “Alright then. ‘Nother time.”

You furrow your brow, look at your shoes. You pick at the paint, feel it slip beneath your nail like a splinter. You’d bet five bucks you don’t have that he’ll be back to repaint these steps within the week. It makes you want to rip them apart so he’d have more to do. You’re not sure if he’d take that as a gift or as sabotage. You’re not sure how you’d mean it.

“How ‘bout we head inside, feel each other up? See what happens?” You look at him sharply. He’s really asking. “We can do it how you like it.”

How you like it. How do you like it? Does he know? Do you?

Your expression must be a funny one because he grins. “What? You a prude all the sudden?”

No. No, but.

You find the words wedged behind your teeth. “You a gentleman all the sudden?”

He snorts. “C’mon now.” He gives the railing one last yank, almost pulls it loose. As he rounds the steps he drops his spent cigarette and crushes it underfoot. “Scoot.”

You make room on the stair and he sits down heavy beside you, takes up more than his fair share of space, same as always. He smells like sun and sweat and grass and smoke. His sleeve rides up and exposes the pink of his wrist. He pulls it down without thinking about it. You almost–almost–pull it back up.

“I’m just tryin’ to figure you out. Don’t know what the fuck you want.”

Now that's a dumb fucking thing to say. You want a thousand things. A meal. A clock that works. Cable TV. An article of clothing that doesn't reek of mothballs and someone else's fear. A normal conversation with a normal human being. Half a goddamn hour to yourself without the urge to lock the doors and set the house on fire.

Anything. Anything.

“A light,” you say bitterly.

To your surprise, he digs the lighter out of his pocket. Holds it up to show you, like a peace offering. He moves his boots down a step, pats his thigh. “C’mere.”

You straddle his lap and it’s like you’re walking in and out of a room at the same time. Your hands find their place on either side of his chest and he’s warm to the touch like a dog lying in the sun. His fingers play at the small of your back. You can escape into the maze of abandoned homes or the pattern on the ceiling but you can’t slip away from those eyes at this distance. They catch you like barbs on wire, as distant and cold as the sky.

This is how you like it. His head tipped back, looking up at you. You run your thumb along the edge of his jaw and he almost–almost–smiles.

He plucks the cigarette from behind your ear, flips it in his fingers. You open your mouth. He sets it on your tongue. He flicks the lighter, brings it close, and when you breathe in you feel it–the poison of this place, yellow-green, permeating your lungs and all the rest of you. No use in pretending. No use fighting the current. Drowning is only as hard as you make it.

You wonder if he knows you’d come home even if he never came to find you. Maybe that’s why he comes anyway. Maybe that’s why you keep hiding. So you both have something to look forward to. Games are more fun with two players.

It’s not worth thinking about. Nothing good comes from thinking.

You start to exhale and he tugs you close, sucking the smoke from your mouth, because he never can let you keep anything to yourself. Maybe you don’t even want to.

Your lips touch. Tangerine thrums behind your eyes. You’ll go to bed hungry tonight and so will he. One shotgun, two shells.

“Don’t say I never gave you anything,” he murmurs.

You’re already working his shirt off his shoulders one-handed. “Nothing I want.”

He laughs once, almost breathless, leans back on the stairs so you have to lean with him. “C’mon now.”

You toss the cigarette into the dirt to free up both hands.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair fanfiction #house of wax fanfiction #x reader #bo sinclair x reader #wow this feels like trying to remember how to ride a bike and driving immediately into a retaining wall #this used to be my doodle fic. where i would just go and doodle around anytime i had a smol itch to write but not really #well tadaaa it gets to see the light of day #mx. reader's got a nicotine addiction and that is the LEAST of their problems #relatable i think #does anyone even still read how ff???? hello??? i am calling down the empty tunnel in the woods

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poutysprouty · 2 days ago

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GRAVEYARD SHIFT

Working the graveyard shift isn't so bad when your favorite regular customer is a certain 6-foot-tall pink haired man with a bad attitude and tattoos.

pairing: Reader x Sukuna

warnings: nothing too serious. bit of kissing, light fluff. Sukuna is actually down bad lol

wc: 4.2k

a/n: shout-out to the graveyard shift workers who have random crushes on cute regulars. I see you, I feel you, this is for us.

There’s a kind of silence that only exists at 3AM.

It creeps in under the door with the cold, and curls between the aisles like cigarette smoke. A hum that sits beneath the buzzing fluorescent lights and the stuttering wheeze of the broken freezer fan, stretching long and low behind the counter of the corner store where you spend 5 nights out of the week.

You’ve grown used to it. Maybe even come to appreciate it, in some strange way. There’s a rhythm to this job, to the sleepless hours and the hush that is customary to the graveyard shift. A stillness the daylight never allows.

You lean back in the plastic stool behind the register, one foot propped on the edge of the counter, notebook balanced on your knee. The pages are already scrawled with half-finished doodles, little notes-to-self, and fragments of songs you heard but could never name, and would probably forget to look up later, too. You tear off the corner of a receipt and scribble something useless just to give your hands something to do. The radio crackles faintly beside you, low enough not to disturb the silence, with just a ghost of melody buried under static.

Time doesn't move normally here. You don't count it in hours or minutes anymore. Instead, it passes in the whirr of the automatic coffee machines near the donut case. In the flicker of the security camera monitor. In the metallic clink of loose change dropped in the tip jar by the same drunks who come in every Friday night after the bar closes and can’t even focus their eyes long enough to aim properly.

Lately, you count time by him.

Sukuna showed up for the first time three, maybe four weeks ago. You noticed him the way you notice anything out of place during the witching hour. Tall, broad, draped in dark tones with heavy boots that echoed loudly on the tile floor. His tattoos were the first thing you noticed, peeking out from beneath his hoodie and catching your curiosity like a fish caught in a net.

His expression?

Nonexistent. Blank. Something close to, don’t talk to me.

You thought he was just passing through. He wasn’t a regular, you’d never seen him before. That first night, you brushed him off as one of those transient souls the night brings in, gone before they ever become a memory.

But then he came back the next night.

And the one after that.

Exactly 3AM every time. Like clockwork.

He never said more than a few words. Walked straight to the fridge in the back, third door on the right, and pulled out the same energy drink. Paid in cash. Always exact change, left in a neat stack on the counter.

You tried to figure him out. That first week, you watched him out of the corner of your eye, discreet. Told yourself it was just curiosity over a new regular, nothing more. Maybe he worked night shifts. Maybe he was an insomniac. Maybe he just liked the quiet of the night, like you.

But there was something about him that unsettled you, though it wasn’t necessarily in a bad way.

He didn’t browse. Didn’t linger. And while his expression rarely changed, never offered so much as a polite nod, you couldn’t shake the feeling he knew you were watching.

So now, every night, you find yourself waiting.

You won’t actually admit to yourself that you’re waiting. That would make it too real. But you check the clock more often as it ticks closer to 2:40. You wipe down the drink case near his favorite fridge. Straighten the stack of instant ramen cups by the register. Pretend you're doing something useful while your ears strain for the jingle of the front door.

The first time Sukuna ever said anything to you was on a rainy night that was so bad, the radio had cut out earlier with a flood watch notification.

It was summer, technically. But the air that night didn’t carry the warmth that you liked to imagine summer should. It was thick and slow, saturated with humidity, but there was just enough of a breeze to make your arms prickle when it blew in behind a customer. Too warm to be comfortable, too cool to settle into. Even inside the store, the temperature shifted depending on where you stood: sticky and stifling near the front windows, and chilled in the corners where the old freezers wheezed out inconsistent puffs of cold air.

It had been a quiet night. Not unusual. Most of your overnights passed that way. You’d stopped expecting excitement after your first few months. Solitude had long ago become your closest companion. You liked the quiet. Or, at the very least, you’d made peace with it.

You’d been reading for a few hours now, the storm keeping even the most diligent regulars at bay.

The newspaper had been dropped off at the usual time by the paper lady, a thin, wiry woman who always wore a red windbreaker no matter the season and nodded at you through the glass with a cigarette clenched between her teeth. She never stayed long enough to talk. You didn’t mind. Her delivery at 1AM was one of the few constants in your shift.

You’d perched on the stool behind the counter, your knees drawn up, feet tucked onto the lower rung, flipping through the paper’s pages with little more than half-interest. The news was the same as always, but reading it helped pass the time. You’d developed a ritual. Front page first. Then obituaries. Then the classifieds. Then whatever weird stories were buried in the back.

The clock had just flipped to 3AM when you heard it, the faint, familiar ding of the door’s motion sensor. You already knew who it was.

The first thing you noticed was the sound of the rain picking up outside, hitting against the large glass windows. The second was the smell—a sudden rush of cool, storm-soaked air that flooded the space the moment he stepped inside. It rolled in with him, replacing the musty scent of artificial pine and microwaved taquitos with something that smelled like rain-soaked pavement.

And Sukuna himself was soaked.

His hoodie, usually pulled up and shadowing his face, was drenched through. Deep maroon turned almost black from the water, it clung to his shoulders and arms, outlining the cut of him in a way you probably shouldn’t have noticed. His pink hair, wet and slicked back, curled in thick strands at his nape. Water dripped steadily from him, leaving small puddles on the tile behind him as he walked.

Like always, he didn’t say a word. Just headed straight to the cooler in the back, grabbed the same silver-and-black can of energy drink he always bought, and brought it up to the counter.

He set the drink on the counter and reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a $5 bill instead of his usual exact change. That surprised you. You blinked down at it, caught off guard enough to hesitate before reaching for the register.

Then he spoke.

“Keep the change.”

Three words.

That was all.

His voice was quiet, almost too soft for a man like him. But it was low and gravelly, as though he didn’t use it often, like it had rusted around the edges from disuse. It was deep, but not booming. Rough, but not harsh. It was the kind of voice you could feel in your ribs, that made you want to lean in just to hear more of it.

And then he turned and walked away.

No pause, no glance back, no room for idle conversation.

You stood frozen behind the counter, the bill still between your fingers. You hadn’t even opened the register yet.

Keep the change.

Your lips parted slightly, but nothing came out. He was already out the door, the bell chiming behind him. You just stood there. Staring at the door. Listening to the echo of his voice in your head, replaying it again and again like it was one of those songs that played on the radio on a loop.

After that night, something shifted. Subtle at first. But you noticed.

He still didn’t say much. Not at first. Sukuna came in like always, wrapped in black like he was seconds away from becoming one with the shadows of the night. Hood drawn up, broad frame half-shadowed by the crooked overhead lights, his face unreadable beneath the soft glow of the flickering sign above the storefront window. But now he lingered.

Just a few seconds longer by the cooler door. Just a glance held a breath longer than usual when he walked up to the register.

You’d begun to prepare for him without even realizing. Twenty minutes before three, you’d abandon your post at the counter to fuss over the drink fridge, organizing the rows of cans. You made sure the shelves were neat. That the exact energy drink he always picked was fully stocked, chilled, and not a single dented can in sight. You found yourself slicing open boxes from new shipments early, just to make sure there were backups ready.

And you waited.

He’d changed, too.

Not dramatically. Just in increments. A twitch at the corner of his mouth, barely there. The way his gaze would settle on you and stay. One night, after sliding the can across the counter, he met your eyes squarely and gave a crooked, lopsided smirk that ruined your entire night in the best possible way.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t even that attractive of a smirk. More like he’d forgotten how to smile and was trying it on again for the first time in years. But it hit you like a truck. Heat prickled under your skin, blooming in your chest so sudden and hot that you had to excuse yourself to the back storage room, plant your hands on a crate of mop heads, and chug half a gallon of water.

After that, you stopped telling yourself that you weren’t waiting for him.

The old routine faded. You stopped doodling in the margins of receipts or flipping through the paper out of boredom. You still read the daily when it came in, but now it barely held your attention. You kept one ear trained on the door, eyes flicking to the camera feed of the outside of the store just to see the flash of a familiar hoodie coming into frame.

He walked. Every night. You realized you had no idea where from. There were no apartments nearby, and the neighborhoods were too far off. It only furthered your belief that he probably worked nearby.

Then came the night everything tipped just a bit more.

You were rearranging the counter display when he walked in. You looked up to meet his eyes, already on you. This time, he didn’t look away. He just held your gaze like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And then he nodded.

And then, the next night, he said your name.

You didn’t usually wear your nametag. There were too many weirdos who came in at night. But your manager had scolded you before you left the morning prior, so you’d put it on before your shift started. You’d forgotten about it until you saw his eyes flick down toward your chest, just for a second, then back up. You were halfway through the transaction, the crumpled bills already being placed in the drawer, when he said it.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You froze. Not visibly, you hoped. But your lungs stopped moving. You blinked at the register screen for far too long, then watched his retreating form as he left. You didn’t even pretend to go back to work after that. You just sat there, the echo of his voice ricocheting around in your skull.

It started happening more after that.

Little things. Fleeting conversations. A sarcastic quip, an eyebrow raise, a dry joke passed back and forth between customer and cashier.

One night, you caught him staring longer than usual at the cooler, one hand braced against the glass like he was trying to decide if this was the day he tried something else. You didn’t mean to say it, but it slipped out.

“You know there’s water, right?”

He didn’t even flinch.

“That’s for quitters.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “Or people who want to live past thirty.”

He grinned. “You offering me advice now?”

“You’ve single-handedly paid for our entire energy drink section to be restocked twice this month. Sorta feels like my civic duty at this point.”

He chuckled. And just like that, the distance between you shrank by another inch.

You didn’t know what any of it meant, not really. He was just a regular, and you were just a cashier. You didn’t know each other outside his 3AM visits. But you liked how it felt, like something real was building in the quiet hours of the night.

That all led up to tonight.

Your shift had started like any other. Outside, the world was damp from an earlier storm, the pavement still slick beneath the orange glow of the parking lot lights. A moth beat itself senseless against the window by the door.

You were perched behind the register with your elbows propped on the counter, pretending to read the newspaper left by the delivery lady at 1AM but far from focusing, your leg bouncing beneath the counter.

Because it was 3AM, and he wasn’t here.

You looked up from the front page and stared out into the empty lot. The streetlights cast long, harsh shadows across the pavement, but there was no sign of a figure approaching.

You glanced at the digital clock on the register. 3:02.

He’d been late before, sure. Once by a minute. Twice by two. But never more than that. Your fingers curled around the edge of the newspaper, crinkling the cheap paper. You swallowed against the sudden tightness in your throat, trying not to feel ridiculous.

He’s not yours, you reminded yourself. He’s just some guy. A customer. You’re just the girl behind the counter.

Still, disappointment bubbled up inside.

By 3:10, you’d already resigned yourself to a quiet, uneventful night. You’d even gotten as far as folding the paper back up when—

Ding.

The door chime sounded.

Your head snapped up, and there he was.

Sukuna walked in, shoulders relaxed, but you noticed the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes scanned the store until they landed on you. No hoodie tonight. Just a fitted black tank and a pair of low-slung joggers. In one hand, he held a white plastic takeout bag, the handles twisted around his fingers.

Your heart thudded, relief crashing into you.

“You’re late,” you called, trying to sound like you were teasing.

He shrugged one shoulder and came up to the counter, setting the bag down with a soft thud. “You looked half-dead yesterday,” he said. “Figured you probably don’t get the chance to eat on shift often.”

You blinked, brain short-circuiting.

“I—what?”

He didn’t answer, just began untying the bag. The scent hit you instantly—soy and garlic, sweet spice, something fried. Your stomach growled so loudly you wanted to crawl under the counter.

“I mean,” you stammered, “You aren’t wrong, but… you didn’t have to do this.”

Sukuna glanced up through his lashes, mouth tilting into that same crooked almost-smirk that always made your pulse jump. “I didn’t ask if I had to,” he said, tone flat but not unkind. “Just eat.”

He pulled out two takeout containers and pushed one across the counter toward you. Your fingers brushed his for the briefest second, and your skin prickled like you’d been shocked.

You took the food with a murmured “Thanks,” and sat down on the tall stool behind the register, balancing the container on your knees. The harsh lighting of the store made the steam from the food glow faintly, curling up toward your face like an offering. “Seriously. I didn’t even realize how hungry I was.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Sukuna leaned against the counter beside the lottery scratch-offs, arms crossed loosely, his own food unopened for now. He didn’t speak.

And you tried to act normal, like your hands weren’t trembling. This wasn’t some half-minute transaction over an energy drink. He’d brought you dinner.

You peeked up at him between bites, expecting him to be on his phone or glancing at the clock. But no, he was watching you. Not in a creepy way, just making sure you actually ate.

You finished eating slowly, reluctant to let the moment pass, dragging your chopsticks through the last of the rice until there was nothing left to pretend with. With a sigh, you finally peeled yourself off the stool and leaned over to drop the empty takeout box into the trash can behind the counter, brushing your hands clean on your jeans before wiping them down with a napkin.

Sukuna was still leaning against the counter, finally opening his container now that you’d finished.

You lingered behind the counter, watching him, arms crossed loosely as you sat on the stool. After a beat of silence, you spoke. “So, why do you come here every night?”

He didn’t answer right away. He chewed his bite slowly, thoughtfully. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer at all. But then his mouth curved, just slightly.

“Habit,” he muttered finally around a mouthful of rice. “I like routines.”

You lifted a brow at him. “There’s like, half a dozen places open at this hour that sell energy drinks.”

He shrugged, lips twitching. “Yeah. But none with you behind the counter.”

You felt your pulse skip. You looked away before your face could give you away, biting down a smile that tried to crawl across your lips.

Eventually, he broke the silence, glancing over at you between bites. “What about you? Why the night shift?” he asked. Like it had just occurred to him to ask, even though you got the sense he already had a theory.

You smiled. “I like the quiet.”

That earned you a small grunt, amused. He nodded slowly, like he understood. “Does it ever get crazy?”

“Not really,” you said. “A couple drunk guys every so often. Someone trying to pay in change for a thirty-pack of beer. But nothing dangerous. Just weird.”

He chuckled under his breath at that.

You hesitated, heart giving a sharp little kick against your ribs as your gaze lingered on him. You leaned forward just a little, fingers curling over the counter’s edge to anchor yourself, your voice softer than you meant it to be and far braver than you felt.

“You’re one of my favorite predictable things about this shift.”

That got his attention.

His head lifted slowly, and those crimson eyes locked with yours. For a second, you thought he might smirk like he usually did. But no, this time he smiled. Really smiled. It was crooked and sharp and far too pleased, like he liked what you’d said a little too much.

He dropped his chopsticks into the now-empty container and set it aside without breaking eye contact. His frame shifted as he leaned in just a fraction.

“Guess I should keep showing up then, huh?” he said, voice low.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, but you still managed to maintain eye contact.

“Guess you’re right,” you murmured.

And then you just looked at each other. For longer than necessary. Long enough that the sounds of the store faded away. It was like the whole world had gone still, holding its breath with you.

Then Sukuna shifted again, his tone unreadable as he said, “C’mere.”

You blinked, brows lifting. “What?”

He tipped his chin toward the open space beside the counter, that same lazy smirk tugging at his mouth. “Come out from behind there.”

You didn’t move right away, watching him warily. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

The curiosity was too much to resist. So you rounded the counter slowly, arms crossed over your chest as you stepped up to him. And just like that, you were closer than you’d ever been. His height was suddenly more noticeable, the broad lines of his shoulders, the scent of spice and cigarette smoke lingering around him.

He tilted his head, eyes raking over your face, lips twitching. “You look prettier up close,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Smooth.”

“I try,” he said, reaching out without hesitation, fingers curling around the edge of your chin, tilting your face up toward him.

You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

“Wanna thank me for the food with a kiss?” he asked, voice dropping low and dark, smooth like velvet.

You pretended to think about it, lips pursing, eyes narrowing in mock-consideration. “Hmm…”

But you didn’t get the chance to answer.

Because Sukuna leaned in without waiting, closing the distance between you. And just like that, he kissed you.

His mouth met yours like he’d been thinking about doing it for a long time. Like every night he showed up, every glance, every pause, every smirk had been leading here. There was no hesitation in it.

Your breath hitched, surprised, but you didn’t pull back. You leaned in, the warmth of him drawing you in like a tide. His fingers slid from where they cradled your chin up to your cheek, palm rough and warm, thumb brushing the curve of your jaw as he held you there.

And God, you melted.

Everything else faded. None of it mattered. Just him, just this. The kiss deepened.

His other hand came up, settling at your waist. He pulled you to him, fingers curling into your side. The space between you disappeared, and the press of his body against yours was electric.

His mouth moved against yours, coaxing rather than demanding, slow enough to savor but intense enough to spark fire inside. His lips were warm, parted just enough to catch your lower lip between his, a soft graze of teeth that sent a shiver down your spine.

Time stopped.

And when he finally pulled back, it was slow, like he was reluctant to stop. Like he might change his mind and kiss you again right then and there. His eyes opened, half-lidded and heavy with something you couldn’t name, his breath mingling with yours. His mouth hovered a breath from yours, swollen from the kiss, and curved into a smirk—lazy, cocky, and satisfied.

The high-pitched beep of the coffee machine broke through the stillness, loud and jarring in the otherwise quiet store. The sound snapped you out of the haze of the moment, and you jumped a bit, blinking as though waking from a dream.

Then, you laughed.

It was soft at first, almost disbelieving, and then fuller, breathless with lingering adrenaline and the warm buzz of Sukuna’s mouth still echoing against yours. The kind of laugh that started in your chest before spilling past your lips without permission. You felt flushed and ridiculous, like a teenager in a romance movie, except you were standing in a gas station at almost 4AM with the scent of teriyaki still in the air and your lips tingling.

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed in amusement. He didn’t say anything at first, just reached out and tugged you back in before you could step away fully. One hand slid to your hips, the other curling behind your neck, and he dipped his head to steal another kiss. This one was quick, barely more than the press of lips, but it stole your breath anyway.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he murmured.

You stared up at him, your lips parted and heart thudding like a drum against your ribs. He released you and leaned back against the counter. He glanced toward the clock, then back at you.

“See you tomorrow?” he asked.

You still hadn’t fully caught your breath. “Only if you bring dinner again,” you said with a teasing smile, hoping it didn’t look as shaky as it felt.

That got you another smirk. Wider this time. Pleased. “Noted,” he murmured.

He pushed off the counter with one hand, raked the other through his tousled hair, and started toward the door with that same unhurried gait he always had. You watched him go, not ready to move yet. The automatic door slid open with, letting in a whisper of cool, damp air that smelled like car exhaust.

He paused with one hand on the door frame, and glanced back just long enough to give you one last look.

And then he was gone, swallowed up by the darkness.

You stood there for a bit, fingers brushing the countertop, smile still tugging at the corners of your mouth.

It wasn’t until you turned to walk back behind the counter that it hit you.

The energy drink.

He hadn’t bought his usual.

Your eyes flicked to the cooler, where the rows of brightly colored cans sat untouched.

You exhaled, a small laugh catching in your throat. He’d come all this way, just for you. Not an energy drink.

Just bringing you dinner and a kiss.

Your face warmed all over again, and you shook your head, grabbing the coffee machine cleaner from under the counter with a smile that wouldn’t quite fade, no matter how many times the damn machine beeped.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader

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darlingofvalyria · 2 years ago

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❝Daemon doesn't know what to do with you.❞

[ Never piss off your wife. She might acquire a living, breathing punishment for you. Aka, Daemon made a mistake and you're his punishment ft. Rhaenyra stay winning. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 1,985 ] | Daemyra x Sugar Baby!Reader

contains— sugar mommy x sugar baby, open relationship/understandings, toxic relationship??? allusions of cheating, established realtionship - nsfw: oral, p & v sex, v & v sex, pet names mainly: darling, sweet girl, good girl, praise, male masturbation shshhs - you piss the shit outta daemon (as you should), slight angst? - sort of daemon-focused since it's in his pov, but rhae's the only one allowed to touch you lol - no targcest bc its the modern world and that would be weird.

a/n— i dont want to talk about it, okay. comment/reblog/like at will ❤️️

Daemon doesn't know what to do with you.

With your soft noises encouraged to heighten in pleasure whenever Rhaenyra had you over- and after initial test drive of the first few times, stretched in months to weeks to days - she had you over all the time, at random times of the day. Any time the boys or his girls weren't by (being taken care of in the park, Harwin or Laena's visitation rights, Rhaenys wanting to take them off for Corlys weekend fishing trips)- your mewls turned unbridled shouts of pleasure now filled the high-rise.

You permeate the space like a cigarette stain; you didn't even need to be godsdamned present anymore. It starts with your perfume- it's lighter than Rhaenyra's but heavier in sweetness. Vanille. A touch of it that he's foul to recognise. Lipstick stains on his wife's neck, her blouse, where he can imagine your lips drag and bite and suckle because the kids are too young to understand and it's not like he's not one to leave his own marks, but there's a thunderous boil that drums in his veins when he realises you're leaving your own on his wife.

You fill the nooks and crannies like a plague, and you don't even care about him.

Worse, you taunt him.

And it's not like he could say anything to Nyra.

After all, the two of them had an understanding after he got caught with a minor dalliance of his own. It was a one time thing, and he only got blown, but it was enough for a talking to. A mutual agreement that was really just him pacifying his wife.

He really should have focused on the crooks of how upset she had been, on the gleam in her eyes when he thought she had simmered down. That her fire, though not as brightly lit, was still very much burning.

"You can have any sweet thing that you want, husband, as long as you keep them away from the kids. As long as you keep it quiet and away from me. I do not want the details." Nyra's mouth had curled. He remembered. She took up the space behind him, wine-kissed as she was, her fingers dancing on his shoulders and kneading at the tough centre of the nape of his neck. His eyelids fluttered and he barely heard her next words.

"In return, you will not make a fuss when I take mine, hm?"

Daemon had laughed. He remembered that. A soft, more air than sound laugh.

He took her hand to his lips and smirked up at her. Shark-like. Baiting. Daring. "As you wish, wife. In return, you can tell me all about it."

There was a strong part of Daemon that didn't think she'd actually do it.

Rhaenyra had smiled that smile that reminded him of godswoods and Valyrian necklaces, passed down from generation after generation. A silent vow louder drew from blood.

There was a strong part of Daemon who thought his wife was jesting, making a bluff, a toss of a coin.

Until you arrived with a sweet smile and a tinkling little laugh.

Until he had found his wife with her face buried between your legs, your hands— freshly done nails and glimmering rings, new, he later found out from the bank transcripts — and your back arched, your mouth gaping in a silent scream as you come undone.

It took a minute for you to see him, so stuck in that pleasure that broke and free-fell through you several times because 'Nyra didn't want to let up, calling you her sweet girl, her darling girl, that's it, you can take more, can you? aren't you my good girl?

When your thick lashed-eyes finally met his darkened lilac gaze, lipstick still perfect red, still perfectly plump and moist, your mouth curls into a charming little smile and said, "Oh, hello there."

Rhaenyra looked up, and at the smirk on her face, your spend all around her ruined lipstick and chin— Daemon knew she wanted him to see. Wanted him to know. It's a bullet shot down his spine, straight to his cock. It's a cold thrill and grasped fingers around his throat with rings nestled to make indents.

It's a violent blend of jealousy and lust, and the cocktail emotion rages in him, swirls and punctures.

There is a bite between Rhaenyra and Daemon, a fiery edge that often saunters the edges, crosses a new line. But each time, after each rough push, they come back to one another; a tether of becoming, of pulling taunt. Once again united. They are assured in each other's positions; you can play with anyone but you always come back to me.

Rhaenyra has won this one. She had snapped, pulled, and arose victorious.

But they always come together. And often, enjoyed sharing.

What Daemon forgets sometimes is that he is a younger brother, and really, Rhaenyra was the eldest and the sole eye of her father. When righteous selfishness burns with a petty need to make her husband suffer, it heels hard.

"She is mine, husband," she whispers at the edge of his lips, riding him through a slick, sex-haze after you had left. Her thighs slap against his own, his hands harsh on the indents of her waist as she rode him with no abandon, uncaring for his pleasure this time, selfishness the game this time, but the renewed roughness brought him to the early days of their marriage. That unbridled want, a clash of teeth and skin and raw, burning lust.

There is a growl and a hiss, a moan and a gasp; blood has beaded through bitten flesh and bruises are blooming. This is fucking from the high of a third party dancing on their marriage.

And Rhaenyra's refusal of you to him made him throb.

She had seen him high-strung, plotted him to be harder than a box of rocks, already harshly yanking his tie in anticipation of having his wife and you with your fox gazes and sire song, but Rhaenyra had turned away from him, ignored him, and slapped your thigh before kissing your cheek.

"Come back next time, darling, my husband is home." It was said in a tease, a lighthearted joke between two people he was not a part of, but he knew his wife; recognised the bite. The smugness.

And by god, you were in on it as you thrilled a laugh and slid your gaze to his, undressing and fucking him with your eyes as you bit your lip. Your words are to Rhae, a hand on her cheek and a thumb rubbing at the corner of her lip, but your gaze is devouring him. He wasn't a green boy, but you seemed amused and feral for the hard-line of his manhood. As if you can picture what he would feel like buried deep inside your guts, and enjoyed it.

"Am I just going to be yours then, hm?" you asked amusedly, finally turning to her.

Nyra turned her gaze then, to him, and smirked. "You, I will not share. A fitting punishment, don't you think? Some jewels are meant for one alone."

And you had laughed, the gall of you, taking your bag (new one too,a matching one with his wife) and walking right past him. Your scent- his wife's fucking scent, the smell of her cunt on you and his dick throbbed - devoured him as you left him with a wink and a quiet, "too bad."

You had not even gone inside the elevator of their penthouse before a growl tore through his chest and he had met Rhaenyra's thundering footsteps with his own, their tongues and teeth clashing for dominance, ripping apart clothes, wanting to bury each other in the other's skin.

Now, she reaches her peak with a yell and a full body shudder, her cunt clenching and squeezing, demanding his release, and he jolts with her with a swear of his own, his cum flooding her in thick, sharp bursts.

Even then, as Rhae smiled sweetly, post-peak glow simpering her fire, sweetening her kisses against the side of his face, his neck, running a tongue over the worst of the bruises and bites— Daemon thought, surely, now that his wife had reached post-coital bliss and forgiven him, punishment had been had? That he was free to have you, to play with you?

But no. You were off limits. Hers and hers alone. A punishment that keeps on giving as the echoes of you exist in his life in patterns he was starting to fucking loath.

The scent in the bath- the echo of the warmth of someone having used it recently, someone who wasn't his wife, in the pillows of his living room, the barest smudge of makeup as if your face had been pushed against them. In the snacks and drinks that he, nor his wife, nor their children, particularly like, fill up the corners of his kitchen. The lipstick stains on his wife, the running mill in the bank statements (the new necklaces, new dresses, new fucking lingerie he hasn't seen), and when he had finally had enough, shoving through his own house to talk to his wife that the least she could do while she was fucking you was be allowed to be there, he hears it then—

Your shouts of pleasure falling into sighs into giggles, and when he slows to his marital bedroom, you are there— breathing heavily, alive, real— naked and slicked, a goddess divine, with Rhaenyra inside you in more ways than one, baring her teeth in a victorious grin before falling into a laugh at his face.

"Am I allowed to have him now, is that it?" you ask, seemingly innocent. One of the new necklaces in his statements on your neck and nothing else. Chest moving in shuddering breath having just orgasmed and yelling it.

"Your choice, sweet girl," Rhae purrs, leaning back over your form to run a finger from the valley of your breasts to your stomach to your clit that turns your shudders to an outright jolt, then a sigh, when she starts fingering you in front of him. The squelch is obscene, and Daemon is hard, and he is not a fucking boy but he is starting to hate you as much as he wants to fuck the lazy smirk on your face, pleasure so obviously building once again. Soft sighs, mewls, escaping full, raw lips.

"I kind of... want him to watch a little. Just- ah! Nyra there, please - sit still and pretty." You smirk, giving him a pouty air kiss. The urge to strangle you sings in his blood. Hold you down and fuck you until you're better pliant, sweeter, fucking cooing for him. Fuck the spoil Rhaenyra has ingrained in you away.

You turn to the silver-haired woman on top of you, now on her haunches, pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. She held his gaze as she pressed her tongue flat against before taking a glorious, heavy-gazed lick.

Daemon swallows.

"Is that- ahhh, okay? Nyra, hmm? Please?" You sigh ever so sweetly, kindly. Though you're ridiculously spoiled, you were a good girl, following so obediently. If his cock didn't feel like it was burning to be inside your mouth, he would have revelled in it.

You squirm, turning back to him to hold his gaze while his wife started to fuck you through her tongue and fingers.

Someone up there was taking a piss on him. He pulls out his cock, a grunt and a curse, because fuck it, fuck you in particular— as the two of you continued on while keeping eye contact with him.

He took one step closer and Rhaenyra hissed.

"Whatever you want, baby." Nyra smirks against your pussy as he tugged at himself, teeth bared. "You're his punishment after all."

#hotd smut #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemyra #daemyra smut #daemon x you #daemon x reader #rhaenyra x you #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra x reader #daemon targaryen smut #rhaenyra targaryen smut #hotd modern au #hotd x reader #daemon fanfic #daemyra fanfic #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒

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katarandaa · 4 months ago

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The Augmentor - part 1

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Pairing: F! reader x Sevika

Set in season 1 between act 1 & 2.

Augmentor: Someone who specializes in augmenting the human body with mechanical or Shimmer-enhanced parts.

Summary: You’re a well-known augmentor in Zaun who - through your sibling Ran - take on a special commission to make Sevika a mechanical prosthetic after her accident.

CW: alcohol use, swearing, smoking.

Word count: 4.2k

AN: this is my first Arcane fic! It's a bit long, but I'm FINALLY happy with it after working on it slowly for WEEKS. This is basically just my MDD universe lol. (There will probably be a part 2). Hope you enjoy ~

PART 2 (coming)

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

The music from your speakers was blasting in your workshop, you were bopping your head to the beat while working on a rusty prosthetic leg a customer had dropped off for you to fix. Smoke filled your nostrils as the cigarette you put out in your ashtray didn’t completely extinguish. You didn’t hear the elevator doors open and someone entering your workshop until the volume of your music dropped. You quickly turned around to face the elevator to see Ran through your goggles standing by the speaker.

“Ran!” You propped the goggles you were wearing onto your head and smiled at seeing your sibling dropping by for a surprise visit. “Didn’t expect to see you in here today. Your hand need a fix?”

“Hey, no, I actually have something to ask of you,” Ran said as they made their way down the steps into your shop. You put your tool down and spun around on your stool to face Ran, inviting them to keep talking.

“So, you need to hear me out on this one, YN - I need you to do a commission, -” Ran said and leaned on one of your workbenches.

“I don't know Ran; you know I don't really do commissions anymore. Just doing repairs is so much better,” you said the second you heard them say commission, turning your attention back to fixing the metal leg laid out on your workbench.

You had stopped accepting commissions after overworking yourself, and now you ran your business only doing repairs and occasionally some modifications for people who already had mechanical prosthetics. Doing commissions wasn’t easy work, it took months of work, long hours, loads of people involved and a lot of planning, so you decided to take a step back and work on a much smaller scale.

Ran walked closer to you. “It’s an important request, and I seriously need you to consider doing this job. I told them about your work. We really think you’re the best augmentor in Zaun for this job.” Ran flexed their prosthetic hand, which you had made for them several years ago. You sighed again and glanced at their hand before continuing your work.

“It’s a request from Silco - Sevika needs a mechanical prosthetic,” your heart jumped at the sound of her name. “I know you heard of her accident. They know of your previous work, and they want you to do it; they specifically requested you. The pay is really good, it’s from Silco’s pockets, so you’ll be compensated for your time and hassle, and then some.” Ran really tried to sell you this gig, and you could feel the desperation in their voice. “And I know you have a thing for Sevika, you know-”

“I do not!” you interrupted Ran and snapped your head in their direction. “What makes you say that?!”

“YN, she’s totally your type, and I’ve noticed the way you look at her and act whenever she’s nearby - you get all stiff and nervous.”

You stayed quiet for a moment. “Is it that obvious?” You almost whispered.

“To me it is,” Ran smirked.

You had met Sevika several times at The Last Drop whenever you were out drinking with Ran or your friends. You had never really spoken, but you knew that she knew who you were; all the shared glances, the drinks sent to your table, thanking her by raising your glass in her direction, your blushing and fiddling. You had always been too nervous to approach her; she seemed to distant, and so unattainable.

“Fuck,” you muttered and couldn’t help but crack a smile. “ I don't know. It’s always too much work doing commissions - the clients always have way too high expectations, they never respect the timeframe I give them, they don't pay what they owe. It’s always such a hassle,” you explained, sliding the goggles off your head and running a hand through your hair. “Plus, if it’s for Sevika I’m gonna be all nervous, what if affects my work and I don't deliver her a good product?”

“YN, it’s gonna be fine. Just do what you’re good at. Please just come meet with them, have a chat about your conditions and the pay. I already told them I would talk to you and bring you in for a meeting tonight.”

You tilted your head back and sighed hard, looking over at Ran. “Ok, fine,” you said, and Ran quickly muttered a quiet “yes”.

Ran came running towards you and wrapped their arms around yours. “You’re gonna do great, I know it.” You wrapped your arms around Ran and squeezed before getting up, both of you disengaging from the hug. “And, maybe you and Sevika can get to know each other a little better-”

“Ran!” You interrupted them and hit them playfully on their arm. “Inappropriate! She’s my customer at this point.”

"Alright, fine,” Ran chuckled. “Just, don't promise them anything you can’t deliver. And don’t let them rush you.” Ran squeezed your arm.

“Don't worry, I won’t. Let’s just go.”

The atmosphere at The Last Drop was calmer than usual. The last time you visited was to get a few drinks after work with Ran on a busy night. The same night you had seen Sevika sitting at her usual table, cards in hand and a hefty sum of coins in front of her, the other men around the table looking stressed out with their heads in their hands.

Ran leads the two of you through the bar and up the stairs towards Silco’s office. Outside the door were two guards keeping an eye on the people passing by. They saw Ran and opened the door for the two of you, one of them following you inside.

Inside the office, Silco sat at his desk, and Sevika to your left, sitting on the sofa, a cigarette in her mouth and a whiskey bottle and a glass on the table in front of her. You also noticed that her hair was down, and not in her usual half up half down hairdo; it looked good - maybe even cute.

Ran greeted the two with a nod and closed the door behind you.

“Ran, good to see you,” Silco said from the other side of the room, a cloud of smoke swirled around him from his cigar. “This is the augmentor?”

“Yes, sir. This is YN. She’s agreed to come talk over some terms and hear more about the job.” Ran said and sat down at a round table to the right side of the room. You were stood in the middle of the room as you felt Sevika’s eyes on, leaving your stomach in knots.

Silco looked over at you and stood up from his chair behind the desk and walked in front of it. “Alright. What are these… conditions?” He pointed his hand, which had his cigar resting between his fingers, towards you for you to speak.

“Well, first of all, I’m gonna need to know exactly what you’re commissioning,” you said and put your bag on the floor beside the low table to your left. “I’m assuming it’s not just a mechanical prosthetic.” You crossed your arms over your chest and peeked at Sevika, your eyes met for a brief moment before you looked away, to her left arm, or whatever was left of it, which was covered by her cloak.

Silco quickly took the word: “You’re right. It’s going to be used for fighting, as well as just being a prosthetic. Enhance its strength with shimmer, in a way that makes it more responsive and lethal. Find a way for shimmer to be injected into Sevika’s bloodstream in small doses. Obviously it needs to be sturdy and durable; it needs to withstand blows and return them twice as hard. The attachment needs to be secure - no risk of it coming loose, but make sure it's flexible enough for her to move freely. You’re making a weapon, not an ornament. This sound like something you could do?”

You suddenly felt a little nervous having everyone’s eyes on you, waiting for your response. You looked at Silco.

“Of course, not a problem. But if I am to agree to this, I have a couple of terms. I have my own team of doctors and surgeons who are experienced with installing mechanical prosthetics. And if you want the commission to be done faster, I expect a supply of shimmer. I also want one month pay up front before starting the mech.”

Silco was looking at you as you named your terms, almost threatening. “And a few free drinks from your bar would be nice... Sir,” you added. You heard a light chuckle from Sevika at your last comment.

Silco and Sevika exchanged a look before Sevika broke the silence. “Sounds like reasonable terms to me, sir.” She took a swig from her glass, finishing her drink.

“I can get behind your terms. But I need to know an approximate timeframe,” Silco said as he took a puff of his cigar.

“Usually for mechs like this, the planning and design will take about a week, the manufacturing of the arm itself will take anywhere from three to six weeks. Then there’s the installation, recovery and physical adaptation, which I’m guessing in total will be about three weeks at max, but I’m gonna have to hear with my doctors on that one. So, in total, if everything goes to plan, about two months. But with some shimmer, I will be able to work faster and more efficiently, and Sevika’s healing period will also be sped up.”

A silence grew in the room. You could tell Silco was digesting what you just explained. “I imagine that you probably want this to be done much faster, but good work takes time. I promise you that I will make this commission my top priority moving forward. But I’m not going to rush this to a point where I feel like my craftsmanship gets diminished.”

Another silence fell over the room until Silco broke it. “Alright, you’ve got yourself a job, YN. Don’t disappoint me. I will supply you with shimmer. Don't forget that I want it done as soon as possible.” Silco voice way low, almost threatening. He turned his back to you and sat back down behind his desk. “When will you be able to start?”

“I can have you come over to my workshop tomorrow so I can have a proper look at you,” you said and looked at Sevika - she nodded in agreement.

“Great. You two have a plan. You,” Silco said, pointing at the guard standing behind you by the door. “Get the girl her pay.” The guard nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind you.

“I’m gonna need your address,” Sevika leant forward and looked at you with an intimidating look, taking a long puff of her cigarette and exhaling it through her nose. She looked really good. Fuck. You tried to push your thoughts aside; you had to remain professional.

“Oh! Right, of course!” Your nerves had gotten to you. You grabbed your notebook and pencil from your bag on the floor and scribbled down your name and the address, the name of your workshop, as well drawing a quick silly doodle at the end of it out of habit and handed the note to Sevika.

“You enter through what looks like a tinker’s shop, or a salvage shop, you’ll see a sign that says Junk and Joints and loads of scrap in the windows - can’t miss it. Just tell whoever’s in there you’re there for me and they’ll send you down,” you explained. You thought you saw a slight smile tug at Sevika’s lips as she looked at your note.

The door opened and the guard came back with two pouches in his hands. He walked over to Silco who was sitting at his desk reading over some paperwork. Silco looked at the pouches, squinted and waved his hand before looking back down at his papers. The guard walked over to you and dropped the two heavy pouches on the table in front of you. “Your pay.” The guard said and exited the room again.

“Ooh, thank you…” you muttered and looked inside them. In one of them was your money. In the other, vials of shimmer, looking to be enough to last you about two weeks. You put them in your bag along with your notebook.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she looked up at you and gave you a slight nod, her face back to being stern with her cigarette hanging from her lips.

Your heart fluttered for a second before speaking. “Yeah, I’ll see you.” Ran came up behind you and put their hand on your shoulder and walked towards the door. You quickly flung the now heavier bag over your shoulder and exited the office with Ran.

As you heard the door shut behind you, Ran turned to you. “You did good. They seemed to like you.”

“Were you concern they wouldn’t?” you said playfully as you walked down the metal staircase.

“No, not really, but they don't fuck around. You would know if they didn’t like you.”

“Shit ok, I’m glad you didn’t tell me that beforehand - I wouldn’t be able to keep my cool.” You walked to the front door before stopping and turning to Ran. “I’m gonna head to the shop and get started on some ideas. I’ll see you soon.”

“Good luck,” Ran gave you a quick hug. “See you!” You waved at Ran and headed out.

You were sitting at your workbench doodling in your notebook with a cigarette between your lips - your music was playing from your speaker, but this time it didn’t drown out the sound of the elevator arriving at your floor. You felt your heart race as you saw Sevika stepping into your workshop.

“This a good time?” she asked and looked around.

You shot up from your stool and picked your cigarette from your mouth. “P-perfect time! Please, have a seat in my so called - living room,” you stammered and gestured to the other side of the room; an old sofa and two armchairs, and a small run-down coffee table with a few old mugs, an empty wine bottle, a candle and an ashtray.

Sevika walked over and sat down on the sofa against the wall as you hurried over to your speaker to turn the music down, now barely audible.

“Alright, so, I’m gonna ask some questions and I’m gonna need some measurements after,” you walked over to ash your cigarette in the ashtray and took a seat in one of the armchairs, notebook and a pencil in hand.

“I got the whole ‘mechanical shimmer arm that deals possibly fatal blows’ shtick,” you waved your hands in the air as you spoke, “but do you have any other requirements that I should know of before I start?”

“The most important part is functionality. If it can’t win me a fight, it’s useless,” Sevika lit a cigarette, taking a long drag from it before continuing. “It needs to have some sort of buff to it.”

“Shimmer can help enhance the hits by hydraulic force, and as Silco requested, I’ll integrate a shimmer system for both injection, infusion and storage - so I don't think you can get more fit for fight than that.”

She nodded. “It also needs to be durable – I don't want you skimping out on the materials here,” she said in a demanding tone. “Don't have the time to constantly come in for repairs. I need reliability with this thing.”

You nodded your head and smirked. “Of course, only the best.”

Sevika scoffed and took another drag from her cigarette. “And it can’t be too heavy, I’m gonna be wearing it outside of combat as well. So don't go too crazy with your fancy mats.”

“Sure, no problem,” you spent a few minutes jotting down some more ideas in your notebook.

“I made an exception for you, y’know.” You broke the silence.

“That so? Why?”

You shrugged. “I stopped doing commissions, but Ran practically begged me to take this job. And when I heard it was for you, the decision was kind of a no-brainer – it seemed important, so I wanted to help.”

Sevika scoffed, smoke from her cigarette exiting her nostrils. “You and Ran close?”

“You could say that,” you smiled and kept your eyes on your notes. “Alright, if that’s all, I wanna get some measurements of you while you’re here,” you said as you stood up and walked over to your workbench to get some tools, as well as a whiskey bottle you spotted on your shelf.

“You want a drink?” you asked and held up the bottle.

“Sure.” She fumbled with the buckle of her cloak for a few seconds before getting it, she swiftly slid it off and left it on the sofa arm. Under her cloak she was wearing a tank top, revealing her broad shoulders.

You grabbed two clean cups from your shelf. “It’s nothing fancy, just some stuff one of my customers brings along whenever she visits for repairs,” you explained as you walked over to the sofa where Sevika was sitting and put the cups and the bottle on the table. You nervously sat down on her left side and poured the two of you a drink, Sevika immediately finishing hers.

Sevika shrugged. “Not bad. I’ve had worse.”

You took a sip of your drink before turning towards Sevika to finally have a look at her.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen an amputee; you had seen several people having lost anything from legs and arms, to hands, feet, fingers, even noses. Prosthetics was your most common request when you took commissions, and you keep repairing all sorts of prosthetics. But Sevika’s amputee scar looked different. The scar had healed nicely and it looked fine - besides the blue lines going from her healed wound up her shoulder and neck to her cheek, and over her chest, her tank top hiding the full extent of it. They looked like scars, and they almost had a blue shine to them. It kind of looked like she had been struck by lightning. You had never seen anything like it; it looked cool, but you would never dare tell her that.

Sevika leant forward refilling her cup with whiskey as you gently touched her shoulder, she briefly flinched at your touch and gave you a nasty side eye, but didn’t pull away.

“I’m gonna have to touch you, y’know,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

Sevika scoffed and picked up her cup, bringing it to her lips. “As you please,” she muttered and glanced at you. You felt your cheeks go warm at her comment.

Her shoulder was stiff, but you couldn’t tell if it was because of the amount of muscles this woman had, or her being uncomfortable because she was showing you something vulnerable - or maybe a mix of the two. She probably wore the cloak for a reason.

You got on with the prep work, pulling out your measuring tool to measure her shoulder, jotting down the numbers as well as thoughts and ideas in your notebook, even things you might not even need, just to be sure.

“Could you stand up for me?” you asked and stood up, holding out your measuring tool.

Sevika looked up at you and hesitated for a moment before ashing her cigarette in the ashtray on the table and getting up. You almost gasped at her big frame and height as she stood up in front of you, she glanced down at you, waiting for you to do your thing.

Sevika kept her eyes on you with a stern look as you stepped onto the table to get better access.

“Hold out your arm for me?” you asked quietly. She obeyed, and you measured the length of her arm, as well as the width, quietly muttering the numbers so you would remember.

“How close?” Sevika broke the silence.

“What?”

“You and Ran.”

You chuckled at the fact that Sevika had been thinking about your earlier mention of the two of you being close. “Oh, we grew up together – we’re siblings. Their parents took me in when I was a kid.”

You wrapped the measuring tool around her neck and put your hand behind her to grab onto the tool, looking at the measurement.

“People often think we’re a couple. We don’t quite look alike, but if you know we’re siblings you can tell how our demeanors are similar. And we have the same laugh.”

Standing this close you could smell her; she smelled woody, like cigarettes and whiskey. So hot. You gave her a quick glance and saw that she was looking directly into your eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel a small smile tug at your lips.

You snapped out of the moment and stepped down from the table, grabbed your notebook from the table and wrote down the measurements.

You heard a sigh from Sevika as she sat back down. “What the hell are all these measurements for anyway? Aren’t you just making me an arm?” Sevika asked and grabbed her drink.

“A lot of these are just-in-case-numbers; I don't wanna be running around Zaun trying to find you in case I missed a measurement.” You sat back down and kept your notebook in your lap.

“You don't?” Sevika smirked and took another sip of her drink.

You could feel your cheeks get hot again. “Not really, no,” you chuckled. “But if you’re not running around doing Silco’s dirty work, you’ll probably be at The Last Drop.”

“You might be right about that.”

“But – to answer your question, there are a lot of things that go into making a prosthetic arm. I want to get the size of the mech right; don't want it to be loads smaller or larger than your other arm. And I’m gonna be making you a harness.” You took a swig from your drink.

“What am I gonna be needing a harness for?” Sevika asked, her tone was as sharp as usual.

“When you get your arm surgically attached, you’re gonna have to keep it in a harness for a few weeks while it heals. And the weight and feel of the arm is also gonna take some time to get used to - don't wanna fuck up your shoulder. It’s just for the first few weeks,” you explained, keeping your eyes on your notebook. “I don't doubt your strength, but it will get tiring, no matter your physique,” you pointed towards her with your pencil. “Especially if you’re gonna be fighting with this thing.”

“Guess you have a point,” Sevika muttered. “But I can’t be completely useless for too long. I have shit to do - business to deal with.”

“I know you do, but you have to take the healing period seriously. If it doesn’t heal right you’re just gonna make this take even longer.” Your tone was strict.

Sevika just scoffed and took a swig from her cup. Her hand was so big compared to the cup, her fingers to long and her fingernails pristine, which was kind of surprising. You sat there observing her for a few seconds before snapping out of your trance.

“I-uh, have everything I need from you, at least for now,” you put your notebook on the table. “I want you to come back when the first part of the prototype is done so I can make sure it’s a good fit for your shoulder before we commit to anything. Then you’ll also be able to have a look at the blueprints - see if you like the design and stuff.” You leant back into the sofa, putting one leg up, your knee to your chest.

“Sounds good. When do you think that’ll be?” Sevika dragged her cloak back around her shoulders and fumbled with the buckle for a few seconds.

“I think I’m gonna need about a week to design and plan all of it, and about one or two more weeks to make the first parts of the prototype, depending on how long the shimmer Silco supplied will last me.”

“You know how to reach me?” Sevika turned her head to look at you, her face stern, but not intimidating as usual.

“I’ll find a way, but I’m guessing I’ll find you at your usual spot at The Drop.”

“Oh yeah? My usual spot?” Sevika smirked.

“Yeah, I know where you like to sit. Seen you gamble and put some of those crude old men to shame,” you said and chuckled lightly.

“You calling my men crude?”

“Yeah, I am.” You smiled smugly.

“Hm. You might be right,” she grabbed her cup and finished her drink. “Guess I gotta get back to my crude men.” She stood up from the sofa, the weight of her moving shifting you slightly.

“Alright, you do that. I’ll see you in a few weeks!”

“See you.” Sevika gave you a nod and a smirk as she got into the elevator.

#arcane #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #arcane fanfic #arcane fic #arcane fandom #sevika x female reader #sevika my love #sevika x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic

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salmonlyster · 2 months ago

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hes waving at you hes just weird

ive used the name frances the most but fritz is really growing on me :p okay more thoughts under the cut lol

im not sure i like the idea of him being on a scholarship anymore since that implies he has an attachment to the school which is NOT like him at all. my initial thought was hes on a scholarship because hes valuable to the student body (again, really smart when he puts effort into things) but i think thats a bit too complicated and i would have to work around that logic a lot.

he's still in constant danger of being kicked out, though. and a constant target of harassment. he doesn't do it on purpose persay but he doesn't make any sort of effort to conceal what he does whatever the fuck he wants. type of guy where you would think he has no social awareness, but he's very aware! he just doesn't care. type of kid that flushes random shit down the toilet or puts firecrackers in it. burns his homework in the bathrooms. hides cigarettes in his boxers and skips to go smoke behind the dumpsters.

him and illi are the first to meet each other (and on illi- i love the name illi, and will definitely keep it, but will likely change their last name :3). illi is really frustrated with school because it's miserable for them, but they just kind of float by without bothering anyone else. illi has a bit of a complex about it where they feel like they should at least be bullied or something of the sort to justify how much they hate school. in short they enable each other and become public nuisances, but there's a weird dynamic about it. willis has been a target his whole life, and is ambivalent towards it because of how he's grown up with it, but is frustrated with illi's fascination with that. illi struggled talking to others growing up and goes days without speaking to their classmates, and struggles to form substantial connections to others. there's never a negative attitude towards illi by the student body, but there's never a positive one, either. they have a lot of pent up rage and think that getting beat up on the near daily would make their anger worth something.

on the socialization thing, louise's conflict with others is less that he can't form connections, and more that he isn't particularly interested. he takes his academics very seriously and eats lunch in the teacher's room (one of the english teachers) (which I will get into later in a louise-focused post). he views school as "networking" and more like a professional work environment than anything, so becoming friends with others isn't something he thinks about doing. if he put in the effort, though, him and illi would be equally awkward.

also, i really like the idea of willis being trans, simply because his uniform is worn really interesting. the pants are lower on the hips to give the illusion of a longer torso, which is something that trans men (myself included lol) do to conceal their hips/give a more masculine frame. i know the intention was just to be a sloppy uniform but i think it could be interesting. I likely won't take that idea that far.

also let me know if youre interested in the playlist im making for this :3 ok bye now ill prob not like this drawing in the morning but we ball

#my art #art #mcr #my chemical romance #im not okay #mcr fanart #frank iero #thanks for all the support on theshitty doodles i did of them all muahmuahmuahmuah

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rottiens · 11 months ago

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hi sorry for coming in your asks again lol but I'm thinking about endeavor..... like idk he's just always in the back of my head

anyway have you considered divorced detective endeavor??? like he's completely neglecting his family & responsibilities as a father, his ex-wife is shacking up with his younger (hotter) subordinate, basically drowning himself in alcohol and cigarettes. the one routine he's kept all these years is coming into your bar at the end of the week, getting a little too drunk, and letting the alcohol flirt with you (but you've always brushed it off knowing he's married). you've listened to him vent countless times and had to call a cab to take him home just as many.

you can clearly see the ways he's fucked up (it's pretty much always his fault) but you also see the regrets washing through his mind. he wants to be better, but he keeps slipping into the same habits.

he's been coming in a little more often lately, he hasn't mentioned the wife and kids in months, and he's not wearing a wedding ring anymore. He doesn't flirt with you as often as he used to, but not because he's not interested, because he is. because he's afraid of it going somewhere. because he's afraid he'll ruin your life like he has done to the rest of his family... and because he's convinced he doesn't deserve you.

i'm sorry i'm just so obsessed with a divorced detective au ok and i cannot believe this thought has not entered my head....

You really put me in a difficult situation here. Because I'm torn between the idea of, what would he really do? Would he walk away from you completely or would he continue to indulge a little more in the idea of flirting with you, knowing he shouldn't have you?

You miss him. You miss the Enji who would come to talk to you, babbling on about work problems without getting to anything specific because, of course, he can't discuss such topics with a civilian. But you are so full of life and hope, unlike him and everything he touches that he can't help but want to spend a little more time with you and Enji hates the bitter taste the hangover brings along with your image the next day.

After the divorce, he keeps wearing the ring for a few more long weeks, hoping that his failed marriage could be mended again. He knows he did it wrong, he knows he's been careless and a bastard, but he also knows he's selfish at heart and that the idea of having a happy family is so appealing.

Yet he lets it go. He lets go of his wife and his kids who are leaving with her, and you. He cuts off every shred of happiness in his life because he is tormented by the idea of being truly happy. Enji convinces himself that he doesn't deserve it. After all the bad decisions he has made throughout his life, he only deserves to sink into his misery, into the boxes full of items his wife never went to pick up from the house, into the loneliness of the cold walls, and into the ghosts his children's laughter left behind.

Enji refuses to go back to the bar, to see you. But he has no choice but to accept when one of his subordinates invites him for a beer, something to relax for the weekend.

Like every Friday, the bar is full of people. Pop music he dislikes is blaring from the speakers. I should go home, is what he's saying to Keigo just as he catches your gaze behind the bar. Your fingers greet him animatedly, sealing the words he was about to say and walking, as if spellbound, to where you are.

Enji can't believe you look prettier than the last time he saw you. You have a different haircut, a new uniform and your smile is so warm and genuine that his chest hurts; he couldn't remember the last time someone greeted him with such joy to see him.

Immediately, guilt grows like weeds inside him, weaving through his insides and creating roots.

You pour him the same old drink and his cheeks heat up at the thought that you remembered exactly which beer he likes.

"Thank you," he says without looking at you, picking at the foam dripping off the rim of the glass with one finger.

Your warm fingers cover his for a moment, drawing his attention to you. His fingers are still trapped on his lips, the gesture of tasting the beer foam.

"Is everything okay?" you raise your voice above the music.

Enji hesitates for a moment. "Work keeps me busy."

You purr away from him and turn your back on him, clearly not believing the half-truth he just told you, but you don't probe further.

Other customers approach the bar and you continue to prepare the drinks. Enji feels your gaze on him, which he avoids at all costs, gulping down the beer as fast as he can and eyeing Keigo on the dance floor, enticing some dance partner to accompany his peculiar moves. As he comes back to the front, you're smiling at him again, placing another full glass of beer in front of him.

"I thought you forgot about me," you comment innocently, leaning a little into his personal space.

Enji doesn't pull back, but you see him tense under the white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and suspenders that cling to his broad shoulders. His lips quiver not knowing what to say. Pathetic. Maybe you do the same with the other customers, and yet you still have him trembling with your mere presence.

"I couldn't forget you. You guys are my favorite."

You purr, reaching out to touch his hand to the watch hugging his wrist. The hand reads 11:35 at night.

"Are we your favorite or am I?" You look up at him through a slow blink.

Fuck. Something beats in his chest and in his pants. He'd forgotten this: the thrill of flirting with someone, with you, of feeling wanted. Of feeling desired. When was the last time someone touched him? He doesn't remember the last time he came in someone.

Enji clears his throat and, against his will, pulls his hand away from yours to toss a few wet red locks back.

"I think I should go."

"So soon?"

Enji had to get up and run before anyone else noticed the visible bulge against his thigh, smothering between the fabric of his pants and his now damp briefs.

"Yeah, I-"

"Stay. One more beer, on the house," you smile at him. Enji barely notices that you had clung to his forearm before he could escape. "Please." You lean in, and he takes a peek at your cleavage. Your lips find his hot cheek and leave a fleeting kiss there. Enji feels his whole body boil with heat.

He knows he's going to ruin you and hates himself for it. But he can't think of the consequences when that pussy wraps around his cock like it was made for him.

"Slow down, it's been a while.."

But you cling to him like you don't want to let go. Your nails on his back, mouth open gasping for air.

The bar is already closed, so your moans and his grunts are the only thing accompanying the music now. Your hips buck desperately as he thrusts you upright against the counter.

"Easy there.." growls enji, burying his fingers in your hips to keep you still. "Hold still. Just feel it."

Enji rolls his hips deep, his pants puddling at his knees. His curly hairs meeting your bare clit.

"Like this… nice and deep. Take it like a good girl."

His heart beats so fast, his balls tight around your drooling pussy. Every time he thrusts deep you lose the rhythm of your breath for a moment, the full force of his body and thighs pushes you against the counter, weakening your feet off the ground and you can only look at him with eyes full of eagerness as you split on his fucking thick cock.

And when you ask him to cum, to cum inside you; enji has no doubt. He's going to ruin you. And he hates himself for it.

#wr #enji x reader #enji smut #endeavor x reader #endeavor x you #endeavor smut #enji todoroki x reader #enji todoroki smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #wr.enji

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