#not to mention he's giving a platform to his guests

[gammagoop]

sorry i need to post this. i deeply do not fuck with fortnite friday conceptually nor in practice.

i think its just reinforcing this insane (and popular) idea that in order to win an argument/debate you have to seem like you dont care about the subject and not take it too seriously. caring about politics is cringe. if you get worked up over something L crashout. which is fucking stupid BY THE WAY! i think its good to have personal investment in serious issues that affect peoples lives!

and like i really hate to say it but it its kind of the definition of virtue signaling coming from both sides. ok not the definition bc that term usually refers to more lefty positions, but you get what i mean right. theyre both just saying what they feel like they have to say, without much reason or feeling behind it. of course it goes without saying that i think whoever the right-wing guest is has flawed critical thinking skills and pushes ideology which is fundamentally harmful to the wellbeings of many, many people but... like. connor is kind of saying nothing. i have no idea what the point of these streams are. theyre framed like interviews, conducted like debates, and yet i seriously doubt anyone is having their world view changed by watching. its just nothing media.

[tonycries]

Madam Kamo - C.K.

Synopsis. Bréeding kínk? Going feraI? What the hell is that? Maybe your sweet clan leader husband knows the answer…

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Choso, arranged marriage, mentions of heirs, he’s a little ínsane, elders are awful, MARATHONS, he goes FÉRAL, BRÉEDING, creampíes, a lot of cúmplay, semi-public, dóm Choso, oraI (fem rec), cervíx kíssing, making it fit, bulges, cúmflations, matíng presses, dúmbification, overstím, making him CRY, p talking, spítting, HEADLOCKS, slight 5 + 1 things, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 9.3k

A/N. CLAN LEADER CHOSO CLAN LEADER CHOSO

Choso Kamo - firstborn son of the ancient Kamo clan, more of a myth than a man.

Those who attended the sprawling Kamo Estate never dared utter a word about him; and those who didn’t, well, he was all that they could talk about.

He left no evidence, he left no remorse. 

Only rumors of a silent, stoic leader who could slaughter four entirely different clans before he let even a singular whisper of it spread amongst the masses. Ones of pretty mahogany eyes, and a silver bow and arrows that hit the target of your very soul - so fluid it was as if he’d forged the weapon with his own blood. 

And then there were the other rumors - more gossip than anything, really. Spread throughout every nook and cranny of stuffy social functions about how the deadly Kamo clan leader had another, secretive side. A softer side.

But, of course, rumors were rumors. Choso Kamo was simply an enigma.

And…your new husband.

“Zoning out, hm?” A hot gust of breath sends shivers sprinting down your spine, and in an instant you’re snapping your eyes to latch onto deep, hazel ones. Choso’s. The edge of his plump lips curl slightly upwards, “My apologies, this wedding reception is quite droning, isn’t it?”

Hastily breathing, “N-no! Of course not, I…” You’re wincing when yet another wizened elder saunters up to the raised platform of your table. Probably the hundredth of the night. “-yeah, maybe a bit.”

Choso stifles out a rumbling bout of chuckles as he catches your gaze, so close now that his pearly white teeth almost nick your sensitive earlobe. “Let me take care of this, my wife.”

And when Choso shifts over to nod curtly at your oncoming guest, you couldn’t help but appreciate how beautiful he is. All tall, towering lines of lean muscle, his silken black yukata wafting of heady cologne, and delicate features that made him have almost as many admirers as he did foes. 

Or, at least, delicate features that were currently twisted into something hardened. Something exactly like clan leader Kamo of all the stories. 

He’s tilting his head up, long lashes narrowed, “Elder Tanaka, a pleasure.”

“No no! The pleasure’s all mine.” The older man slurs drunkenly, and despite the way his words were just dripping with saccharine sweet politeness, years of suffering through these exact interactions had made it easy for you to spot faux niceties. Like right now. “Or should I say- the new madam’s. You must be glad to marry into a clan as esteemed as the Kamo’s.”

The plastic smile that smears all over your face is painful, and you’re biting your tongue before it betrays you. “Yes, of c-”

“My apologies for cutting in, madam.” You’re startling - but you don’t know whether it’s because of the softened fingerpads that intertwine around yours, or the utter fire curdling in Choso’s eyes. “But I must say, I am the lucky one here.”

Oh.

Elder Tanaka is more impressive than you thought - his mask of respect barely even cracks, other than the jerky twitch of one eye. Honestly, you don’t think he’s ever heard Choso speak this much ever before. Quickly gathering his bearings, “Ah- ah, of course, master Kamo! Correct as always!”

Fuck- you can’t hold back the way you roll your eyes, only remembering yourself when Choso’s engulfing hands loosen from your own to give your thigh a warm squeeze. 

“You have wedded quite the catch, of course of course.” Your unwelcome company finally, finally looks at you properly. A sneer coating his slow blinking, “I-I simply meant that considering the master’s incredible power, wealth, and options, what she brings to the table-”

“-is herself.” Choso finishes off monotonically. “And that’s all I need.”

Choso’s words were husky, his grip on you tight. And you wonder if he even realized just how hard he was clutching onto your heated skin - mountains of his palm dragging a smooth up n’ down your clothed leg.

You knew he was well-hidden underneath the lacy tablecloth, you knew that not a single elder, family member, or friend bustling about your wedding reception could see that particular touch over the dim yolky lighting. 

But something about it just made you feel hot. 

It takes you a few fuzzy seconds to realize that Elder Tanaka was still speaking - in fact, he’d even summoned over a few more members of the council to encircle your decadent table. All the more voices speaking at you rather than to you.

“-that’s what I was saying-” You’re catching croaked-out snatches of conversation, warily eyeing the way the men clap each other supportively on their backs.“-it’s about the right time don’t you think?”

Another one nods, “Jin has been waiting for so long, after all-”

“-yes yes, to have an heir-”

Oh.

That’s what had Choso’s high cheekbones currently dusted with a faintly blossoming rose pink. That’s what had his thickened digits dipping past your luxurious evening yukata to rover between your thighs higher, and higher- like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. 

Like he was yearning for it.

“The Kamo clan shall have an heir.” You’re interrupting their ramblings, the mere sound of your voice enough to make Choso’s fingertips twitch. Smooth skin prickling with heaps of goosebumps already when you lock eyes right with his. “As soon as my husband is ready, right?”

And Choso Kamo was brought up with the most rigorous of training, raised to never show even the barest flicker of emotion - especially one where he’s caught off guard.

But right now he knows that he looks as stunned as he feels.

Coral pink maw falling into a soft oh! dark whirlpools of his eyes glinting with something so utterly raw. The trembling tips of his fingers lurch up just the barest inch to drag a lazy line down your pussymound. 

He’s instantaneously shifting his free hand up in one, fluid motion to cover the feverishly flushed half of his face. Jaw clenching with a sharp click! of his teeth when he swipes the fat pad of his thumb down a fresh bead of your leaking slick, making such a flimsy mess of your drenched panties. Was this all for him?

Because now Choso’s getting…greedy.

And you’re almost letting off a slight whimper when he hastily drags his scouring hand away - that is, before every and any sound dies in your throat once your husband dips his wetted thumb past his lips and sucks. 

Subtly. 

And his voice cracks oh-so-pathetically, “R-right.”

Eyes staring deeply into yours when he parts his doughy fingertips mere millimeters to lather it with a fat wad of saliva. Your breath hitches in your chest, frantically glancing at the babbling group of men who were, thankfully, way too absorbed in themselves to notice your little…tryst.

And it’s only with all his years as a seasoned fighter that Choso’s nuzzling his soaked digits back between your jittery thighs. In a flash.

Planting exactly three soppy smack! smack! smacks! plapped onto the perfect arch of your drooling pussy. Choso’s raising his neat brows at just how those tremors make you squirm in your seat.

“Ch-Cho—so-” You’re gasping under your breath, hips repeatedly shuffling on your cushiony chair when he licks up repeated, sultry circles- no, wait, hearts along the slippery slit of your covered cunt. Up and down. “Th-they might see…”

“Shhh, don’t want them to hear, baby.” He’s leaning in to pant out a murked cloud against your ear, throat bobbing with a ravenous swallow of saliva as he then probes a few stuffy fingers under your panties. “You seem stressed– Let me take care of it.”

Oh, it was a promise - and the rasping growl that bled into Choso’s tone told you that he was well and fully intent on accomplishing his little task. “Spread those pretty legs now.”

With a steady, muscular calf hooked with your own, he’s cracking your thighs evermore parted. The scorching hot press of his big, beefy forearm over your shoulders making you feel as if you’re on the verge of melting. Practically on his lap now-

“Is everything alright, master–?” You’re hearing from what sounds like somewhere over in the distance, even though you already know that it’s from right in front of you.

“Everything is quite alright.” Choso’s plush pecs vibrate with his rapid answer, and you’re finding yourself leaning your weight onto his. Huffing and puffing near the crook of his neck, “It seems the madam is just feeling a little ah…tired, right now. Continue your talk, elders.”

Tired - you couldn’t feel more riled up if you even tried.

“Ngh- Choso-” You’re sinking your teeth into your wobbly lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. High, carved chair singing off a slight creak! when you’re bucking your hips up to jostle his gluttonous fingers closer to where you wanted him the most. “-need you.”

Well, whatever his wife wanted - you got. 

In simple nanoseconds, Choso’s snugly prying away your gauzy lace. Letting the too-thin fabric snap back against your sappy cunt with a teasing little swat!

Before you can blink, he’s gracing your panties with microscopic tears at just how eager he was to give your plump, buttony clit a good, hard push. Cold golden wedding ring perking up against your most tender spots. Flexible wrists bending towards an even vulgarly deep angle to keep you from escaping-

And you think you could scream, you think you could open your mouth to make a scene - before Choso beats you to it. Purring out an oblivious, “Is everything alright, my wife? You seem a little feverish.”

All the while slipping n’ sliding his fingerpads to smear your gluey pussylips open. Mazing down, down, down in a lecherous little pace to plug up your geysering entrance snugly full with two of his fattened digits. 

You’re clutching helplessly onto Choso’s thick yukata sleeve when the elders stare over at you curiously, “I-I’m fine, Ch- my husband. Just a few post-wedding jitters.”

“Awww, that’s alright.” He’s cooing from above you, words sugarcoated with such gentleness - but his hands were anything but. “M’here, m’here.” Setting out a vicious, ceaseless pace that has his manly fingers outlining numerous circles round n’ round your tight, flooding entrance. Motioning in slight, sleazy swirls all around your elastic hole just to fit inside properly. “Your dear Choso’s here, y’know? And I’ll take such good care of you.”

“Ah! Of course-” Ring out the replies, evidently your hurried-out shudders were not enough for your guests to lose interest. Or for Choso, either - because he’s just feeding your slobbering orifice with more fat inches upon grinding inches. “-producing an heir is a very integral part of the marriage contract. It’s understandable to be nervous.”

Shivering, “S-sure.”

“Mhm—” Choso’s trawling his pouted mouth down your perspiration-simmered temple, “-a very integral part. But, of course, we’ve got to make sure that my beloved wife is-” Quirking the very edge of his digits to clash right into the target of your g-spot. “-ready, after all.”

The clingy embrace of your warm cunt so cozy that it’s bumping Choso’s metallic ring further and further from his hilled knuckles to dredge out a chilling, languid massage along your channel. 

It takes everything in you to manage up a half-heartedly narrowed glare up at your chatting husband, easily conversing his way through every battering ram being placed on your pretty pussy. 

He doesn’t make a sign - he doesn’t even make a noise. Nothing except for a sharp, sudden inhale once another innocent peck at your lips makes your filthy hole fountain out a fresh lather of sickly sweet juices. 

Dripping all the way down to his wrist with thickly viscous adhesive, he’s making such a fucking mess. And a loud one, too. 

Slurp after slurp being wrenched out with every pound of his neatly cut nails patterning out little indents onto your most favorite spots - ones that have your legs shaking underneath the humid table. Choso’s bouncing his knee to drum out a staccato against the floor, just to cover up your cute little melody.

He has you going insane.

You’re pushing apart your legs to dig into either side of your chair with just how desperate you were for him. For more more more.

Bumping your thigh against one of his, and the mere touch is enough to send shockwaves down Choso’s sloped body. 

“Trying to tease me, baby?” He’s hovering over you even closer, darting out a hefty thud! of two fingertips- no, three - when did he even bully in another one - onto the goopy roof of your cunt. 

“M’not-” You’re biting out, head lolling ever-so-slightly backwards when Choso furrows his brows and pumps out copious thrusts that hit your forbidden g-spot dead on. Engulfed so deeply inside your hot core that the gentle curves of his palm smudge against your clit now. “J-just keep- talking.”

And, truly, it wasn’t just because your company was peering over the two of you expectantly - it was because Choso sounded so very hot. 

Vibrato husky with an animalistic sort of need, tremoring ever-so-slightly-

“Agreed, I would like a few sons and daughters.” Choso’s nodding along smoothly, although his full attention is focused on you. His wife. And the way your sweltering hot gummy walls clench around his bludgeoning fingers even tighter at the words. Faster. “Maybe three. Maybe five. Although, it’s up to the madam.”

In the corner of your eye, you’re catching them all staring at you, and you urgently force out a nod.

“C’mon now, answer them using your words like a big girl, why don’t you–?” He’s humming, tilting your burning face up. Faster. So that you can’t hide.

Lilting shrill just as unbalanced as your head was, “Y-yes-”

But of course, that wasn’t enough - that would never be enough. “Louder. They can’t hear you over the music, baby.”

Can’t do anything but claw down drawings of red, red lines all across Choso’s milky arms when he bustles into the targets of your honeyed spots even harder. Unsteady syllables spilling out from your lip before you can even register them, “Yes- yes. As…many as possible.”

“That’s it- good girl.”

Fuck. 

And those raked scratches make perfect artwork for him to admire - just as he was admiring you right now. 

It was just such a shame that the others here were, too, even if they didn’t know the complete and utter sin happening just underneath the table cloth. Sloppier. 

Choso’s kissing his teeth, broad deltoids of his shoulder positioning to hide you away from any sleazy gazes. Because they could be near, but they couldn’t see. You were his.

“Then, it’s settled-” He’s drawling, hooded eyes locked onto you. Memorizing your every minute twitch and reaction when he urges his free hand to hold onto yours on your lap. Or, at least, that’s what it looked like to the outside. In fact, Choso’s snugly prying apart your silken robes to roll over your throbbing clit and pinch. “-we can look forward to an heir, soon. Right, madam?”

And that’s all it takes for you to cum.

Your head tucking into his sculptured shoulder, thighs closing with a dull clap! as your high crashes into you headfirst. You don’t need to mutter a single sentence for Choso to know.

For his eyes to widen just a fraction at the way your treacly slit only got infinitely dewier, rounded gumdrops of your slick sprinkling down in a weepy sheen all over his messy hands. Mouth going parched at the realization that you’re orgasming right here, right now. 

“O-oh? Seems my wife agrees.” Choso’s waving those elders away now, not taking his eyes off of you for a single second. It was just too adorable how you were shaking like a leaf at his side, “Well, m’glad. So- so…glad.”

Motioning your hips in such salacious semi-circles to bump up his upright fingers against your every extra sweet orifice.

Your sticky walls were so staggeringly tightly wrapped around him that it’s making his forehead bead with sweat, low puffs of air escaping with every peak he fucks you through. Every peak of white-hot pleasure that he draaags out until your guests are finally - finally - walking back to their own tables. 

“Sh-shit-” you’re mewling when Choso barely hesitates - barely even takes a quick sweep around the room to check who might be looking - before parting from your sappy cunt with a resounding squelch!

Immediately popping those viscously-glazed fingerpads into his starved mouth, he’s letting his glassy eyes sprint to the back of his head. Musing out a moan, “Fuck- fuck!”

You can only watch with an awed gape whilst Choso stares right into your heart-shaped pupils as he cleans himself off. One by one. Before trekking his lustrous fingers back over to your cunt, and measuring out a wide few inches - perhaps nine - from the base of your teary entrance up to your tummy.

“Choso…” you’re whispering, hazy eyes blinking up at him as if through molasses. “Wha’s that for?”

And Choso only grins, stray range of knuckles thoroughly bitten underneath his gleaming canines while he measures you up. 

As if he was holding back. Keeping himself sane. And the half-lided greed in Choso’s eyes told you that he’d fuck you all proper right here and right now if he could. “N-nothing- just making sure of somethin’, my wife. Making sure that you can take me.”

Oh. 

This was far from over. You were fucked. 

And you were completely and utterly sure of it even if the topic of an…heir didn’t come up for the next few days after that. 

Not that you didn’t think about it, though - it was hard not to, when your fatally notorious husband showed such a tender side of himself with his younger brothers. 

With you.

And soon enough even through all the bustling meetings and duties of a madam, you’re still figuring out a way to tell Choso that you really weren’t kidding about what you said during that wedding reception.

Sure, you were drunk on his fingers but - that wasn’t just all, was it?

But you’d sorely underestimated just how busy a clan leader could get. And before you knew it, putting off the conversation for the morning after your wedding night had turned into putting it off for the weekend. 

Then putting it off for next week. Two weeks. 

All the way until you’re trudging along the winding corridors of the Kamo Estate during the most unholy hours of the night. Grumbling groggily to yourself about how you’d finally told him and it had ended supremely well - in a dream, that is.

Choso had been absent for almost the entire day today, attending an important land negotiation with a far-off clan, according to Jin. 

Now, you knew just how powerful your husband was - it was impossible to escape the legends and rumors, in fact - and you trusted him. Still, you couldn’t help but toss and turn the entire night away in your coldly empty bed as you wondered just how safe he would get home.

You’d been to such veiled conferences before, after all. 

And it’s simply pure worry that has you dragging yourself out of your king-sized bed to shuffle into the barely-lit kitchen. Stifling half-blindly in the moonlight through cabinets and coolers to find ah! Exactly what you’ve been looking for. 

Thank goodness this place was empty right now, you didn’t know if you could handle it if the chef was here to lecture you about balanced diets when you’re bites deep into your sugary, shaved icing.

And it’s exactly with this thought in mind that you hear a loud thud! emanating from the far end of the hallway. Your eyes widen, ears searching for more-

Footsteps. 

At this time? Your fingers itch towards the sparkling display of knives tucked in one corner of the granite counter. Ready to aim for that tall approaching shadow, ready to fling just as Choso had taught you when-

“Baby?”

“Oh–” Your breath comes out in a heavy gust of relief, eyes unable to tear away from the shaded outline of your husband, taking up every inch of the doorway. “It’s just you, Cho.”

It was. But there was something about Choso that seemed…different. Off. 

But not in a bad way - your eyes rover appreciatively over the tautly flexed muscles of his upper half, peeking out almost-blasphemously where he’d shrugged the upper half of his deep purple yukata off. 

Glinting bow and arrow stained with crimson, held in one tightly-gripped hand. Your nose wrinkles at the slight, dangerous scent of something metallic. Something not his. 

Yet, you can’t help but ogle the slow path of dewdropped sweat trailing down between the curvaceous bulge of his heaving pecs, bumping up and down over his washboard abs, before disappearing below-

It’s like you’re being bolted with an instant flash of lightning as soon as this happens, snapping your eyes over to find Choso’s weighty ones. And oh- the moment you do it’s like something in him melts. 

THUD!

You’re jumping when his weapons hit the floor - uncaring of whether this might alert anyone else in the household, uncaring of anything other than crossing the sizzling distance between the two of you in three urgent strides. 

You don’t even have the time to process it before Choso halts right before you and falls to his knees. Dark lashes fluttering up at you, he echoes, “Baby.”

Like a broken little mantra. 

“Ch-Choso- baby-” It’s just about the only thing you can manage out through hollowed gasps when he’s immediately digging two hands on either side of your hips to easily and pliably seat you on the icy counter. Just where he wanted. “-what’s gotten into you?”

“Dunno.” He’s garbling out, and you’re letting your boneless legs tumble further and further open to let him bury his face right at his favorite place - into your fluttering cunt. “Was jus’ thinking about you alllll day.”

And you could tell.

Because Choso’s every movement was depraved. Jerky. His sensory fingertips trembling when they card underneath your cottony sleep garments, bringing it up to his canines to rip–!

All with his mouth.

“Fuh-fuck-” You’re squealing at the sudden hit of cold air - followed very closely by a scorching hot breeze overtaking every inch of your cunt when Choso leans in and sniffs. Long, hard. Curdling out a feral keen at the back of his throat, “-that’s so filthy, baby.”

“Nothing’s filthy for me if s’you, madam.” At the glint of something slobbering and sharp, you can tell that he’s grinning. “If s’you or…her.”

He was enamored with your ready core, curving a gentle thumb down the glossy edges to give your driveling hole a good trickle of spittle. 

And Choso Kamo knew he had perfect aim - he knew he didn’t have to make a mess. 

But oh, he couldn’t keep himself from tilting his head just degrees to the side to let the splatters leave dripping wet splotches down your saturated folds, your inner thighs. 

Tongue so long, lolling out drunkenly to smear away that filthy excess. He’s poking heated ounces again and again back into your soppy entrance. You were practically flooding torrents of sweet, sweet juices around him, already making a mess that lacquers his dimpled chin. 

You were always so sweet - so good for him. And he can feel his ears pop already with the greedy anticipation of what he was craving to do. 

“Think you missed me, too.” He’s snickering, teeth sinking down onto the fleshy nub of your clit. It’s enough to make you want to sob. “Didn’t ya?”

Gyrating your hips in such hypnotizing little swivels off of the smooth counter, you’re feeling his candied breaths hit your gummy walls even deeper. Sloppier. Whimpering out, “Yes- yes. Missed you so badly, Cho–”

“Oh yeah?” He’s tensing up the dexterous edge of his tongue to swipe up unhurried skids of his roughened tastebuds around and around your quivering entrance. In and out. Syrupy slick leaking in heaps right as he does, Choso tilts his head back to let those gooey masses slide down his throat. “Mmm— you’re wetter than usual, baby. How badly do you want the ngh- clan leader on his knees for you, hm?”

It was true - and Choso can feel something coiling and coiling heatedly at the base of his stomach at the idea of giving you perhaps…a kid…or two to make sure you’re not so lonely anymore. 

Ah, he was pussydrunk. 

“So- too badly.” You don’t think you’d ever be babbling away like this if Choso wasn’t making out with your needy cunt like that. 

You’re tangling your fingers hastily into his dark, silken locks - gripping desperately onto his sweat-dampened scalp as you use up all your strength and push. All the way until the very tip of Choso’s button nose was meeting your pulsing clit in a harsh smooch, his chin smacking the teary ends of your cunt.

Words tremoring against the very outer ring of your puffy pussy, silvery strings of saliva n’ sap break off when Choso mutters, “Was talkin’ to her, y’know?”

Fuck. 

And you think you would be huffing and puffing about how he was talking with your dousingly wet cunt instead of you. 

That is, if you weren’t talking back to him from between your legs. 

Because the only thing louder than the slack-jawed ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips with every repeated thrust of Choso’s tongue, was the sound of your soppy squelches. “Ohhh- so that’s how your day was? Tell me more…”

So loud - so embarrassing that you can feel your heart race.

And Choso’s was, too, but for a much more lecherous reason as his tongue clashes even harder to draw out those very same pretty noises from you. He was craning his ears closer - he was addicted. 

“Yeah-  yeah, tha’s right.” Choso’s groaning, eyes faltering droopily until they were almost shut at the way his husking growls only make you wetter. Well, he could help with that. Hitting your hot core with wad after weighty wad of even more sugary spit. “Thaaaat’s fuckin’ right, missed how mouthy you hah- are. My talkative girl.”

“Cho- ngh!” You’re biting down on your tongue to hold back your words when Choso raises up a hand to leave a solid spank right on your bloated pussymound. 

He’s nodding along, head lurching intoxicatedly ever closer and closer. Wiping away a glistening streak of slick painted over his blushing cheeks - his blushing cheeks. “That’s right- would’ve made a- haaaah- a whole lotta b-better points than that stupid council does.”

Before pecking a lingering French kiss on your throbbing clit like a lover would. 

And you count one, two, three- partway through four before Choso seems to remember that he’s still in the middle of his conversation with your cute cunt. It’s rude to leave her hanging, he’s pondering.

“Well-” Stringing himself away with such a pained grunt, cerise lower lip plumping out in a pout at the mere thought of being away from you. “-better points than that stupid council d-did. They won’t be making aaaaany comments ‘bout you anymore, madam.”

Your leaden eyelids struggle to flitter open, “Wh-what do you ngh- mean, baby?”

But the only response you get is a quick staccato of swats at your leaky slit, before Choso’s curling in a thick thumb past your watering lips and in to your slicked entrance. Followed by the delicious drag of his lengthy tongue doubly slipping back inside.

Thrust after thrust. 

So extensive that he was skimming across all your ridges, mapping out every sweet spot of yours on his mouth. Your adhesive walls were clinging onto him like a vice, sappy mushes making him pry apart your thighs even more through furrowed brows. 

“Jus’- just means-” He can’t even bear to speak. To break off from stretching you staggeringly open. Your legs wrap mindlessly around Choso’s ravenous head, “-means I don’t let anyone- hah- say anythin’ about my wife.” 

Without a second thought, your eyes find his splayed-out arrows on the floor. The way they were sullied with red…

Oh. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything other than let your head jerk backwards, muffing out slight whimpers when he alternates in such sloppy measures between swirling the fattened expanse of his tongue all over every possible spot of your gummy walls and sucking on your clit like his favorite candy.

“They won’t say- do- anythin’—” In so deep now that all you could make out were numerous wet gurgles. And the pure, unadulterated love in Choso’s tone when he twists his thumb to graze right against your bruised and battered g-spot. Hard. “Not when I love her so much.”

He’s gonna raise your kids to love you just as damn much.

And when you cum, you think you might be sobbing - you’re shaking. 

Flurries of stars bursting behind your eyes as you dig your fingers through your husband’s perspired strands. Keening out, “Fuck- m’cumming- m’cumming–”

“I know I know.” He smirks hotly against your puffy pussy lips, so close that you could feel the cratered dimple of his grin. “Yer cute cunt told me, baby– heh- wouldn’t mind being welcomed ah- home by my wife like this every day.”

He lets himself be manhandled, pulled and pushed to your every whim. One of the strongest clan leaders whimpering - whimpering - when you pull just a bit too hard to mash his cushiony mouth in a deeper kiss. 

Hot. Sappy. 

You’re still shaking with sparking bouts of heat that rush down and up your spine, legs twitching when Choso pulls away with a loudly kissed mwah! Overly exaggerated just to see that shy, fucked-out expression on your face. 

He was so unfairly pretty like this - a delicate red blush burning all over his face, eyes half-lidded like he was feverish. A shimmery spray of your juiced slick drips down his chin, his bruised lips, all the way up to his regal cheekbones. 

He made a mess. And he was wearing it like a badge of honor.

Rising up, up, up to shutter your ajar jaw and plant a drenching kiss. Choso always left your mind so melty and stupid no matter what he did. 

“Do you…do you want some hngh- sh-shaved ice?” You’re babbling with your cottony tongue, unsure of what exactly to say after something as intense as…that. 

“Nah-” One kiss. Another Two. Five. “-I jus’ had something a whooole lot sweeter, madam.”

Right now it was so quiet in your kitchen. Just you, Choso, and the gleaming moonlight illuminating his pussydrunken enchantment. Even more so than usual. 

You’re glissading your arms around his sweat-matted neck, reeling him in even closer. He smells so good, piney cologne searing your senses even despite that tint of iron. Nervously musing, “Hmmm, wonder if s’always gonna be like hah- this whenever I get…cravings.”

Well- it wasn’t exactly what you wanted to say, but, better than nothing.

“Cravings, huh?” Choso’s eyes twinkle - and you’re not sure if that’s a result of the muted lighting or because of what you just said. Hopefully the latter. 

“Well- well just saying I wouldn’t mind if-”

Cutting yourself off, you’re sure it’s the latter when he rests a massive palm, warm against your tummy. Just for a split-second before tucking his big, strong arms underneath your body and propping you in an easy princess carry. “If you have cravings then I’d be the one cooking for ya, my wife. 24/7, at your feet.”

Yeah, you were fucked. 

But you never really realized just how much - just how badly - until just a few days later; seated on the polished hardwood floor of the famed Kamo archery dojo. 

It was routine for your husband to practice his pinpoint precise shooting, and by now it was your routine to watch him. 

How could you not? Because it was such a heavenly sight.

Choso’s pristine, white yukata unravelled at one muscular shoulder; showing off the rippling curves and dips of his sculptured back. Strong. His honed eyes filmed with a focus he only ever gets in bed. Adonis-like biceps bulging in a lecherous little flex when he draws the string back, back, back and lets go-

“YES!” Yuji’s resounding cheer thunders across the vast chamber with way too much volume than a six-year-old should possibly have. “Let’s goooo- big bwother hit the target again.”

A simpering smile stretches across your lips as soon as he turns to you for reassurance, gesturing out a slow nod at the way Choso keeps piercing bullseye after bullseye. “He did, your brother is very talented, Yuji.”

Humming, “When I grow up m’gonna be just like him.” 

“Of course.” You’re chuckling at his enthusiasm - the youngest of your husband’s brother’s always did have a special spot in your heart. And you can’t help but wonder when - if - you had an heir with Choso, whether they would be much the same. “You are his brother, after all.”

You’re frantically hovering your hands behind him once he bustles to a haphazard stand. Stumbling only a few times as he races over to the neat line of inventory, “Then- I’ll be just like him now.”

“Be careful!”

Ah, he really was a handful - which meant, you really didn’t expect it to go over perfectly smoothly. You’d known that simply wouldn’t have been possible as soon as you met Itadori Yuji. 

Yet, you didn’t expect everything to go so wrong in just a mere matter of seconds. 

Before you can even blink, Yuji’d tottered his way over to one particularly large, wooden bow - one used only by Ryomen Sukuna whenever he visited. Puffing out his chest as he reeled out the massively heavy weapon - overly heavy, way too much for even the most determined child-

CRASH!

“Yuji!” You don’t know who yelps louder - you, or Choso. But with your proximity, you’re the one that reaches him first, cradling the sniffling boy in your arms. 

You jostle away the weighty bow - honestly, how he even managed to lift this in the first place you have no idea. 

“Awww, don’t cry don’t cry–” You’re cooing, distantly registering the worried pants of his older brother skidding to a stop beside you. He always did have him curled around his little finger. Pushing away the pinkish curls from his forehead, “-you’re alright. See? You’re alright.”

“Are you hurt? Are you dizzy? Are you feeling nauseous-”

“Choso.” You warn, catching the way Yuji’s eyes widen in panic. 

Taking a few deeply necessary breaths to calm down. “You- don’t do that-” Choso’s hissing, but you could practically feel the worry seeping into his tone. Thumbing slow circles on his aching shoulders, “-ask me for a bow instead.”

You have to bite back a grin - with the watery glaze taking over his eyes, you wondered who was really hurt - Yuji or Choso himself. 

“M’sorry big bwother.” Blubbering through big, pearly tears that dry salty streaks down his chubby cheeks. He’s batting those lashes in a way you’re sure gets him out of any sort of trouble. Ever. The full, merciless force of it hits your poor heart as Yuji turns to you. “Sorry, mama.”

Mama. 

Mama. 

You freeze. Choso freezes.

Hell, even the twittering birds outside freeze mid-song. 

It seems like everyone in the entire world freezes except for an oblivious Yuji who only continues inching his tiny hands closer towards that guilty bow. Clearly not having learned his lesson - but you didn’t even register that right now. 

You’re staring at Choso, only to find that he’s staring right back. Droopy eyes uncharacteristically wide, blinking rapidly - it didn’t even look like he was breathing right now. 

Maw parting and closing stupidly agape, and you’re almost tempted to reach out and check whether he’s doing okay - before he finally finds his voice again. Finally. Husking out a choked-out, “W-well- maybe we should- ah- should-” He’s turning towards his contrastingly okay younger brother, “Yuji?” 

“Big bwother!” Comes the, unfortunately, helpless answer. 

And something in his beaming expression seems to jolt Choso out of his reverie, something that makes him let out a tight nod. Scooping up the giggling boy over his shoulder, he calls out at you, “Wait here.”

As Choso walks out of the doorway, you could only watch.

Only sit there for what could be four seconds - or maybe even four hundred years - until he’d presumably dropped off Yuji at the safety of Jin. Taking steady, focused strides back to you that thud! thud! thud! right along to the beat of your racing heart.

Choso’s expression is blank - pale as if he’s seen a fucking ghost. And he doesn’t even look at you, can’t even bear to once he walks back to the thickened air of the dojo. Now pointedly alone. 

Very, very alone. 

Wordlessly, he picks up his famed bow. And you swear that you can see his practiced hands tremble. Something was happening. 

It’s like an artwork that you can’t look away from. The fluid motion of aligning a singular arrow to aim for his final, rounded target. Doughy pads of his fingers pinching the string back, back, back until it snaps!

And misses. For the first time in years.

“Fuck.”

You barely have the time to compute - to even suck in a gasp of surprise before your husband comes and crashes into you. It’s as if he was magnetized and couldn’t get away even if he wanted to. 

It’s a frenzy of white billowing sleeves and powerful arms, throwing you over Choso’s shoulder in only two seconds flat - much the same way that he’d done with Yuji moments prior.

Except more…urgent. 

“Choso- Cho!” You’re squealing, as he lurches into hurried treads away. Legs kicking weakly in the air, only for your stubborn self to be granted with an unapologetic spank! right on the mound of your ass. Your nose crinkles as his long, inky locks tickle your face, “What is-”

“Be quiet.” Choso’s rasping, so small that it could not have been more than a whisper. So close that you’re drinking in heady wafts of his masculine cologne. 

Something in his snarling tone makes your stomach tighten. Digits grappling precariously onto the toned curves of his shoulders, your fingertips slide down the sweltering expanse of his exposed skin. 

And only too late do you recognize the familiar pathway towards your shared bed chamber- oh. 

So that was what it was. 

And judging by the dark, primal look swimming in the clan leader’s eyes you could only hope that you made it out alive-

SLAM!

You don’t know what’s forcing you more out of your excited little reverie - the shuddered slam! of your mahogany double doors, so hard that it makes the golden hinges shake, or the way you’re thrown haphazardly on the bed. 

Like some glorified toy. One of Choso’s favorites. 

You’re throwing your arms over his broad shoulders as you fall, lugging him in even closer with each springy bounce on the bedcoils. 

But closer wasn’t close enough for your husband - he’s bullying into every ounce of your personal space, caging you in between two splayed-out palms on either side of your thoroughly spinning head.

“Mama, is it?” Choso starts out. Slow. Thick. Like he was approaching a cornered prey. “Baby, I want…I want it.”

You’re blinking up at him through eager eyes, “Want what, Cho?” 

“I want an heir. I want to make you…” He gulps. The circles of his fingertips were so warm on your skin, trailing down lovingly all across your cheek. Your collarbones, your heaving tits - down to where you predictably flinched as he palmed your tummy. “-a pretty momma.”

Fawny strands of chestnut brown curtain his gaze, but you could tell just how serious he was. Just how greedy. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Choso like this in his entire life. 

All you can breathe out is a crackling, “Yes.”

You said it. You finally said it after all these weeks. 

And it’s the only thing you hear before your yukata is all but torn off of you, Choso doesn’t even realize when he’s doing so. It’s melting away like butter underneath his strength, mere obstacles to where the real prize is - your gorgeous, shivering body.

Pebbles of goosebumps rise onto the surface of your flesh when he throws away those useless pieces of fabrics onto the tatami floor - you can have more newly tailored anyway. Many, many more with just how round and full you’re about to be very soon. 

He’d take care of it for you.

“Oh, madam- madam.” He’s spitting into your unfastened mouth, low growls sounding out across each four corners of your room. Held hostage by the arousal in your eyes, he can’t stop staring. “M’gonna ruin you.”

And Choso is feral like never before. 

Usually one to take his time during sex, finetuning you into it like a sultry waltz. His favorite hobby was to drive you mindlessly wild before he even thought of stuffing you full. But now…

Still not breaking his dreamy eye contact with you, Choso hooks a rapidfire finger over the cute bow-tied hem of your panties. Slurring down an oozing little snail trail of slick that laminates your jittery thighs with evidence of just how badly you wanted him. 

You feel the blistering pant of his mindless oh! fanning your features, leaning backwards with a loosened maw to admire just how glistening you are in this lighting. 

How ready.

With a low, fucked-up whimper breaking at the back of his throat, he rubs over the bloated curvature of your needy pussy. Slipping ever-so-slightly at the saturated puddles leaking out, Choso has no hesitation or shame when he tugs his fingerpads into his mouth once. 

Twice. Thrice. 

Dipping back down for more and more and more-

“Can’t-” He’s guttering out, eyes crinkling and- fuck, were those tears? “I c-”

You reach your hand up to smear away his hot rivulets of salt, and Choso stops his prattling like a broken record forced to a halt. He jolts as if your touch has just sent a zillion shocks of voltage down his spine, all the trekking trailway down to his furious, aching cock. 

Unsteady hands flinging apart his snowy robes - barely even bothering to remove them and wrench down his undergarments before you see it. You finally understand why Choso was so…restless.

Because he’s never been harder. 

Fuck being furious, his bawling cock was seething. Equally as red as the ripest of strawberries, the split-ended crown of his cockhead was just as plumply swollen. All proud inches nestled underneath his painfully-clenching breeder balls, ballooned and lush. Only the barest of your gaze is enough to make Choso’s lustrous tip twitch, laminating himself with a freshly dripping glaze of translucent pre. 

Though, it’s not like you were doing any better. 

Your gluey lips pucker and pout up at him once he’s wrangling your legs into a boneless hold. The feeling of his palms underneath your thighs are so soft - even despite his battle-hardened calluses. Worshipping. 

But the way he’s resting your legs on his shoulders, and folding you in half like a whining lawnchair is the complete opposite. Mercilessly into a-

“M-mating press-” Choso’s getting out through strangled breaths, as if the sole words had his poor sanity fraying at the edges. “-mating press- a- a-” Something he’s never tried out before. His head dips down, pearls of sweat simmering across his trembly upper lip as soon as your sticky folds leave a wet snog on his fattened mushroomy tip. Topping it with a generous heap of honeyed sap, “Well, hello there, baby. I have you in a mating press n’ m’gonna…gonna…”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence. 

Couldn’t even finish his thought before Choso was doing - body moving miles and miles ahead of his stupidly saccharine-sweet mind. 

“F-fuuuuck–” You’re letting off the keenest of whines, the edges of your nails leaving neat crescents all over his toned back. It was the perfect little present for the way he had you so split open. 

And he was barely even pushing past the tip. 

“Oh. Oh.” Choso’s grunts are throaty, as if they weren’t coming from the man himself but somewhere murked and dark inside him. And the same went for his feverish thrusts - tight, rigid little pushes past your slicked-up hole just to fit inside. He’s spitting into your slacked mouth, “C’mon- c’mon c’mon–”

Usually, it takes so long to prepare you to take his nine- no, ten inches. But currently, fast just wasn’t fast enough.

There’s a thundering slam! abovehead - only hours and hours later do you have enough brainpower to realize that it was Choso striking his palm down on the headboard - and it makes your clingy walls grip onto the battering mountain of his dewy head. 

Squeezing in a repeatedly adhesive-like tempo, Choso’s nose crinkles at the rubbery resistance of your snug hole. Still molding to the slightest curves and ridges of his drowned slit with every desperate rut-

“Please- take it- fucking take it.” His voice was trembling on the edge of a crack, thickened exactly the way one does when he’s about to cry. “H-how can I fuck! How can I breed ya…if I don’t-”

And you’re swearing you see his ruddied cheeks glisten with a few slipped-off tears - though, that just might be from the way that your own vision mists over when his stray hand plugs up your spilling entrance to pry two thickened, scissoring digits inside and stretch. “Fucking- take that big fuckin’- cock-”

Bullying in a few more long n’ girthy inches- You’re so full that it feels like Choso’s pushing his bloated crownhead against the spongy edges of your lungs. 

The bed dips and moans with frequent soft creaks! when he plants his curved knees firmly further apart. Flexibly so. And you’re getting a good, greedy eyeful of his pale, bulky thighs - angling at the perfect bend to snap his slender hips and jackhammer-

“Sh-shit-” Your head sinks into the cushiony pillows underneath you, and it already feels like you’re in heaven. “-don’t- don’t know if it’ll fit, Cho–”

With a bitten lip, Choso rovers down his sturdy hand from the surface of the bedframe to measure out ten solid inches. Bringing it down much the same way he did during your wedding reception, “Y-you can, baby–”

“But-”

“You will.” He’s gasping, gracing you with a soft brush of his curvaceous mushroomed head along one of your utmost favorite hidden sweet spots. It’s enough to make you buck. “Gonna take my cock, n’ you’re gonna haaah- take my seed ‘ntil you’re bloated. So I’ll make it fit- fuck- watch, I’ll make it fit.” Before you know it, that very same hand finds itself crowning your head, threatening to push you down- “C-can you say hngh- ‘biiiig stretch’ f’me?”

You’re hiccuping out, “B-big stretch?”

“Nuh uh-” By the time that Choso shakes his head, you’re being sprinkled with loose flecks of his sweat. He was in so deep now. “Say it with me- b-biiig stretch, baby–”

“B-biiig- stretch!” It takes you everything in your body to hold your own against the vicious pounds being planted and struggled into your goopy depths. Choso was determined. Frenzied. 

And god, the way you’re dumbly parroting his words is so hot. He can’t help but dollop out muggy icings of pre that slosh and swab at every nook and cranny inside you. 

“Good girl.” Rewarding you with a slow heart being patterned right on the throbbing peak of your clit, the roughened edges of his fingertips rub you just right. Not too hard. Not too soft. Your husband nuzzles his flushed head into the havened crook of your clammy neck, “S-say it again, madam.”

“Biiig-”

Honestly, it’s a wonder you manage to get exactly two syllables out at all. Because soon enough, Choso’s taking your distracted few seconds to lace his fingers onto your scalp push. To bump his hips back until your geysering cunt was struggling around his fat, bulbous tip.

Before stuffing you full all the way in-

“Fuck- no.” Choso’s spitting out venomously against your thrumming pulse, sharp fringes of his teeth digging in animalistically. Bottomed out but still pushing and pushing- Slamming a lazy stripe of luscious precum down your spongy cervix, “No- no no–”

No sooner are you full of all his massive, rummaging length, he’s making you take even more. This time in the form of dribbling, ribbony volumes of cum that leak and leak and won’t stop from his heated divot. 

It’s ballooning up your tight channel even more. Swashing around and sticking to your gummy walls like a treacly lacquer. Filling you to your very brim-

“S-so much.” You’re gaping, through tear-strung lashes. The shivering edges of your fingers subconsciously dance downwards to splotch over the puddling globs of seed tricking from either side of your sloppy slit. Squeezing out even more to coat Choso’s bulky base with creamy rings upon rings. 

And, usually, your husband might be just a bit embarrassed. Usually, he would have pulled out to make out with your pretty pussy until your scores were more than tied.

But that wasn’t your husband right now. 

“Don’t.” Choso clicks his drunkenly heavy tongue, lips pulling back into what almost looks like an oh-so-feral snarl. And you have to admit that it looks so sexy on him. He’s rudely swatting away your curious hand, “Move that fucking hand n’ let me see.”

It takes only a split-second for both your hands to be pinned underneath one of Choso Kamo’s. 

“Tha’s not enough to take.”

And only one more split-second for him to flip you over onto your tummy and stuff your head into the cushy pillows. 

He’s fucking you like he’s using you. Like he’s pumping his mushy, swollen head to nudge in the weighty heft of his cum deeper and deeper and deeper-

“Y’know I hate hngh- disrespectin’ my wife, baby–” He leans over to sigh against your ear in craving hisses, pinning you with his body. His muscles. You could count each n’ every one of Choso’s bulging abs, glissading damply against your perfectly arched spine. Bubblegum pink nipples pressed roughly into your scorching skin, “Hate it- but…”

You gasp at Choso’s audacity next - at the way it makes you so traitorously soaked when he hikes up one of his feet to rest upon your head. 

Gurgling out a stupid. “Ch-Cho–”

But he didn’t seem to hear you - you didn’t know if he was even managing to breathe at this point. Only letting his devious lips twitch up, up, up into such a satisfied grin. “-but ‘ntil I get my hngh- heh…heir, you’re gonna hafta be my cumdump, madam.”

And if the saturated slurps singing out at a near-deafening tone from your dripping pussy said anything - it was that you loved the idea. 

Especially when the changed angle makes his scouring cockhead maze between the most treasured spots of your jelly-like walls to strike numerous, merciless hits dead-set on your g-spot. 

Ah, there it was, pipes up that small voice in Choso’s overtaken brain. Jostling your hips back onto his with a sudden spank on the target of your drivelling hole, the stinging pressure makes you bump your tenderest spots again and again into his ruthless batters. 

It’s bruising - the proud circumference of his plummy cock against your elastic cervix with every recoiling bounce, the rounded patterns of his balls against the hind of your pretty pussy with each thrust.

If you didn’t think you were being fucked stupid before then you were sure now. 

Your velveteen pillowcase dampens with the ever-flooding saliva spilling from your mouth every time Choso rears his aching shaft back to plant rapid, precise strikes where you wanted him the most. 

Whimpering at how every ramming dab of his split cockhead leaves leakages of pearly white cum all over the bottom of your pussy. That sultry swirl of his dumped heaps inside of you making your head spin just as dizzily. 

You almost don’t notice it when Choso’s drifting both hands to skirt over about halfway down your tummy. Feeling for that bloated, cylindrical outline of him vulgarly messing up your insides, “Gonna be e-even fuller here soon, y’know-” He’s giggling - giggling. Erratically letting his hands slide down to your clit to give the peaked ends just a tiny pinch. “-have you all round. Full. Full-”

He can’t say anything else.

He can’t do anything else - other than watch in purely entranced awe when that makes you cum all over his fucking cock. 

So big n’ thick that your claggy walls can barely even squeeze around his throbbing shaft. The thought makes you huff as he rams rigorously through your blinding high - teeth grit, your fingers fist at the pillows and make sure you can clench-

When you do- oh, when you manage to cling your gummy cunt onto his girth as if to suck out his fucking soul, it makes Choso cum, too.

Fatigued hips somehow matching his cadence, your knees shiver on top of the softened mattress stuttering through every dousing mass of cum gliding inside your cute cunt. It was so heavy having his massive torrentials inside of you, spraying the door to your womb with a slippery sheen.

It was maddening. 

And maybe it’s been hours - maybe it’s been mere minutes. But all you know is that you’re put through rounds and rounds and more rounds. But he’s still not stopping. Still dredging out the tiniest of hollowing grinds. 

Until much, much later Choso’s breath hitches in feverish stutters. It was so steamily hot inside you, only getting more humid by the minute as you ride out yet another crashing high.

“G’na milk e-every ngh- drop-” He titters, fleshy edges of his fingers closing in around where your pussylips were the most buxom. The most leaky. “-n’ you’re gonna ngh- keep it. Keep ‘ntil you give me an h-heir. Remember that, baby– keep it.”

You’re fighting against the weight of his muscular leg on top of you. Was he clamming your pussy shut? 

“Choso, baby.” Your straining out, throat drier than the Sahara at this point. Even despite how the hypnotized way your husband looks at you makes your tongue lather with watery saliva. “Want- want more.”

You think you might just have broken Choso Kamo.

Might just have made him reach another surprising high all over again with just your simple request. He’s lifting off the powerfully pressurized foot crowned on your head in favor of lurching downwards to grab your tender throat into a headlock.

Manhandling you as he pleased. Lifting you off of the tattered pillow, the completely splintered bed frame now. 

Your chin juts over his thick, bulging biceps, fighting for both air and the space-

“More- more, she says-” He’s chuckling out, words cracking a few octaves higher than normal. From the corner of your eye, you sneak glimpses at the way that Choso’s eyes were wide, crazed. Flashing all sorts of feral promises when he plants one, two, three long thuds against your soppy cervix. “Fucking- m-more.”

You’re letting off a tiny whimper - your orgasm nothing but tingles at this point. Yearning for that the piping hot streak of seed flushed into your already-overspilling cunt. Syruping in with the rest of his numerous goopy volumes, it’s thick and needy. 

Only one.

“Sh-shit.” He’s wheezing against your ear, free hand flying down to tug at his reddened base for more more more- one’s not enough. Every possibly wiry wisp and speckle that could fill you up. Could give him an heir. “Can’t cum dry- won’t- oh.”

Rutting into you like Choso won’t stop - didn’t know if he even can stop anymore. You flinch at the suddenly hot splatter! of something warm…and wet at your shoulder. 

“Cho- oh!” Not only was the clan leader drooling out glossy spatters of saliva, he was crying. Hugging you even closer, you’re showered in neverending streams of overstimulated tears.

And Choso can only babble away, “Hope- hope s’a daughter, madam.”

A/N. AYYY y’all have been wanting more dom Choso saurrrr- Anyways hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized. 

[joonsytip]

Only for Love || Mingyu [Teaser]

Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au

Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?

Warnings: Reader is cold but also shy, Mingyu is gullible and impulsive, lack of communication, misunderstanding, miscommunication, reader is objectified once, hurt, crying, profanities, mentions of divorce, sexual intimacy, mentions of pregnancy, rest will be specified under the part when published

Main story out now checkout here!

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

"Let's get divorced."

When Mingyu came home late at night to see you awake and waiting for him, there was an uncanny feeling that settled within.

Your hands are crossed, face void of any expression. If not for your next words, Mingyu would think he's hallucinating.

"We can decide on the terms and clauses, all as per your convenience.", you stress, "I do not expect any trouble from your side."

Mingyu finally registers everything you have said till now and everything hits him all at once.

"W-What are you talking about? Why do you want a divorce all of a sudden?"

Your monotonous tone rather asks him another question, "We have been married for over two years, nearing it's third anniversary. Do you want to be tied in this marriage?"

Though Mingyu thinks he doesn't know you well enough but he knows you enough to catch the wind of your words.

His gaze turns towards his office room and his suspicion confirms to be correct when he sees the door opened ajar.

"Why did you enter my office? I had clearly warned you about not doing so.", he says in a strict voice.

"That doesn't answer my question.", you say getting up, "Anyways it doesn't matter anymore, I want you to move out of our shared bedroom right now and shift to the guest room. I'll get a lawyer, you get one too and proceed with the divorce."

As you turn back, you feel your husband's hand wrap around yours.

"How are you so calm? Why are you not asking me anything? Do I really mean nothing to you?", you hear a string of questions falling out of his lips, "We are married for almost three years now and your cool headedness after, I'm assuming, knowing everything makes me aware of the fact that I really don't know you."

You jerk your hand out of his grip and turn back to look at him, "And how is that my fault? Maybe you've never tried to know me.", your voice drops another octave, "You can stop with the doting husband act, now that I know the truth."

Mingyu doesn't miss the way your eyes show vulnerability for a moment. Your words strike a chord within him.

"I'll sleep in the guest room.", Mingyu says in defeat, "And we're gonna talk it out tomorrow morning.", he sounds sincere when he says, "I'm sorry. I hope you'll give me a chance to explain everything."

But little does he know, you've already closed the room for any diversions, that you've decided to part ways with the person who has betrayed your trust.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

[merelylillies]

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Note: ‘‘Starting to get the hang of it...might still be bad. Brace yourself I guess? Also not proofread so fingers crossed.,,

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Fandom: Hoyoverse's Genshin Impact

Pairing: (Fem.)Reader x Xiao || Alatus >>Mentioned: Malipo Kinich

Content Warnings: (NSFW) Kissing, Needy/Desperate vibes, Jealousy, Praise, Handjob (giving).

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The one time you left Paimon behind you felt surprisingly deprived of her usual chatter as you made your way up onto the cobblestone path. Though you supposed it was all well and good, she was with Xiangling, not only safe but with the company of endless food. Surely she won't complain by the time you pick her up tomorrow. Although as of right now, the atmosphere felt empty, the only noise being your heeled boots clacking onto the wooden platform of the open-air elevator. It had been a while since you last visited Wangshu Inn.

With everything that had happened between Fontaine and Natlan, it's fair to say a moment's rest has been few and far between. With the latter, upon meeting some of the tribes' people had you then suddenly grown homesick. The Malipo name bearer having played tricks on your eyes one too many times from behind. His tousled, dark blue strands with sharp cuts flooded nostalgia through your blood countless times, before you were inevitably met with green irises instead of the gold you so cherished. Lost in thought you'd barely registered the platform had reached the terrace with a clunk. Looking around, most of the guests had early turned in for the night, the moon hanging high in the sky and the air perfectly still if not for a small breeze. Walking off the elevator and rounding the entrance to the front desk, Verr Goldet was busying herself petting the inn's cat perched on the counter. She turned at the sound of footsteps with a clear look of surprise that melted into a welcoming smile.

"Welcome back Traveler," she spoke softly. Nodding in greeting you glanced around, eyes landing on the staircase leading to the upper terrace. Upon catching this Verr smiled almost knowingly.

“He's been waiting a long time you know?" she said cryptically.

“Oh." was all you managed to get out.

"Take this on my behalf will you?" she asks with an amused look before handing you a delicate plate with a decorated portion of Almond Tofu.

“Xiangling sent in a letter earlier when you departed from the harbor. I had Yanxiao make it before clocking out.".

“Thank you." you responded almost dumbfounded before taking the plate from her hands.

She nodded before turning back around to scribble away in her log book, leaving you to stare down at the dish before ultimately turning to make your way up the final flight of stairs. As you made it to the top of the stairs, building up your courage to call his name you stopped just short of the archway. To your surprise, the man was already there. Sitting balanced on the railing of the terrace, with one leg bent into his chest, the other dangling down towards the void. The Adeptus' back was to you, allowing you to gaze over the back of his hair, your brain almost warning you it's just another hopeful illusion. As your silence goes on, he turns his head in your direction, glowing yellow peering into you like daggers. Everything stilled for a little while, the two of you just staring at one another without making a move. Gods you had missed him.

“Hi Xiao." you offered, breaking the silence. He continues to look at you, then suddenly shifts, disappearing into thin air before reappearing a couple of steps away from you, standing stiffly. Swallowing your doubt, you walk closer holding the Tofu out to him.

“Yanxiao made this for you-" you suddenly stop at his expression, as he stares at you with a perplexed look, confusion mixed with upset and then switching to weariness.

“Xiao, what's wrong?" you ask concerned, eyes checking over his figure before feeling gloved fingers slide on top of yours holding up the plate.

Looking up at him, his eyes seemed to roam across your face frantically, and then finally settle on your eyes, gazing into them intensely. His other hand comes to your shoulder, gently holding you, before tightening his grip firmly once he knew for a fact you were actually standing before him. He seemed to be physically relieved at your presence. You were actually here. In front of him. Without another second wasted he pulled you into him, plate long forgotten on the floor. The embrace was rigid, but he pulled you in so tightly as if he were scared to even consider letting go.

A few beats pass by before he shifts his arms, his hands that were clutching at your back now trailing down near your waist. He continues to hold you there, pressed up against him, his head hovering above your shoulder, dark strands tickling your ear.

“Where have you been.” It sounded more like a statement than a question, an accusation almost.

Hesitating with your response you swallowed a bit nervous. “I was traveling to the other nations- I’ve been to Fontaine and Nat-”.

“You took so long.” He breathed out, almost a whisper.

“You worried me.” He started. “I started thinking you might’ve been stubborn again and refused to call upon me.” His voice turned stern again, despite the softness of his low volume.

“Xiao..”.

“Traveler..May I be selfish?”, He pulls back enough to look at you, his forehead grazing your own.

Nodding slowly at him, your eyes lock onto his, seeing the underlying passion and yearning and admiration that he hid deep within himself.

Before you could say anything else he closed the distance between you.

The kiss was soft at first but as you kissed him back, reciprocating his movements with practiced ease, he started leaning back, shrinking into himself more. This was experience he continued to lack even with the many times you’d shared kisses. Kissing and any physical intimacy was a foreign concept to him, so he couldn’t help the small noises that escape him as you didn’t let up on his lips.

It was almost embarrassing how worked up he started getting, the harsh persona faltering the more you pressed forward and the longer the kiss continued. He felt breathless. For all his training he suddenly couldn’t calm his racing heart and his shortness of air.

You let up for a few seconds, letting him fill his lungs before diving back in immediately after his first gasp.

“Aah-mm” The hum leaves him involuntarily. Xiao had never wanted to be the vocal type, but novelty to these sensations made it hard for him to surprise himself.

Could you just- Archons above. Give him a second- Suddenly, despite his rare initiation, he feels out of his depth.

Adepti are trained to have endless patience and composure. So dear Seven, what the FUCK. He was feeling things he shouldn’t, thoughts crossing his mind he would berate himself later for. But as you kept moving forward, hands mimicking his own, wrapping onto his own waist, all trace of thought was gone from his mind.

You felt yourself turn light as a feather for a moment before realizing you had changed settings. He had teleported you inside. Now in a beautifully decorated chamber, the furniture adorned with untouched, long-settled dust. This must be the room Verr keeps for him.

As your turned your focus back to Xiao the boy looked beyond unrecognizable. The usual scowl on his face replaced with an unreadable expression. His pale skin blushed over with red. The tips of his hair standing up a little wilder than normal. But most of all, his eyes. Oh his eyes.. They held you with their stare, glossed by the warm, dim light of a bedside lantern.

Xiao’s brain seemed to spontaneously re-wire itself as he shifted his footing. Walking over to him, you started kissing him again, firmly and with so much emotion from you missing him, leaving behind the slow gentle pecks from earlier.

He fell into your rhythm, not once fighting to control the kiss. Walking him backwards until the back of his knees hit the mattress, making him fall down with you straddling him. Almost grinning against his lips you opened your eyes to look at him. His unfocused, widened gaze and his half open mouth, lips turned more vibrant with friction.

As you settled above him your hand moving up to his waist before your hand grazes over the front of his pants, a hitch of his breath escaping in response. Surprised at the sound, your eyes trail down to his trousers only to be met with a more prominent bulge.

Oh. Oh.. oh.

He couldn’t meet your gaze, his forearm moving atop his face shielding his eyes.

“You missed me that much?”

“It’s an uncontrollable aspect of the male human body. Something you should well be aware of. Your own kind’s shortcomings.” He replies with a hoarse voice, trying to keep his tone steady and even.

“Oh I wouldn’t say shortcomings..” You reply smugly before shifting your palm down onto him.

“A-ah-” He cuts himself off with a hiss of a breath.

As your hand continues grinding onto him his breaths pick up again, chest stuttering with his small gasps. Brows visibly furrowing, as the arm shielding his face twitches in place with small trembles.

“You- m-mm-” He attempts.

“I what?” You tease back.

And he’s really trying. Rex Lapis knows he’s trying to hold it in. Not seem so..so.. needy. And he doesn’t want to beg. That’s pathetic and unbecoming of an illuminated beast, an immortal, weapon of war..

“You look so pretty Xiao”, You whisper, caressing his soft hair, fingers trailing down his jawline, “I missed you so.”

Curse Celestial-

“Please.”

You don’t even get to respond to his sudden plea before others pour in.

“Please. I-I desire your- hahatouch. Ah. You. Please.” His arm strongly planted over his eyes.

Smiling down at his shaky form, you dip your hands past his waistband and loosen the sash holding his pants. The fabric dips down his slim hips, his usually cold skin, burning to the touch.

Finally wrapping a hand around him he gasps louder, this time a high pitched moan fully tumbling out of his lips.

“Ha- Aa-ah fuck -mmmmh”

You give him a tentative slow stroke up before reaching the tip, thumbing at it while watching his reaction. His first bawling against his own palm, the less human features of his hands peaking out from their usual concealment. Nails sharpening and veins becoming more visible, running down his arm.

“Yes-ah just like that— AAah-” His fingers twitch as you repeat the motion, dragging your thumb slowly against the slit.

As you speed up your motions his back begins arching slightly, lifting off the mattress as his pitch heightens with breathlessness and an almost whiny undertone. Your hand tightening around him and squeezing him just how he needed and god it feels good.

And he’s basically never done this before, and so he’s already getting embarrassingly close. His heart feels like it’s in his throat with the way he feels unable to utter out anything more than pleasurable moans. Your hand picks up the pace, and he bites his lip, sharp canines almost piercing his already kissed raw, red lips. His arm barely staying still from the stimulation, shudders running their course throughout his body. Finally falling to the side, his arm yanks at the bedding, his eyes scrunched up in pleasure as his eyebrows knit together. His entire face is blushed heavily, not to mention the almost visible pants of hot air escaping his mouth with little to no restraint from him.

“I’m- I..”

“Hm? Does it feel nice Xiao?” You boldly inquired boldly.

“Is this what you desired? What you fantasized while waiting for me? Imagining me so desperately?”

He was so sensitive and he has been wanting you all this time- having to wait so long and he was pent up and you knew that- and-

“Fuck- ah-Aa-hah..Please I’m almost.. Ah-” His voice breaks on his last plea, feeling too out of it to care.

Without much else he comes undone into your hand, letting out a small mewl that resembles a whimper.

You move to hover over him closer to his face and he opens his eyes to look ups t you dazed but with determination in his eyes.

“Ah-a-Again….” He huffs.

“Hah-h please.”

[chlorinecake]

HELLO

Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!

It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc

leading you on | l.hs

♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…

loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader

♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words

a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!

Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.

Not emotionally, that is, but physically.

Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.

Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.

The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.

But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.

Who you've always loved him to be.

However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.

Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.

You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.

Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.

However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.

Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.

A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.

Off camera, things were the same.

You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.

But then... something changed.

Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.

|Messaging| 💬

Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?

You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...

Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy

You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^

You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.

"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."

"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-

"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.

"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."

You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.

"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"

"Will Heeseung be there?"

"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.

It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.

"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."

Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"

FLASHBACK

It all started with a picture.

A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.

Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK

Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.

Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩

pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻

Danielle, another fan joked.

Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔

Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.

"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.

That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."

His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.

Oh God-

"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.

pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-

Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-

Chelbear03 has left the stream

A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.

"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.

"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.

"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"

His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.

The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.

"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.

"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.

"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.

anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?

yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭

Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him

"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."

pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|

"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...

"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.

"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."

“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.

“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”

Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.

You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.

“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”

“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”

You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.

You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.

“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”

“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.

You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.

One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.

|Messaging| 💬

You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?

Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)

You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D

Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?

You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time

Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm

You: Cya ! 🐒

THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.

You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.

Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.

It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.

You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.

Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.

Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.

You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.

That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.

His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.

His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.

“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.

“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.

“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.

“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.

“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”

“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”

“What is?”

“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”

“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”

He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.

“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.

“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.

“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”

“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"

You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.

“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.

Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.

You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.

yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧

Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩

mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s

pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD

Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨

laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;

yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3

You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.

"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.

"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"

"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."

"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.

"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."

Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.

He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.

"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"

"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.

Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why

Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.

“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”

"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.

"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."

"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.

“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”

"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.

"Moving on, next question!"

anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈

Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.

It was really a bad trait of yours...

"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.

How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-

laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...

pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹

In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.

"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.

yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-

Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏

Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.

By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.

"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."

The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.

"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."

"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...

"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.

"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"

He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."

Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.

Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔

maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-

You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.

"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.

pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)

maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{

maindancertypeshit has left the stream

You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.

"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.

yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(

Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭

mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...

Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.

"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.

That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.

"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.

"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.

You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.

"Heeseung, what're you-"

He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.

There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.

"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.

You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...

You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.

laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????

mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0

Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?

yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁

The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.

A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.

"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.

"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.

What was going on with you?

"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."

"Heeseung-"

"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."

The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.

"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.

"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."

"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.

"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."

"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.

"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"

ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.

You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.

You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.

Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.

It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...

Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.

Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.

To be ruined.

"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."

He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.

"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"

"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.

"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.

"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"

You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.

Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-

"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."

He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.

"Its a few things, actually-"

"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.

"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."

"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.

"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.

Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-

"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."

"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.

"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.

"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.

You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.

"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."

You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.

He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.

That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.

You almost couldn't in a state like this.

It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.

"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.

You were having second thoughts.

"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."

Even though this was all your idea to begin with-

"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."

In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.

You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.

Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.

The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.

Almost too good, honestly…

“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.

Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.

“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"

It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.

“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.

"What're you-"

Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."

He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.

“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.

You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.

"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"

Fuck.

You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.

"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.

Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-

"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.

Well, most of the way, at least...

"____?"

"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"

"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."

Thud.

You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.

His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.

"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.

"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.

You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.

How nice he felt.

"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.

He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.

"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"

"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.

Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.

There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.

And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.

He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.

He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"

You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.

He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,

“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.

He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”

Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.

“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”

Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.

As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.

Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”

He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.

He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.

Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.

There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.

“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.

You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.

You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.

You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.

“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.

“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.

To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.

“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.

“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”

“Heeseung-”

“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”

“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.

From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.

You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.

”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.

You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”

Fin…

♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!

♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash

[vienssunshine]

What do you really want, you psychopath?

pairing: Josh Washington x fem reader nsfw word count: 6.7k content warning: blood, violence, needles, manipulation, non-con elements (nonconsensual filming, deception) author's note: My obsession with Until Dawn returns every summer like clockwork.

You hope he's doing okay.

It's the only thought sticking in your mind as you pace on the cable car platform. After everything last year, after him shutting down, not able to talk to anyone, you hope that now, a year later, things are at least better than they were. He has mentioned a therapist, so it's a little comforting knowing he's getting the professional help he needs.

You lean your hands against the wooden railing and admire the snowy landscape, trying to push Josh out of your mind. Instead, you shift your focus to Sam, because where the hell is she? Sam insisted on you both being the first ones up the mountain, but it's fifteen minutes past the time you agreed to meet and she has yet to arrive.

Your phone buzzes with a message from your friend:

"Hey! So sorry but traffic is terrible and I'm gonna be a bit. I don't want to keep you waiting out in the cold so take the cable car up and I'll see you up there!"

Turning your phone off, you sigh. Things are going to be awkward this year. Walking in with Sam would have eased your nerves about seeing everyone again, but it looks like you aren't being afforded that comfort anymore. Worse comes to worst, you can spend the evening holed up in your guest room with your favorite book.

You step into the cable car and try to ignore how the whole thing creaks and sways with the wind. The Washingtons are rich, so they must have the money to get this thing safety checked. Right?

The music you play in your earbuds somewhat drowns out the loud groans of the car as it travels up the snowy peak. Through the frosty window, you can see what looks like a blizzard rolling in. Good thing you'll be able to hunker down in Josh's cabin.

At the top of the mountain, the doors open and you see him, Josh Washington, standing alone in the snow. After all this time, the sight takes you aback; he seems to be an apparition, not fully there.

"Look what the cat dragged in," he says, hands in the pockets of his winter jacket, "Well, I guess it was the cable car, not a cat." His lazy grin is unshakable as he speaks.

"Hi Josh," you respond, fighting the smile creeping up on your face.

"Here, let me grab that for you," he says, stepping forward and helping you out of the straps of your North Face backpack. He swings it over his shoulder and beckons you up the path.

You thank him, bashful, and follow. The trail is white with snow and dimly lit, a few lanterns hanging from the fences, their wood corroded from the harsh winters before.

"So, is anyone else here yet?" you ask, pulling your gloves on. The wind feels stronger here than it did at the bottom of the mountain, it's icy and cutting into the skin of your fingers.

"Nah, the other party people aren't due for another hour or two." He leans in with an evil grin, "So it'll be just us for a while, scared?"

You giggle, pushing the man away from you, "I don't know if I'll survive all of your ultra-corny jokes, Josh."

"Yeah? Then, any requests for what they should put on your tombstone?" he asks, giving you a lighthearted push back.

"Shut up." You shake your head, smiling, before stealing a glance at your watch: 8:03 p.m. "Actually, I guess I won't have to survive for long since I'm on time. So everyone should be due soon."

"Aww, come on," Josh says, "You know they're all gonna be late."

You punch Josh in the arm and he fakes serious injury, "Don't talk about our friends like that, I trust in their punctuality. Sam, our good, timely friend even took the initiative to get us to come early."

Josh looks around in an exaggerated manner, squinting into the dark forest, "Do you see Sammy here? Or anyone else? 'Cause I don't. Face it, they're all gonna be late. Sam at least had the decency to give me a heads-up about it."

"Yeah, the traffic's terrible apparently."

"Damn, I guess she's gonna be even later then."

You furrow your brow, "What do you mean?"

"Sam told me to expect her around 9. So, if there's traffic, it might not be until like 9:30 or 10. Right?"

"Wait, when did she tell you to expect her at 9?"

"Uh...a few days ago, maybe?" Josh glances at you sideways, "Something up?"

Confused at the discrepancy between Sam and Josh's stories, you wrack your brain. Why did Sam want you to go early with her but tell Josh she was going to show up late?

You clench your fist, Sam wanted you and Josh alone. She's known you've had a crush on him for so long and has been relentless in encouraging you to go for it. This must be her fucked up way of forcing you to.

Josh studies you, still puzzled. Staring ahead, you notice the silhouette of the lodge at the end of the path. You weigh your options: should you be honest about what you think Sam is up to or just let it go?

You elect to give Sam a stern talking-to later, reassuring Josh by saying, "Ah it's nothing." You point to the cabin, "Hey, we're almost there!"

He follows your finger and gazes at the lodge ahead, "You're right, soon we can party all night long," he says with a mischievous smirk.

You lumber up the old stairs and find that the door to the lodge is unable to be opened.

"Ah, shit. The lock's frozen," Josh observes.

"Is there another way we can get in? Or get the door unfrozen? I'm not gonna lie, I am freezing my buns off out here."

Yeah, you'd like to spend more time with Josh, but not in nearly subzero temperatures.

"Now, now, you know Josh wouldn't keep a pretty girl outside freezing her buns off for long. Wait here, I have an idea."

Josh hurries off behind the lodge, leaving you on the porch, arms wrapped around your body in a fruitless attempt to warm yourself. You look around at the dark woods surrounding the cabin. It's a dense forest, filled with gnarly trees that look like they're twisting into one another in a warped dance.

A small trace of movement pulls your attention, something shifting its position in the tree line. Anxiety begins to pour into your stomach and you look around for Josh who is nowhere to be seen. Is something—or someone—out there? You step forward, placing your hands on the railing and leaning over to get a better look when the door behind you flies open.

"Honey, you're home!" Josh cries out.

"Josh!" you respond in a harsh whisper, "Keep it down!"

Josh laughs, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you into the house, "For who? No one is out here besides me," he points to himself, "and you," he presses his finger to your chest, right beneath your zipper.

His small touch flusters you, bringing a welcomed warmth to your cheeks. It makes you forget about whatever you saw in the woods. Must have been a bird.

He leads you into the living room and motions with a bow for you to sit on the couch. "Now, if the lovely lady would allow me, I'd adore starting a fire to warm her freezing buns."

Assuming a janky upper-class accent, you respond, "Why, of course, fine gentleman. I suppose that will suffice to toast said freezing buns."

You both laugh, and it makes you forget how cold you are. It's nice to kid around like old times. Like times before Hannah and Beth ran off into the woods and were never seen again. Things were easier then, it was easier to make jokes, easier to laugh.

You sink further into the couch as Josh piles wood into the fireplace.

"Josh?"

"Yeah?" He throws one last log in and pulls out a matchbook from his jeans.

"I'm happy to see you again. It's been a while."

"Too long," he agrees, striking and lighting the match.

You shift in your seat on the couch. "I guess I wanted to ask, are you okay?"

He freezes, and the match dies in his hand.

Shit, you went too far. What were you thinking, asking him how he is doing on the anniversary of the death of his little sisters? You begin to ramble, "Josh, I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that if you don't-"

"It's fine," he interrupts, "I'm fine."

You lean forward on the couch, "It's okay if you're not. Honestly, I wouldn't be."

He strikes the match again and lights the kindling as he talks. "I know that having our friends up here is going to help. It really means a lot to me that everyone is coming back to spend this weekend together."

The flickering flame nestled in the piled-on logs is growing in size, blossoming into a healthy, cozy fire. You can feel its warmth on your cheeks already.

Josh ambles over to the couch, sitting next to you—sitting very closely next to you. You almost scooch away, but decide to stay still.

Josh turns his body towards yours. "It means a lot to me that you came."

It's hard to keep your composure; his words feel too intimate and, god, his arm is resting on the couch behind you, one movement away from wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you close.

"Thanks, Josh," you force out, looking down at your hands. Your fingers are anxiously knotted together, a clear sign that your body is short-circuiting at his proximity.

He follows your gaze, watching you fidget in your lap. He then moves in, resting a hand on yours to quiet your restless fingers and placing the other beneath your jaw, using his knuckle to gently move your chin up so you face him.

You're freaking out. This is crazy. Why is he touching you like this?

"I-uh...well..." you stammer.

"Do you like me?" he whispers.

You freeze up; what do you even say to that? There's no way you can tell him you've had an embarrassingly unmanageable crush on him since the day you met. It could blow up the entire friendship. But, it's possible that he feels the same way you do, isn't it? His face is mere inches from yours!

Unless he doesn't feel the same way. After countless cruel and mean-spirited pranks, this friend group has sown distrust into every fiber of your body. You want to trust Josh with your true feelings, but can you?

Your mouth gapes, unable to articulate the paralyzing swirl of desire and fear coursing through you.

So you stay silent, and he retreats from your personal space, leaning back against the couch cushion, "Don't worry about answering now, I have a feeling everyone will know each other a lot better after tonight."

Your brow furrows at the crypticness of his statement, but before you can think about it too much, Josh's phone vibrates, and he gives you a knowing smirk, "Speak of the devil."

He gets off the couch and answers the phone while you try to keep your brain from spinning out of control. He was so close to you, which was really scary, but at the same time, it felt really good.

Josh teases the recipient on the other line about Ashley, so you take a guess that he's speaking to Chris.

He ends the phone call and turns to you, "Gotta go pick up the kids at the end of the trail, wanna come with?"

You press your lips together, "Um, I think I'll hang back. Y'know, unpack and stuff."

"Suit yourself," he shrugs, grabbing a flashlight and exiting the cabin.

Still in a daze, you head down the dark hallway and find your guest room. You unpack your clothes into the wooden dresser and throw your diary onto the patchwork quilt atop your bed. The bedroom is a familiar space to you, but it doesn't bring the comfort familiarity typically does.

You take some time to journal out your feelings, trying to work out the complex emotions that come with being back at this lodge after last year. Then, you take some time to write about Josh. How he had possibly come on to you tonight. How you wanted it to go further.

Voices begin to fill up the halls, so you leave your bedroom and journal to join everyone out in the living room. The fire is now roaring and Sam has arrived, so you go to greet her.

You expected everyone to be making an effort to get along considering the reason you're all up here, but since Josh has to separate Jess and Emily by sending Jess and Mike to the guest cabin, it's clear that no one is putting in the work.

The rest of the group swiftly and awkwardly disperse, each couple running off to deal with something whether it be finding a lost bag or a Ouija board. Whether they're making excuses so they don't have to stick around, you don't know, but it hurts to realize that your friend group will probably never recover from last year.

For a moment, Josh looks defeated, but he quickly plasters on his usual devil-may-care smirk.

Sam heads upstairs for a bath, but not before you pull her aside and whisper-shout about her audacious set-up. She laughs it off, and you both agree she can make it up to you with a card game in your room after she washes off.

Still feeling weird about Josh and the exchange earlier, you elect to read in your room instead of hanging out with him. Only, when you go back to the guest room to grab your book, you can't find it in your bag. What you don't notice is how your journal has also disappeared from its place on top of your bed.

"Hey, Josh?" You walk back into the living room to see Josh as well as Chris and Ashley sitting in front of a Ouija board, "Oh hi, Chris, Ashley. Have any of you seen my book?"

"There's a bunch of books around here," Chris shares unhelpfully.

Josh turns toward you, "What does it look like?"

You position your hands to give them a visual aid, "About this big? Green? Signed by the author on the inside?"

Your friends stare at you, blank, and you let your hands fall to your sides.

"Are you sure you packed it?" Ashley asks.

"Yes, I'm sure, and it's special so I really need to find it."

"Maybe it fell out when we were walking up?" Josh suggests.

"Ugh. You're probably right. I'm gonna go check," you say, zipping up your coat.

"I'll go with you," Josh offers, about to stand up before you say, "No, it's...it's fine."

"Are you sure you don't want some alone time with Josh?" Chris teases. Ashley laughs a little too hard.

With a grin, Josh adds on, "What if there are some baddies out there?"

You offer a weak smile, "I'll be fine. Like you said, there's no one else up here but us this weekend. Besides, Emily and Matt are down there getting a bag or whatever."

"Okay," Josh says, throwing his hands up in defeat.

You take a flashlight and head down the trail, squinting as the snow comes down heavier and heavier. After following your friends' footsteps all the way down the path, you spot your book on the bank of a narrow creek a little ways off the trail. You're not sure how it got there but are just happy to have it again.

Brushing off the light dusting of snow atop the book's cover, you're pleased to realize that the weather hasn't damaged the book at all. You're less pleased when you hear an arguing couple headed your way. You silently curse; you had hoped to make your journey as short as possible to avoid this dysfunctional pair.

They turn the corner and Matt sees you, calling out your name with a wave. Emily stares ahead with her arms crossed.

"Hey, guys!" you respond.

They walk up to join you, but your presence doesn't make an impact as they continue bickering all the way back up to the lodge. You succeed in tuning them out until Chris and Ashley appear out of the snowfall.

Your mouth falls open as you take the scene in: Ashley is curled into Chris's chest and her clothes are soaked with blood.

You hurry over to them, "Are you guys okay? What happened?"

Emily gasps, "Ashley, whose blood is that?"

Ashley lets out a strangled sob, clinging onto Chris.

"Chris, what happened?" Matt asks.

"J-Josh," Chris chokes out.

You take a step forward, "Josh what, Chris?"

"He's gone. It's all my fault. There's...there's a psycho on the mountain."

His words are like cold hands that squeeze your heart. There's no way.

"What did you say?" Emily cries, "There's like a serial killer up here?"

Ashley begins sobbing uncontrollably, "Yes! There's a killer and he's gonna kill us all if we don't get out of here!"

"It's okay, it's all gonna be okay," Matt says, and he turns to Emily, "We need to get help."

"But Sam," you interrupt, "Sam's still at the lodge!"

"You're right," Chris says, "We need to get everyone back together first."

"But we also need help!" Emily says, "If there's some psycho up here, I'm not just gonna go back and run into his arms!"

"Here," you say, "You and Matt go get help while Chris, Ashley, and I go back to the lodge to get Sam and everyone else."

"Fine!" Emily responds, "But we need to go, now!"

You split off into your separate directions. Ashley and Chris decide to check the upstairs bathroom while you hurry to check the guest rooms.

You fly down the hallway, opening and searching all the rooms lining the corridor. When you get to your room, you close your eyes and crack open the door, praying that when you open your eyes, your friend will be there, cards in hand, ready to play your make-up game.

"Sam?" you cry out. Nothing.

You check the closet and under the bed, thinking she could be hiding but still come up empty.

You're about to turn around to go check the rest of the rooms when a large hand clamps around your mouth, slamming your back into a hard chest so another arm can ambush you, wrapping around your waist and holding you still.

"Looking for your friend?" a distorted voice asks. Your eyes widen. Shit. This must be the psycho Ashley and Chris were talking about.

You begin to thrash against the body behind you, desperate to do anything to avoid whatever fate Josh had suffered. Your fight does nothing but make the arms around you constrict, the strength of the maniac locking you in place, pressed against their body.

"I wouldn't be difficult, if I were you," the voice states, and you're frightened into compliance when the maniac presses a syringe of mystery liquid up to your neck. You whimper against his glove.

"Now, now, there's no need to be scared," he tucks the syringe away and begins stroking your hair, "As long as you behave, you'll be in good hands."

Tears well up in your eyes and you suppress the urge to fight back again.

He seems lost in thought for a moment as he uses his gloved fingers to play with your hair, but shortly regains his focus, "If you promise to keep quiet, I won't have to use that syringe I showed you earlier," he chuckles, the sound metallic with the voice changer, before adding, "Not that anyone would hear you or be able to help."

You gasp, are Chris and Ashley okay? Is Sam?

He looks down at you, and you can see a part of the mask he's wearing in your peripheral vision. "Can you do that for me? Be nice and quiet like a good little kitten?" As he speaks, he slowly pulls down the zipper of your coat, exposing your tight v-neck shirt.

You press your eyes shut and give a curt nod. It's best to just go along with what he says, you want to try to make it out of this alive.

The man releases the hand over your mouth, and you make an effort to keep from breaking down in tears. The psycho takes a step back and away as you manually even your breathing.

"Sit on the bed and face me," he says.

You take a few uncertain steps forward, as though you were walking on a lurching boat, and sit on the patchwork quilt, cramming yourself close to the wall behind you and pulling your knees up to your chest. You raise your chin to face your attacker and cold fear washes over you.

He's tall, built, and looks like something right out of a slasher film. He's wearing oversized overalls dirtied with dried mud and a creepy skull-like mask that covers his entire head and neck. The syringe he threatened you with pokes out of his pocket, a reminder of the consequences if you don't comply. Down by his side, his gloved hand grips a journal—your journal.

He opens your diary and begins to carelessly flip through it, "Hmmm...maybe I should tell you a bedtime story to calm you down. There's a lot of great material in here."

Your fists ball up, scrunching the fabric of the quilt beneath them. "What do you want?" you grit out. Those entries are personal, and you'd have no idea why this intruder would be interested in reading them.

Ignoring you, the psycho flips to the page you had left your bookmark in. "Look at that, a recent entry," he darkly chuckles at his discovery, "I wonder what it says."

Your lips tighten, of all entries, why did it have to be that one?

"It's nothing, just random fucking friend group shit," you say.

The psycho looks up, gazing at you for once instead of the pages in his hands. "Then you wouldn't mind me reading it, would you?"

You open your mouth, helpless, "Um, no...you don't need to-"

The maniac lumbers towards you, just a few steps away, before he begins to recite your words.

"Fuck, Josh is so hot. It's literally torture. I want to take him into one of these guest rooms and just have my way with him. I'd let him do anything he wanted too, like let him just use my body for his pleasure. Ugh, I'm getting all hot just thinking about it. It's killing me that we were literally alone, and I think he was making a move on me, but I just didn't do anything about it. But I don't know, I don't want to push it after his sisters..." the psycho trails off.

Your face burns, feeling more embarrassed than scared now, even with a potential murderer standing before you. Your words sound so much more extreme and mortifying after being read aloud. Is that what he's trying to do, humiliate you?

The psycho closes the journal, steps forward, and tosses it onto the dresser. He's close now, boots planted on the red carpet in front of the bed, just a few paces away. He's watching you, his gaze suffocating, so you avert your own, instead focusing on the area above his left shoulder.

A glint in the corner of the room, right where the ceiling meets the two adjacent walls, catches your eye.

"Nothing to say about that entry, sweetheart?" the psycho asks, standing there with his gloved hands by his side as if he has all the time in the world.

This is getting suspicious; why is he asking you about your crush instead of, I don't know, killing you? It seems like such a trivial topic for a killer to be focused on...if he actually is one. Were Chris and Ashley wrong?

You peer at the shady corner of the room and are able to make out a circular object: a black and shiny lens. Above it is a dim but steadily blinking red light. You're being filmed. With that realization, you put it together.

They're pranking you.

It started with Sam tricking you into being alone with Josh, and then Chris teasing you about him, and then Ashley and Chris putting on a hell of a show trying to convince you some psycho is running around. Now, they're trying to terrify you into confessing your feelings. It's all some stupid, immature prank where you are the butt of the joke.

A deep frown forms on your face and you unfurl your body from its curled up position on the bed. Fury begins to pulse through your body.

"Now that I think about it, I actually have plenty to say about that entry." You stand up, taking a bold stride toward the "psycho". His hand raises to the pocket the syringe sticks out of, but you continue unfazed.

"First, let me start off with the fact that I will not let you guys scare and embarrass me for your own entertainment, alright?" You're almost yelling now, and the man watches as you continue your tirade.

You stare down the camera, gesticulating wildly, "I have feelings for Josh, okay? I want to fuck Josh. Hard." You throw your hands in the air, "And you can play all these stupid little tricks you want on me but I'm not going to let you guys make me feel bad about it. I don't give a fuck about what any of you think of me."

You sigh, exasperated, and face the speechless man standing in front of you. "There you go, hope you guys got the laugh you wanted."

He observes you as you shift your weight, the creepy eyes of the mask staring uncomfortably deep into you. You fold your arms, "So you can take the mask off now, okay? The prank's over, Chris."

"It's not Chris."

You press your lips together, "Okay, then who is it, Mike?"

The psycho speaks again, but this time, the voice-changer has been turned off.

"I think you know who it is."

Your eyes widen. There's no way you just confessed to-

The psycho's gloved hands rise to his head, and his fingers hook behind his mask and bring it down, revealing Josh's smirking face.

You take a wobbly step back, your anger disintegrating and leaving you without the confidence to speak as casually as you just were.

He chuckles, amused by your surprise and confusion. "This isn't how I imagined this going, but I'm not complaining about it." He places his mask next to your journal that's on top of the dresser.

A million thoughts and feelings begin swirling around your head and body at a vertigo-inducing pace, but they are all quieted when Josh steps forward and takes your hands in his gloves.

"Josh, what...what's going on?" you ask meekly, "Where is everyone?" It feels so contradictory, but knowing it's him near you, with his hands in yours, makes you feel so safe.

"I set up a few games for them," Josh says, "They should be entertained for a bit. But yeah, it's all one big prank. Gotcha!"

It feels like he's holding back a full reply. You look up at him, searching his green eyes for a complete answer, only to be met with a warm rush to your stomach at the fact that his gaze is soft, loving, and entirely focused on you. It's easier to fall into his warm embrace than insist on knowing more about the stupid prank, so you choose to just let it go.

Josh looks down and away, “Y’know, I’ve always been into you. I’m not good with this kind of thing but…I’ve always wanted to ask you out. I never got the courage to tell you that until now.”

Your heart flutters. “I was scared to tell you too, I just didn’t know how you’d react given…everything.”

He nods, “It feels like sometimes it takes a life-or-death situation to get people to confess their true feelings. Like Chris and Ashley, it’d take a gun to their head to get either of them to spill their guts.” 

“You’re probably right,” you giggle. 

Josh leans closer to you, hands moving from yours so they can rest on the curve of your waist. His thumbs slowly stroke your sides, provoking the urge to move his hands underneath your shirt to feel the sensation unobstructed. 

“So,” he starts, his voice quieter, dripping with something darker, “Was everything you wrote in your diary true?” 

You bring your arms up so they’re around his neck, pressing your body into his. Your soft chest melds into his hard sternum and heat radiates through his overalls to warm your skin. 

You tilt your head so your lips are centimeters from his, “You mean how I wrote pages upon pages of how bad I wanted to fuck you?” 

His hands tighten, squeezing your waist, and with his chest so close to yours, you can feel his heartbeat speed up at your words. 

“Fuck,” he says, “I guess I didn’t know you wanted it as much as I have.” 

You lean forward, closing the gap between your lips and kiss him, hard. You melt into each other, bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, devoid of any negative space. One of his hands comes up to your jaw and the other travels to the small of your back, pushing you further into him. 

Threading your fingers into his hair, you deepen the kiss, parting your lips and allowing your tongues to push into each other's mouths. He’s a little hesitant at first, but any self-consciousness vanishes when you begin to moan breathily into your open-mouthed kisses. Thoroughly encouraged by your noises of delight, he indulges in his desire, indulges in you.

His kisses are becoming messy and desperate as he works to keep receiving your pretty little noises. He runs his hands all over your body, feeling every dip and curve, wanting to touch all of you at the same time. Each brush of his hands sends tingles up your spine and you move with him, desiring nothing more but to keep your body underneath the palms of his hands.

You allow your hands to explore too, taking them downward, past the buttons of his shirt, the large pocket of his overalls, and his belt until they reach the hardness in his pants. You rest delicate fingers on it, tracing the outline and Josh breaks from your kiss to groan. 

You let out a shaky breath, “Shit, Josh. I want this. I want you.” 

He leans down and grabs the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up and against him. Now suspended, you tighten your arms around his neck, holding onto him. Josh lays you down on the quilt and you spread your body out, relaxing into the soft fabric and the euphoric buzz your body swims in. He crawls on top of you, pressing a kiss to your jaw, then your neck, and finally, to your collarbone all while you giggle and pull him close.

He hovers over you, “You know where I want to take you right?”

You laugh and point your finger into his chest, “Don’t you dare say that perverted phrase.” 

He smiles, bringing his hand up to his mouth to lock his lips and throw away the key. 

He begins to kiss your neck once more, and you squirm underneath him, overwhelmed by the sensation his warm and wet lips shock through your body. His shirt’s sleeves are rolled up, so you wrap your hands around his thick forearms to stabilize yourself. 

Josh moves the neckline of your t-shirt, kissing further down on the increasingly exposed skin. Each kiss sends heat blooming deep in your stomach, making it even harder to keep still with the waves of pleasure overtaking you. His fingers tug on the hem of your t-shirt, a silent ask for removal. You’re about to comply when the shine of the camera in the corner catches your eye once more, the lens trained directly on the bed. 

“Josh, the camera?” you ask. 

“Not on,” he mumbles, entranced by the sight and feeling of your chest. 

It’s enough reassurance for you to pull your coat and shirt off, uncovering your bra and torso. Your exposure gives you a sudden wave of self-doubt about the prank pulled on you and everyone's role in it. You still have questions since some things aren’t fitting together, but, shamefully, it’s hard to think critically when Josh’s lips feel so good against you. 

“Fuck, y’know you’re so pretty?” Josh whispers into your torso, lavishing your chest with kisses and licks as he worships your body, “All of our winter trips…s’been so hard to focus with you here. Just wanted to touch you.”

Your fingernails begin to dig into his forearms. “It was so hard for me too, Josh, I’ve had a crush on you for like ever.” He kisses just above your jeans and you let out a gasp. Your hand comes up to your mouth in an attempt to muffle your noises, but Josh pins your wrist to the bedspread. 

“Please,” he says, “I want…to hear you,” he presses another kiss to your pelvis, “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” 

“Okay,” you answer, breath hitching as he unbuttons your pants. He pulls your jeans off and throws them onto the rug. “Mmm, no fair,” you whine, using your free hand to knock one of his overall straps off his shoulder. He smiles, complying with your wishes by taking his overalls off, leaving him in his button-up and dark jeans. 

“Is this satisfactory for the princess?” he asks, waiting for you to evaluate his outfit. 

You tilt your head and grin, “Hmmm…satisfactory for now.” 

“Then, may I continue pleasuring my fair maiden?”

“You may,” you giggle. 

He kneels between your thighs and strokes his fingers along the curves of your legs, marveling at your beauty. 

“You have such a tight bod,” he says, breathless. He places a big hand on your lower stomach, “And so soft, too.”

A shy smile spreads across your face; the words from your crush make you feel tingly and giddy. “It makes me happy that you like my body,” you respond. 

“I love it,” he says, bending your knees and pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, amused by how you instinctively jerk at the sensation. “You like when I kiss you there?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 

Your breathing becomes uneven as he kisses further down your inner thigh, closing in on your underwear and the darkened patch where your wetness has soaked through the fabric. Josh’s rough hands slip down your thighs, holding them open and still despite the way you squirm when his lips feel a little too good. 

He pauses for a quick moment to pull off his shirt, leaving him in his dark henley top that hugs his lean build perfectly. 

“I want more off of you,” you demand, and Josh grins, stating that “Somebody’s eager.” 

His henley top comes off and shirtless Josh is between your legs once more, kissing just a few inches shy of your underwear. His hands roam as he does, gratefully squeezing the flesh of your thighs. 

He moans your name as he licks a stripe across the inside of your leg, sending the thoughts straight out of your brain. All you know is that he sounds so fucking hot when he moans your name. 

“C-can I take these off now?” he asks, placing a hand on your underwear, a twinge of desperation underlying his voice.

“Yes, please, Josh,” you gasp, thumbs already tucking into your waistband to get the burdensome fabric off as quickly as possible. 

He groans as your glistening folds are exposed, looking like he’s about to come just from the sight of you. Within seconds he’s nestled between your legs again, kissing your thighs until he gets to your soaked entrance. His hot breath fans against you, sending butterflies of anticipation up your sides. 

“I’ve been thinking about doing this for so long,” he admits before licking up your cunt with a flattened tongue, sending one of your hands down to get knotted into his hair and the other gripping onto the bedsheets for dear life. 

He continues to lick his tongue through your folds, and you begin to writhe underneath his touch, “Fuck, Josh, it…it feels really good.” 

He groans against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through your body. Your hips kick up against your will, but Josh pushes your pelvis back down into the mattress, palm firmly placed on your lower stomach, fingers spread. 

“Can’t have you wiggling around, now can we?” he says before diving into your pussy one more. He bathes your clit with attention, holding your hips down and keeping you still every time a flick of his tongue is too powerful for you to handle. 

Your fingers dig deep into Josh’s hair, pulling it gently, which he seems to enjoy with the way he groans into you. His hips buck a little into the mattress whenever you pull tighter, so desperate to get off to you.

He watches you as he pleasures you, devouring every little reaction with his dark and hungry green eyes. When you look down, you can see that one of his hands has slipped underneath his jeans, allowing him to palm himself to your delightful reactions. 

He begins to suck on your clit, kissing and taking it into his mouth rhythmically in a way that might just drive you out of your right mind. His mouth is warm and wet against you and each shockwave of pleasure it gifts breaks you down into smaller and smaller pieces. 

Honestly, it’s frightening how the bliss consumes you in totality: thoughts, body, everything. It’s better than any smutty fantasy you scribbled down in your journal. Your imagination could have never conjured up what it feels like to have Josh go down on you.

“You’re s’hot,” he says in between licks, “And taste so good, fuck.” 

You moan, and he becomes sloppier with his movements, too overcome by desire to think straight. You buck your hips against him and he lets you, allowing his hand to just sit on your pelvis instead of push it down.

Tingles of electricity shoot up your sides as you ride Josh’s tongue. He accommodates his mouth to every jerky thrust of your hips, fully giving in to your carnal pleasure. He watches you, eyes half-lidded, touching himself, and completely under the spell of your gyrating body. 

“Ah—fuck, Josh I’m so close.”

“Please,” he mumbles, his tongue and mouth inseparable from your wet cunt, “I want you to, I want you to come so bad.”

A strangled moan rips through your throat as an orgasm comes crashing down on you. You throw your head back against the quilt, eyes crinkled shut and mouth agape. The pleasure hits you in unforgiving waves, slamming into your poor body until it's through with you.

Josh strokes your quaking thighs, soothing the intensity of your climax and helping you through it. 

“Fuck—that’s it, there you go” Josh coos.

Your whole body falls limp, and you lie supine on the bed, the aftershocks of your orgasm still buzzing through you. Your canal throbs, squeezing around but the copious amount of slick dripping out of your pussy.

Josh clambers up to your face, kissing your cheek and forehead as you try to slow your panting. 

“Josh,” you slur, still trying to return to Earth. 

“Mmm?” he answers, placing a gentle kiss to your temple. 

“That was really good,” you manage to express. 

He smiles against your skin, lies down next to you, and wraps his arms around your body, holding you to him with a comforting firmness. Your hands rest on the bicep settled over your chest, and you snuggle into Josh’s embrace. He’s so warm, and smells so good. He’s exactly what you need after such a violent orgasm.

Your energy depleted, you slip off, so comfortable and safe in Josh’s arms. 

Josh waits until you're fully asleep before checking his watch. Based on the time, Ashley and Chris should be waking up soon from the sleeping gas he had poisoned them with.

Careful not to wake you, Josh slips out of the bed, dresses himself, and picks up the mask on the dresser.

"Sleep well, honey," he says with a smile before shutting the door behind him.

[ichore]

STUDY OF A SCANDAL | NEUVILLETTE

synopsis: a starving journalist, the iudex of fontaine and reader, the most talented soprano of teyvat all attend a ball at the opera epiclese where one scandal follows another as a storm does not allow anyone to leave.

tags, warnings: heavy drugs (aphrodisiac, ecstasy), involuntary drug consumption, neuvillette x afab!reader, reader is a talented singer, reader is secretly a water creature as old as Neuvi, MONSTER FUCKING, Neuvillette's takes reader in semi dragon form, journalist is a pos, cunnilingus, p -> v, unprotected, oh the consequences

wc: est 3.3k

It begins with a tear rolling down on the porcelain skin of the Iudex of Fontaine's full cheek.

As you stand tall all alone on the platform of the Opera Epiclese, not a shred of whisper or mumble leaves the people of the water nation - it's only your voice that vibrates in between their bodies, it crawls at the high walls and crimson drapes and threatens to never leave. You've sung these songs many times across all of Teyvat; you're considered an Honored Guest wherever you decided to set foot. But your heart belongs to Fontaine, and such is evident in the way your gaze lingers on its people ahead of you.

Then, as if it's supposed to be part of your show, as the last note of your last song bubbles in your throat, a clash of thunders shakes the building.

The Melusines are quick on their short legs to inform everyone to stay inside, and whereas there's no need to worry, it would be best if everyone waited in the Opera Epiclese until the storm ended. Curses and hisses rumble across the people meanwhile the Iudex of Fontaine leaves his seat and his noiseless steps carry him to his office. It's only you who notices how his shoulders rise and fall in the familiar motion of weeping, how his cloth napkin soaks in the tears that escape him despite his greatest effort to soothe himself. 

“If it's fine with everyone,” you begin with your voice exhausted and slightly croak from your show. “I have enough cakes and fruits to invite everyone for a spontaneous little ball to spend the time. I'm sure my colleagues would love to entertain you with their music, as well.”

The storm is almost like a gift to you: finally you don't have to worry about wasting all the precious food that people gift you. Usually you give the majority away for the poor, but because finding such families takes time, a good amount still spoils. Such kindness in your heart is the second reason Teyvat adores you, and that same tenderness makes you rush after the Iudex with your dress held a bit higher in your fists so you don't trip.

“Excuse me?” you hear a nervous male voice call out to you, and you reluctantly stop in your tracks to offer a smile to the journalist standing ahead of you. He's skinny, too skinny to be healthy, you think. His hair crown is already fading from the top of his head, the lilac bruise of exhaustion rests under his eyes, but you suppose that he cannot be more than thirty.

“I'm happy to give you an interview later. I'm rather busy with something right now, I hope you don't mind.” you say.

“No, not at all. I just wanted to give you this.” He pulls out a heart-shaped, crimson silk wrapped box from under his arm. Chocolate, more food, great. “I know what you're thinking, but this is the Iudex's favorite and the filling is the finest Valberry jam from Mondstadt. It's very hard to get a box of these nowadays.”

“Oh, my,” you fill your heart sink at the thought of the trouble this poor man went through just to please you, and the furrow of your brow lets him know that you're sold before you take away the box. “I can't thank you enough. Is it okay with you if I share it with the Iudex? You mentioned it's also his favorite.”

“Well, yes, of course. Please enjoy. But I suppose you're in a hurry, so I shall leave you to it.” he bows as he takes your free, white silk cloaked hand and presses your knuckles against his chapped lips. “It was a pleasure meeting you. You're just as beautiful and kind as the rumors say so.”

“Thank you, once again.” you bob a quick curtsy to him before leaving him behind. He watches the white, lacy patterns on the bottom of your turquoise dress wash against the floor as you continue your hurried steps to one Melusine to another to find Monsieur Neuvillette. A smirk deepens at the side of his mouth as he watches you open the box and eat the first piece of chocolate while you wait to be let into his office, and he's already thinking about just how many good pictures he's going to take of you and the Iudex.

A shiver runs across your spine, gooseflesh blooms on your skin when you finally stand ahead of Neuvillette. He's facing his high windows, taking in the view of the year's most brutal storm: trees are bending and breaking, the wind carries away the flowers of the streets and he notices some personal possessions fly across the asphalt. As the Iudex, he's already thinking about how to fix this mess. But as Neuvillette, he can't stop his body from shaking.

“Apologies for leaving without a word. Your show was most exquisite … it touched my soul in ways I cannot find the words to describe.” The tremble in his voice is enough for you to understand the waves of emotions that wash through him.

“Don't worry, Monsieur. Knowing my music has these effects on such a great man like yourself is a compliment on its own. I will remember it for the rest of my life with pride.” Despite him having his back facing you, you can see on the reflection of the window that his usually bright gaze is darker and they're fixated on your form. You offer a slight curtsy, and you swear it's only a long second that you close your eyes for, yet when you lift your chin, he's standing closer to you with his face ahead of yours. He's so close, you can smell the lavender oil the Melusines treat his luscious hair with and the sea salt that they use to wash his clothes.

“And proud is what you should be,” he begins. “It's been a long time since I've felt such an emotional turmoil. Yet, I don't think the language you sing in is familiar to me.”

“It's a dead language,” you nod. Your fingers begin to play with the material of your dress at your sides. “My mother taught it to me when I was little. I know phrases and words, but I can't tell you where the language is from or who used it.”

“No one else speaks this language, yet you manage to touch all of Teyvat with it. You're a real talent, and it's been my pleasure to have you visit our nation.” 

“Oh, it's been a pleasure more of mine, really.” You flash your pearly white teeth at him in a smile, and you swear that at the same second, from his window, you can see the storm lose its vigor and turn into a windless pour of rain. “I just wanted to check upon you, and share this box of chocolate with you at the same time if it's fine with you. A kind gentleman gave this to me saying that this is your favorite.”

“Strange, I can't recall ever seeing, let alone tasting such a dessert from Mondstadt.” He hums against the side of his index finger while musing. In the back of your mind, you already know that someone would lie about such a thing, but a strange, hurricane-like sensation washes across you as you stare at the man towering right ahead of you. The distinct color of his eyes, the ivory color of his healthy locks, the perfect pale skin are all calling to you for a touch, and you press your thighs together as your liquid desire begins to swell in between your folds. “How was it?”

“I'm sorry, what was the question?” you shake your head and laugh a little to be able to tear your stare away from him. The heat is already rising to your head, painting your cheeks rosy with a deep blush.

“I can see you already ate one. Was it to your liking?” the vibrations of his voice are more apparent, you realize, and it pains you that you can't swallow them in a kiss right now.

“Yes, Monsieur. I think it's quite nice. Has a little bit of a strange aftertaste, but otherwise it's delicious. The Valberry jam filling is extraordinary. ”

“Please, call me Neuvillette,” he returns your smile as he takes one of heart shaped chocolates into his mouth before he motions towards the couch, insisting that you sit down while he places the box on his table. “It's delicious indeed. I suppose I can trust your judgment when it comes to sweets in the future.”

“Thank you, Neuvillette.” You whisper. Sweat already begins to pearl at your hairline and on your nape by the time he takes off his cloak and his weight sinks into the couch so painfully close to you, you can feel his thigh brush against yours through your dress. 

“If it isn't too much to ask,” he begins. “Can you tell me what the story is behind your last song?”

“Well… it's a love story. A tragic one.” his colors appear brighter and clearer with each passing second, his icy appearance calling to you for a release from this burning that consumes you within. You can't look him in the eyes anymore, you realize while watching your fingers get lost in the vibrant color of your skirt. “It's about two lovers who were washed apart by the Archons and the primordial sea, never to see each other again, forced to spend their entire lives yearning for the other. But one day, they meet, but one doesn't remember the other anymore.”

“Sounds Fontanian,” Neuvillette muses as he loosens the knot on his scarf, revealing his swan-like neck to you. “Apologies, it's awfully hot in here today.”

“No worries,” you offer a smile, but the first sweat drop already begins to roll down on your temple and in your thoughts, you're mumbling thousands of curses at how tight your corset is. Yet, you do not find yourself wishing for air, but yearning to steal it from Neuvillette’s lungs. “My mother was from Fontaine, so it does make sense that the language originated from somewhere here.”

“Makes it even stranger that I can't recall hearing it before, however - ” 

“Neuvillette …I,” you cut into his words, hesitating to continue your words, but you're certain that you're edging closer and closer to fainting if you don't get some air soon. “It's very unethical of me to ask you, but would you be so kind as to loosen my corset for me a little?”

“Of course,” and the moment you touch his reached out hand to help you stand up, you wish you could tell him that it doesn't matter anymore and that you just need to go outside. But the rain is still pouring and the haze on your mind refuses to leave. The touch of his fingers are ever so delicate and delicious as they open the back of your dress to get to your corset. Your neck tilts and a sigh leaves your lips as the pressure on your ribs eases, and in your moment of relief, you don't notice Neuvillette's halt in his movements.

The sight of the crook of your neck invites him in for a kiss as his arms circle around your waist under your dress - at first, his touches are unsure, but as a satisfied hum leaves you, his arms tighten around you and his kisses travel from your neck to your jaw. Your eyelashes flutter when your gaze meets his, as if to give him permission to his begging eyes, that yes, he can very much kiss you. His lips feel like the sweetest sea foam: so delightful and gentle, and you can finally feel your lungs be filled with his being. You push your dress down, making it pool around your feet while Neuvillette's hands brush up on your belly to reach the front of your corset before pushing it off you and letting it fall on the dress. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, and you feel his cock twitch against your ass as he begins to fondle your breasts. He swallows every whimper that escapes your lips when he takes each of your nipples in between his fingers, playing a rough game with them. “I adore your voice, the noises you make. The thought of making you sing in pleasure for me is driving me mad. Please, let me make you mine.”

“I'm yours, all yours,” you're ready to beg for more, but as if he can read your thoughts, he lays you across the couch before he frees you of your panties, panty hoes and shoes. For a brief second, you can hear a clicking sound from the distance, but the desire entirely engulf you both that you don't notice the barely open entrance door and the journalist with his camera. If this all wasn't for him being able to put bread on his table, he would've admitted that there is something magical about the way Neuvillette's tongue finds all the right spots in your cunt. It really does make a sensational picture: the Iudex of Fontaine devouring Teyvat's most famous soprano like his life depends on it.

But for Neuvillette, that feeling is as real as your hands holding onto his ivory hair. For a while, he wondered what got into him, but his words to you were true and the sounds that escape you makes him throw away every logical reasoning as to why he shouldn't suck on your clit or push his tongue so deep into you that it makes you cry out. 

“Right there, hng, please -” his eyes that were fixated on you the whole time now roll back as he feels the gush of your ecstasy pour into his mouth. He can't help, but get rid of his own clothes in fast but drunken movements, and he's ready to get back on top of you before something feral awakens in him. It's the glowing of his irises that you notice first between your thighs, then you swear that you can see his tongue stretch and part into two at its tip while his suddenly longer nails rake across your sides. This time, he's eating at you with primal hunger while one of his grip finds his growing cock and strokes it in the same fast rhythm his tongue dances inside you. You scream, you squirm, but it only makes him become all the more fast and rough as his upper lip rubs against your clit.

“What the fuck,” the journalist mumbles under his breath, his eyes widening in terror as Neuvillette's lower body grows navy blue scales, a forked tail emerges from the end of his spine and his dick is becoming dark and enormous enough that seemingly only the tip would be enough to fill you up. With shaky hands, he takes a picture.

“So it is you, hng, fuck-” you try to tell Neuvillette as another, but more powerful climax numbs your mind. Your heart flutters at the man standing ahead of you, and your love is the only thing that helps you think straight. “I've been looking for you my whole life, Hydro Dragon, my love.” 

“You're not terrified…” Neuvillette notes, his chest sinking with a sigh of relief before he questions what you said to him. It's an animalistic instinct that makes him kneel between your legs, rubbing his entire length across your folds to coat it in the mixture of his spit and your sticky juices. A whimper leaves your lips each time his thick head threatens to push into your entrance. “You're not human either, are you?”

“No,” you say simply as green scales begin to form on your thighs where Neuvillette is stroking you before they disappear again. Fighting your lavender haze of lingering orgasm, you sit up to take his tip in your palm to rub it for him as you continue. “I'm a siren. So don't worry, I can take this.”

“The song…” his brows furrow as you position his cock against your pussy, and begin to push yourself against it. It's painfully slow: he can feel every crook and cany of your insides, the blood in your veins welcoming him, the very wetness and warmth of you swallowing him so eagerly until his balls meet your ass. He shudders.

“It's about us, my love. You forgot about me.” You moan as you feel your insides adjust to his size. No matter how many human lovers you took over the millennium, no one and nothing ever compares to Neuvillette.

“Forgive me,” his lizard-like tongue dances along with yours as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up into the air. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms hold him in a sweaty embrace as he begins to slowly pull you up and down on the length of his cock. “Forgive me.”

“It was never your fault, hng, please go faster.” you beg of him as you look down at the sight of the two of you. His legs are of a dragon, his black claws digging at the wooden floor to hold himself in place as he begins to pick up the pace.

“I remember this,” he whispers as he loses himself in the feeling of you wraps around his entire being: your sound, your smell, your eyes. He remembers it all now, and his thrusts become rougher as if he feels angry at all the years you didn't spend together. Not only did they take you from him, they didn't even leave the memory of you. Tears begin to pour from his eyes as he kisses you again, his arms tighten around you and his thrusts become sloppy, but the clenching of your orgasm pushes him over his own pinnacle and he paints your walls white with his seed.

“Don't cry, my love,” you stroke his hair while his tears fall on your collarbone after he gently places you on the couch and he lays on top of you, his body slowly transforming back to human. “We found each other, that's all that matters.”

“What about you? Your loneliness? Your fright?” his voice shakes, and you can hear another powerful wind jerk at the buildings outside.

“I've always known we'd find our way back to each other. When I was lonely, I always recalled nights like this or when you were crying because of a song about a fish family when my parents invited you over to their coral palace. I've always remembered the kindness of your heart, and I carried it with me as my companion.” you comfort him and a smile tugs at your lips as the gray clouds begin to part on the sky, and the sunlight seeps through. You think about asking Neuvillette if he wants to check on the guests, but you find him with his eyes closed and deep in a slumber.

As you are trapped beneath him and you can't hear music anymore, you suppose that everyone else already left and you can also rest.

Until you hear the click sound of a camera.

“Needless to say, you're fired,” the Chief Editor of Steambird doesn't even bother to open the envelope that contains the erotic pictures of Neuvillette and you before she tears it into shreds. “Drugging the Iudex AND a Teyvat famous star? What were you even thinking? Hell, I even doubt you were thinking at all.”

“But…” the journalist begins, but the Editor holds up her hand to halt his words.

“You're to leave this company effective immediately. And if I were you, I'd be crawling on my knees to Monsieur Neuvillette for an apology and a huge thank you for not having you executed for treason.”

And with two boxes of worthless papers and without a penny in his pocket, the only mortal who knows your love story and your true being becomes your enemy.

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '23: Pussy Eating | Kim Taehyung

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), friends to lovers

Summary: Getting high with Taehyung was a very common occurrence. Him getting jealous and eating you out while you're high off your ass is most definitely not

WC: 3.3k

Warnings: Explicit use of weed, shotgunning, oral (fem receiving), mentions of alcohol maybe, overstimulation if you squint, multiple orgasms, jealousy, Jungkook is touchy when he's high

A/N: Self indulgence at its finest. Let me know what you think, reblogs and comments are appreciated!!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

You didn't like parties. They were loud, and every surface was contaminated with some sort of inexplicably sticky...something. But you did like getting high, and you especially liked getting high with your favorite smoking buddy. Unfortunately for you, that generally meant crashing one of Hoseok's parties on the weekends and pushing your way through sweaty crowds and spilled drinks to find him.

So yet again, here you were, wasting a Saturday evening as you stepped through the doors of Hoseok's unreasonably large house. You knew his family had money, but was it necessary to flaunt it all the time? The music was heavy, and the haze of smoke filled the room as soon as the door swung open to welcome you in. It wasn't Hoseok that opened it, instead you found a glaringly sober Yoongi standing there with an exhausted look on his face. He didn't like these parties either, but he loved Hobi, so you supposed he ended up getting roped into them for the same reasons you did.

His expression changed to one of relief when he saw you, welcoming you inside and closing the door behind you.

"Didn't think you were coming tonight," He said, leaning closer to you to be heard over the music. He guided you through the crowd with a barely there hand on your back. You shrugged.

"Didn't plan on it, but I had a shit week and I'm out. Gonna steal some of Tae's good stuff," You said. Yoongi nodded knowingly. You tried really hard to keep your feelings to yourself. After all, Taehyung wasn't the settling down sort. He wasn't a manwhore like people seemed to think, but he made it exceedingly clear that he wasn't ready to be tied down, and as his friend first and foremost, you respected that.

"He was out back last time I saw him," Yoongi said. "Do you want me to look for him?"

You shook your head, giving Yoongi a half hug before parting ways and diving even deeper into the crowded sitting room. You could see the beer pong table set up in the corner like always, spying Seokjin and a few of his friends gathered around it, clearly a couple of rounds deep. You decided to avoid that chaos, making straight for the kitchen, and squeezing out onto the patio past the couple that decided that the doorway was the perfect place to suck face.

Even though you'd only been in the house for a matter of minutes, the warm summer air was a welcome sensation, freeing you from the stuffy, alcohol fumed house. You scanned the yard, spotting Taehyung and Jungkook with a handful of others over by the pool. You didn't want to interrupt, and fully considering saying fuck your goals of getting high off your ass in the guest bedroom and just going home. But then he saw you, and his flirty smirk turned into a full bodied grin. He waved you over, and then it was over. Your legs were moving before you could even try to argue. You'd never been good at arguing with him anyway.

He slipped out of the way, making space between himself and Jungkook for you to settle between them. The younger boy grinned, wrapping an arm around you in a half greeting, clearly having already indulged in something or other to loosen him up. Then he was back to flirting with the pretty girl beside him, arm falling to half sit on your waist. You disregarded it, knowing how he was when he was intoxicated.

"You said you weren't gonna come," Taehyung said, immediately passing you the half burnt joint he'd been puffing off of. You took a hit before answering, letting the smoke curl in your lungs and re-introducing yourself to that familiar burn before letting it out again.

"Didn't plan on it. But I'm out of weed, and you're here, so it's not like I had anything better to do." You said. You tried to pass back his joint, but he just waved it off, and you took that as permission to keep going. By the time it was gone, you could already feel your body relaxing, your mind slowing down just the way you liked.

"Well, it's a good thing you came. I was gonna be bored if you didn't. Thought I was gonna have to come to your house after this,"

You rolled your eyes.

"Like I'd let you in, high as hell at four in the damn morning." You scolded him. You could feel your body giving out on you, letting you lean slowly towards Jungkook who was so far gone he didn't even notice. But that meant Taehyung was getting further away. Or it should have, but maybe he was shifting with you, moving until your hips were pressed together, until he was slinging your legs over his lap. That was nice.

"You would. You always let me in." He said. If you were sober, maybe you would have been mad that he'd call you out on your absolutely whipped behavior, but you weren't sober, and it was so much harder to stay mad at him when you were high. He just looked so pretty through your hazy eyes, dark curls around his head like a halo, and big brown eyes that you got so lost in.

"Yeah, maybe. But only you." You confessed, a bout of giggles bursting out afterwards. When had he lit up again? You pouted. "I want some,"

He took a hit, holding out his hand. You took it and let him pull you up. Then his face was getting closer to you, and you almost started away, but his hand was behind your head, pressing you closer. His lips slotted over yours. The hand that had been steadying your head came down, stroking his fingertips along your jaw, then thumbing at your bottom lip, guiding your mouth open. You closed your eyes, letting him exhale the smoke past your lips, slowly breathing it in.

When he pulls away, it feels like all the air in your lungs has been sucked out, and you're not sure if it was from him or the smoke. You let it out again, closing your eyes and trying in your fogged up brain to process what just happened. He was touchy when he was high, overly affectionate and maybe even clingy, but you'd never shotgunned before, never been that close to tasting him. It was fucking with your head. But then he was letting you go, and you leaned back against Jungkook again and the moment had passed. You were too high to notice the way his eyes flicked to his best friend, who was too high to think much about the way he was touching you. Jungkook reached around you again, an arm around your waist, slipping against the skin where your shirt had ridden up ever so slightly. The touch made you jolt, eyes opening again before you giggled and relaxed.

Taehyung, however, couldn't relax. Well, not really. No more than the two joints were letting him. He had thought you'd been getting his hints, that you were reciprocating. But there you were, high off of his shit, and cuddled up to his best friend as if he wasn't the one who you spent all your time with. Taehyung wasn't a jealous person, not really, but sometimes it would bubble deep in his stomach, and rise in his throat and make him feel sick. Only sometimes, and always with you. He stood up, not saying a word to anyone as he headed for the house. He didn't really have a plan, maybe grab a drink? Even though he really wasn't a fan of being crossed. It didn't matter, he just needed to get away.

You felt him move beside you, heard the sound of his footsteps walking away. And as if on instinct, driven by something deeper than conscious thought, you flung yourself to your feet, knocking Jungkook's hand away. He looked at you, but he didn't say anything, just went back to his conversation. The first few steps you took felt as if the world was shifting ever so slightly under your feet, but you caught your balance fast.

"Tae," You called out to him, but he didn't look back, so you called him again. "Taehyung, wait a second."

He didn't. He was a good few strides ahead of you, being swallowed up by the crowd. You huffed, pressing back into the overheated, crushing crowd of bodies in search for him. He never left you like that, especially not at parties. He knew you hated them. Knew you only ever came for him in the first place.

The music was making your brain vibrate in your head, and you had to blink a few times to register the faces in front of you, but before you knew it, there was Yoongi, still looking sober and bored and leaned up against the wall.

"Hey, did you see Tae?" You asked, reaching out for his arm. He wordlessly pointed towards the stairs, and your questions were answered. You thanked him, or at least you thought it, and then you were hauling yourself up the stairs.

It was quieter upstairs. Most people moved towards the basement instead of the upper levels, leaving the personal rooms alone. Only your friend group tended to come up here during the parties. You knocked on Hobi's bedroom door, then opened it to find it empty. The bathroom door was wide open, and empty, so you moved on to the guest room. You knocked, but again there was no answer. You tried the door handle. Locked.

"Taehyung," You whined, knocking on the door again. You could hear the shuffle of the bedding. "Open the door. I don't wanna stand up anymore."

You could see his shadow under the door as he came over, then the lock clicked and it swung open. He had the cutest pout on his face, and you were overwhelmed by the longing to kiss it away. You gathered up all of the self control that you had to not do that.

You didn't speak, just used the weight of your body to nudge him out of the way, pressing your entire self against him until he gave way and you both stumbled in the door with a burst of stifled giggling. You flopped back onto the bed and waited for him to sit down beside you.

"Why did you run away?" You asked, closing your eyes. He didn't answer right away, just traced his fingers against the skin of your forearm. You let him, let each movement sink beneath your skin and join the quiet hum that your body always seemed to let off when he touched you.

"You were with Jungkook. Gave you space," He answered. You opened your eyes, giving him a confused glance.

"I came for you. I always do." You told him. It wasn't like he didn't know that. He must have known the power he held over you, the power he'd held for so long that you couldn't even remember when it started. No, your Taehyung wasn't stupid.

There was another long pause as he laid down beside you, arm slinging heavy over your waist and pulling you closer to him. You turned your head, your noses brushing and his big brown eyes trained on your face. You couldn't breathe then, and you weren't sure if that was the proximity or the way the weed was weighing down your entire body.

"I don't like when other people touch you," He said, shifting so he could prop himself up on his elbow, his face hovering over yours. You watched his gaze drop to your lips, then climb back up to your eyes. "And you were just letting him. Should have been me. Always should be me,"

You couldn't fight off the impulses any longer, your self control slipping through your numbed fingertips, and then you were pulling him down to kiss him. His lips were softer than you imagined, and you could taste the warmth of him under the heady layer of smoke on his tongue. He kissed you back as if it were the last thing he'd ever do. His hand gripped at your waist, pressing you closer to him as he devoured your mouth. It was hungry, but lazy, slow licks and presses of his lips and the occasional suck against your tongue or your lip until you had to pull away. Your mind was fogged up, and you felt dizzy as you tipped your head back against the pillows.

Taehyung couldn't seem to leave his mouth idle, leaning down to suck a mark into the sensitive spot under your jaw. Then he was just kissing your skin, tongue gliding against the skin and swallowing down the closeness you were sharing. His hand didn't move, anchoring you to him and keeping the both of you grounded in the moment.

"Tae," You whined, guiding his mouth back up to yours and he was happy to give you more. You moved your hands down, pushing and tugging at his shirt enough to move it up his stomach, then your hands roamed beneath it, tracing the planes of his stomach, up his chest. He hissed when your fingertips carved slow circles around his nipples.

"Sensitive," He muttered against your lips, and you hummed your acknowledgement, teasing them anyway and soaking up the low hums and moans he let out. It didn't last as long as you wanted, especially considering that feeling the way his body reacted to you was something you'd be more than happy to spend days doing. He sat up, pulling his shirt over his head and then helping you take yours off in turn. His stared at you, eyes dark and heavy as he admired you. Then he was taking your bra off, then stripping your bottom half. Despite the desperation that was so evident in his actions, every move was slow, unhurried, until you were bare underneath him.

His lips spread slow and steady into a grin, and you laughed, the sweetest sound to his ears.

"Can I touch you now?" He asked. You nodded, guiding his large hands back to your skin and letting him explore. He ran them up your stomach, then down to your hips, kneading at your thighs and pushing them open to expose your core to him. He groaned, a look of pure disbelief taking over his face for a moment before he was touching you. There was very little wind up, but he took his time once his fingers brushed against your already glistening folds.

He stroked up and down your pussy, letting his thumb press between your lips to gather more of your arousal. He dragged it over your clit, reveling in the broken sounds you made, in the way your hips pressed closer without even realizing it. He rubbed slow, steady circles on it. Not nearly fast enough, but not slow enough to stop the steadily building need.

"Taehyung," You gasped out, lost in the feeling of him familiarizing himself with your body.

"Say it again," He said, voice lower than you'd heard it and zapping through you like a shockwave. "Say my name again."

"Taehyung," You whined again, this time pressing your hips harder into his touch, rocking against his fingers and moaning at the feeling. Taehyung gave you exactly what you wanted, pinning your hips down and rubbing your clit harsher.

"Again,"

"Taehyung," This time it was a full bodied moan, louder than you really realized, not that you cared. He grinned, shifting so he was laying between your thighs.

"Gonna make you scream my name, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good, promise."

He kissed at your thighs, mouth dragging up one, then down the other while his fingers continued to build you up. You melted into the bed, year hand curling into his hair and giving it the slightest tug. He grunted softly, nipping at the skin of your thigh and then dragging his tongue over it to soothe the sting.

Then his hand was gone, and you almost had enough time to process the loss before his mouth clamped over your pussy, tongue flicking over your clit. You gasped, back arching off the bed before pressing back to roll your hips against his warm mouth.

You hadn't expected this, but you probably should have. It wasn't like you'd never sat through one too many rants from Taehyung about how eating pussy was a dying art, and he was more than happy to single handedly rekindle it. But you had underestimated his skill, the way he found the most sensitive spots to poke, and prod, and suck at. You were dripping, though you couldn't tell if it was from his spit or your own arousal, probably a decent amount of both given the way he was diving into you.

His tongue dipped into your eager hole, his nose bumping against your clit. You wailed, voice too loud and echoing in the room around you, but it didn't matter when all it did was spur him on. Your fingers tugged at his hair, hips grinding into his mouth until you were practically grinding on his face, but he didn't make any move to stop you. He let you use him, let his tongue fuck into your desperate hole, slurping and moaning against you in the filthiest show of desire you'd ever seen.

"Taehyung," You gasped out again, trying to warn him, but he didn't seem to hear, or maybe he didn't care, and your body and mind felt too heavy to try over again so you let your orgasm wash over you, a cry of his name filling the room as your thighs twitched shut around his head. He kept going anyway, palms pressing on the insides of your knees and tongue working your clit in fast, sharp circles. You couldn't tell if your orgasm lasted forever, or if he was able to spiral you into another one in an instant.

His fingers joined the mix, sliding into your pussy to feel the way your walls pulsed and clenched around him, and his entire being was taken over by the taste of you on his tongue, so warm and sweet and driven home by the scent that was surrounding him.

"I can't," You sobbed out, hips wriggling away from him, but he pulled you back to his face. His tongue was slower now, more languid as he cleaned your juices from your core, easy and deliberate and not seeking your pleasure anymore, but seeking just a little more of your taste overwhelming everything else in him. Even still, with the oversensitivity, and the intoxicated, fuzzy state you were still in, it was enough to push you under the waves again. This orgasm was significantly gentler, but it left you dripping and trembling in his hold until he finally sat up.

You blinked at him, trying to see through the film that felt like it had been pulled over your vision. His hair was a mess, his already plump lips swollen from the work they'd put in and glistening with your essence. He smiled, smug and so very satisfied as he crawled up your body to press his lips to yours once, twice, then a third, much longer time. Your hand cupped his cheek, noting how he was still covered in you, until finally he pulled away. He laid down at your side, wiping his face on his arm and then tugging you against him.

"Don't leave me for someone else," He muttered, nose brushing against your neck and breath tickling your skin. You giggled, and then he giggled, and then you were dead serious again.

"I couldn't leave you even if I wanted to. I'm all yours, Tae. For good."

copyright 2023 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved

[thisismeracing]

Just us | LH44

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

Pairing: black!singer!reader (she/her) x lewis hamilton

Warnings: curse words, Twitter environment, it’s not proofread, etc etc. Minors DNI!

summary: Some fans noticed how Leiws is constantly listening to Y/n's songs and decided to back him up and make it happen a bit faster. Will their cupid play work?

a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

my masterlist | my taglist

f1updates

liked by lewishamilton, and others

f1updates We have a new guest this weekend 😉

View all 7,634 comments

lewisleclerc WHYS IS LEWIS UNSHAMEFULLY LURKING HERE??? Lmaooo

ynsunshine I am so jealous of lewis rn 😭

auroraf1 she is so pretty I wanna cry

lewis44m They have the same energy istg, both gorgeous, both stylish, both rich. Its their world, we just living in it l, at this point

mercedesamgf1

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc, and others

mercedesamgf1 I wonder why he is this happy 🤔🤔🤔🤭

view all 14,328 comments

justusyn LMFAO I love you, mercedes admin!!!

sirlewis44 I love how he tried to be smooth but we were too anxious and did it in less than a month hahahahaha

mercedesmiracle He will absolutely win today, rain or no rain

f1fantasy he looks so good ugh 😩

lewisfan

liked by yourusername, and others

lewisfan Lewis the whole interview vs. Lewis when someone mentioned Yn

view all 3,425 comnents

1directioncars He’s a simp!

princessyn YN LIKED HAHAHAHAH

popyn they are in love, I can’t prove, but I just know they are

winterraces I am so happy, both if theem seem to be glowing lately 🥹

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, lizzobeating, and others

yourusername vroom vroom 💜

view all 18,263 comments

swifttyn madam, whose car is this?

⤷ f1fantasy It def Lewis’

hundredmiles1 Lewis is such a lucky mf 😭 I wanna be him so bad

ynfrance New album dropping when?

ferrarisainz YOURE TELLING ME HE LET HER DRIVE HIS CAR???????!

mercedesmystical the caption is sending me 😂😂😂😂

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and others

lewishamilton just us ❤️

view all 18,930 comments

popyn they are in love, I can prove

lewiswchampion The last picture is sending me 😂😂😂

⤷ ynsunny boyfriend goals

mercedesamgf1 💜💜💜💜

⤷ tifositilltheend Even mercedes approves!

schumercedes Wanna bet “just us” is Yns new single and he’s casually dropping some hints about it?

yourusername it’s just us against the world ❤️

elitebarzal I am so happy I made part of the making of this couple

⤷ szayn bestie, I will tell that to my future kids 😭

yourusername

liked by summerwalker, lewishamilton and others

yoursername Just Us is out now in every stream platform 💋

view all 21,203 comments

mickmercedes I want what they have

⤷ russelllindo but you dont even know what they have 🧐

⤷ mickmercedes but I want it anyway

lewishamilton so proud of you ❤️

⤷ yourusername of us! ❤️

lewislegit YALL TELLING ME HE WROTE THE SONG TOO?????

mercedesamgf1 We have it on loop on our race day playlist 😌

tintedf1car do you guys need

eliteschumacher mom and dad

***********************************

If you liked it, make sure to like and reblog <3 feel free to talk to me as well, my inbox is always open!

I will start a taglist on my posts, to be part of it you just gotta comment/send an ask saying so, and most important: have your age in your profile (I don't interact with minors!). See you guys next story! <3

[killedpink]

한 지성 | a special appearance.

🎧 masterlist !?

📷 synopsis: your very much pined over friend and coworker, jisung, discovers your cam show. luckily for you, all he wants in the world is to be featured on your show as your first guest.

📖 word count: 6.3K

📂 contains: camming reader, unprotected sex, filmmaking, coworker setting, friends to lovers, afab reader, mutual pining, i mention jisung's eyes a lot here let's not acknowledge it please, slight fingering, oral sex, deepthroating, hair pulling, dirty talk, marking, thigh riding, cum consumption, creampie

when you started your camming business, you didn't expect it to grow in popularity. the website you used just barely scratched top three biggest sites each year, but somehow you still raked in millions of views across your platform. the pay wasn't too bad, either — it was enough to cover the expenses of living and then some, which is especially good once you take into account that camming is only a side hustle. you'd get on once a week at best, keep your identity private and in exchange be generously tipped. not a bad set-up, right?

until one day where your coworker (the only one in your workplace who you think about in detail during your sessions) grows awkward around you, which is even more heartbreaking considering you have good chemistry together. so, you approach him when you finally catch him alone when you're both doing overtime, and you politely demand answers out of his round, plump pink lips. jisung flushed ten different shades of red before his features settle into an anxiousness. "i found your cam show." his voice is quiet, his brown eyes avoid eye contact, his lips uttered the words quickly and with much restraint in his throat. your own brain had stopped working, a million questions in your head and yet you couldn't make sense of one, and instead of asking him a simple, "what?" you were too stunned to properly engage.

jisung cleared his throat, looking up at you with those big, brown, tragically round eyes of his, "i watched your show." his voice was much clearer, still low in sound and barely resisting the urge to mutter it as if it were a curse. although being undeniably embarrassed, you weren't ashamed nor upset with him. "so.. do you not wanna hang out with me anymore?" you felt your voice falter, catching on your emotions.

"what? no! no, not at all!" jisung all but exploded, eyes widening and enunciating every syllable, "i'm sorry, i really am. i just felt a bit awkward because you didn't know and i didn't even realise it was you until it ended — i only figured out it was you from your voice — i swear i am not a creep."

to lighten the mood, you lean into his bubble and mutter into his ear, "how was i?" and the proximity allows you to hear how his breath hitches and how the apples of his cheeks redden as he chuckles.

the both of you finish work and clock out together, and you cant help but notice how jisung hangs around his car, his eyes on you the entire time. "hey, listen, i could give you a ride home if you're up for it?" it's evident in his voice that he's not entirely ready for you to leave his company, and it's always a pleasure to spend time with him. when he starts driving to your residence it's like his brain is on autopilot: he doesn't ask for directions and he doesn't even ask you to clarify where he's going, despite only driving to your home a handful of times. he's attentive — you'll give him that. the palm of jisung's hand rests comfortably on your thigh, his warmth reaching your bare skin as your skirt rides up to make room for his hand, cupping the flesh of your thigh and affectionately squeezing it every so often, usually when you shifted in your seat to satiate the throbbing between your legs.

throughout the car ride, jisung makes little effort to engage in conversation with you. he barely looks at you, his gaze completely fixed onto the roads even when the car had stopped at a traffic light. it worries you — and you start to consider the possibility that he lied about being okay with your side business, or worse; he lied about your relationship still being the same, if there was any relationship left, that is. with a heavy heart and your mind screaming at you to not go through with your idea, you place the palm of your hand above his, completely enveloping his warmth. he's soft, his skin a tanned bronze and easy to caress: and you almost fall into that trap.

"you can tell me, if it's weird for you." you didn't want to hear how little jisung thought of you, but deep down, you knew he had the right to stay away from you if he felt that was best. you just hoped he didn't feel that way.

the first sign you get from him is a sigh, light and airy and the bridging the space between the both of you to his thoughts. "i know we're just coworkers, but, i really like you." jisung cleared his throat, your gaze catching his brown eyes for a moment. but, in that brief period of time, his dark, sharp, soft eyes — paradoxical, yes, — enchant you and whisper every nothing directly into your aching heart.

"and, if you're up for it, i wanted to.." he paused, trying to choose the right words as he drummed his fingers on the wheel, "to.. try it?" he looked at you for validation. "try what?" you turned to the side to watch him properly. as the car started moving again, it took jisung longer to find the words in his throat. "to be on your show."

you knew he pulled onto your driveway, you knew the comforts of your home were waiting for you, and you especially knew this was new territory that you weren't at all sure of how to navigate. regardless, you knew the thrumming in your chest was your heart beginning to flutter and you begin to grow addicted to the way jisung looks at you — it all ends in his eyes. life, death, rebirth, it's all the same to you when those round, furiously tormenting brown eyes stare at you as if you hung the stars from your mouth and let them slip from your tongue like honey. he's pure and he's rare and you fear you could shatter him with this dormant side of your life. but how enthralling that would be? to discover each other and touch him where your hands could never reach?

your fingers weave their way between jisung's, "okay. if you want to, i do, too." his eyebrows rise up in surprise and his pink lips part slightly. "i didn't expect you to answer so soon," you didn't expect to have an answer for him so soon, yet you found the words brimming the inside of your lips just as easily as you could think them.

you shrugged, "do you know when you'd want to..?" you trailed off, assuming jisung could fill in the blank, while he leaned closer to you and unbuckled your seatbelt, his hand deserting your thigh to unbuckle it and the other holding onto the buckle to avoid it colliding with you. from this position, you're taller than jisung, his head bowed down slightly, still momentarily focused on the seatbelt, and when he looks up at you, his lashes thick and his eyes round. the mesmerising, tragic witchery of his dark, onyx-like eyes haunt you so perfectly that you're unable to look away, hypnotised by the dusk night gleaming in his soft, doe eyes.

"how about now?" he murmured, and you're taken aback by his sudden forwardness. "now?" you echo, his dark hair following his head as he nods. "what's stopping us? what better time than now?" you hear the edge of desperation in his voice; he wants you as bad as you crave him, you're sure of it. his voice is low and rasp and slightly breathy, his words setting something ablaze deep within you and his smoky voice does little to quell the ashes igniting in the cage of your hips, and suddenly, all you can feel is that heat searing into your gut until it aches. your eyes flutter closed and you lean into jisung, his soft lips kissing your jaw; starting out timidly, but each press into your skin leaves him hungrier to taste you. his plump lips kiss your neck and he kisses the gasps that both start and end in your throat; he kisses them through your skin and you're sure he can feel when you swallow nervously.

your hands creep up into his hair before you can stop yourself, and like desperate, exploding stars, your eyes are immediately focused onto his, losing yourself into them as if you see something cosmically different each time. "you want to come inside, or stay in your car the whole time?" you tease, your lips curling into a pleased smile once you see jisung grin, his smile heart shaped and like every other part of him: hypnotic. "you know how to keep someone's attention," he muses, unbuckling his own seatbelt and turning away from you.

after a bit of ground-laying, and a short rehearsal which didn't even go all the way (which jisung insisted be done even more than you), the livestream is finally started.

people swarm into the show almost immediately, the comments moving so fast you can barely make out any coherent words behind your sex-blurred eyes. the tips are insanely generous — and you hadn't even gotten to any action yet. your audience hadn't seen you with a guest before, and despite you teasing it, you had never really intended to ask someone to join you.

all they get of you on their screen is your semi-naked body, your face obscured. jisung sits behind you on the bed, your back pressed firmly to his chest, in his lap. his hands slowly caress your sides, and your body is warmer than usual when he slips his hands into your inner thighs. the camera captures his soft fingers slipping into your underwear in high definition, the screen projecting a brightness your sensual lighting fails to — illuminating the way your knees want to connect like magnets as jisung's breath fans across the mouth-shaped circles of saliva on your neck.

you're pretty sure your soul levitates out of your body when he hums in your ear, his pink lips pressing kisses into your neck that you didn't realise you had been craving — and jisung scratched that itch just right. it was hypnotic and torturous at the same time. your hand fumbled for his, your fingernails digging into his tanned skin to anchor yourself before you reach delirium. and while jisung's index and middle finger circle your swelling clit under the fabric of your underwear, you realise with little to no effort that he touches you in a way you've never felt before. it leaves you carnally sinking into his swoon-worthy, tan build, the same way flesh knits together over a fatal wound.

he is your religion, and this feeling only intensifies as your back arches and your head lolls onto his shoulder the same way the brick of a cathedral is laid in an arch of brick. the most your frenzied audience gets of this is your chest trembling for breath and your hips rising and falling as jisung pulls his fingers away from your sex, glistening with his efforts and roping together in sticky strings.

you pull yourself off of his lap with shaking, trembling legs, and you stumble out of your panties as if you were drunk. maybe you were. you make eye contact with jisung, his brown eyes wide and lovely and deep inside of them you find the lover has replaced the coworker. his cheeks are beginning to flush and his lips start to swell, and he gives you a furiously charming smile that doubles as a smirk when you squint. the audience picks up on this chemistry, despite a large portion of it not being captured on camera.

crawling back onto the soft surface of the bed, you kiss and nip at jisung's neck, dragging your warm tongue over his collarbone. "take these off, ji," you whisper into his ear, careful to not let your viewers hear his name, your teeth grazing the shell of his ear as your hand groped the growing erection under his jeans. with the proximity, you heard the whimper jisung tried to swallow, his pinkish lips parted and his adam's apple bobbing.

you get comfortable in between jisung's bare legs, your hands resting atop his thighs, your nails grazing the exposed skin absentmindedly. the feeling of it melts the iron ball of anxiety in his gut, leaving only the torturous, blazing fire resting in his abdomen. jisung watched you with wide, long-lashed eyes, curiosity and that intoxicating lust-filled look shone down on you like a blessing. claim me, his eyes said, while the peverted grin on his face said temptress.

excitement burned between your legs, chaining you and influencing you. all your reserve was shredding away, your mind foggy and your body yearning, and weeping. you sank into his lap like a priest at a sermon, all devotion and no defiance. carefully, you introduced his cock to the velvety heat of your mouth, your hands guiding the weight of his cock to sit above your wet tongue. slow and experimentally, you sucked and licked his leaking head, just enough to get a taste of his rich, salty precum. it was enough to wet his cock and you slipped more of him into your mouth, greedily chocking down each morsel of jisung's cock. jisung fought to strangle down a single, pornographic whining mewl that sounded so unbelievably filthy that you couldn't help but smile onto his length. it must have looked obscene, or animalistic: your lips in a puffy wet ring around jisung's cock, your half-lidded gaze and your hands sprawled out onto the inside of his thighs and grabbing pathetically at the base of his cock.

all of your fantasies are given to your audience for just a moment. you hollowed out your cheeks and nuzzled his cock further into your warm mouth until his hard, velvety head prodded at your throat and just barely obscured your breath. jisung's sob died with his own breath, his hips rolling into your mouth and his cock twitching. your legs twisted like a sunflower facing the sun in an attempt to stimulate your own sex.

cautiously, you try a few slow bobs on his tastefully sweet length, his precum mixed with your drool coated his entire cock, and clung to your lips like webs. it was sticky and warm and it got between your hands and his base. you found a slow rhythm, tracing the veins on the underside of jisung's cock with your tongue, despite wanting so desperately to feel them somewhere else. you're almost certain that the microphone can pick up the filthy sounds of liquid sloshing around in your mouth and throat. you can hear it echo in your own head as your tongue traces his tip in circular motions. jisung's eyes squeeze shut, and his hands creep into your hair and appreciatively stroke your hair.

the pop of your mouth slipping off of jisung's aching cock almost bounced off of the walls. "i love doing this for you." your voice was low, not daring to let it venture past the bubble you and jisung have created around you. the image of him above you, his doe-eyed look spoke to you as if you were both lips to lips. his heart shaped lips were parted, half from mind-numbing pleasure, and the other from the soul soothing feeling of emotional intimacy. softly, your lips pucker and gently kiss jisung's swollen tip, softly insisting it be drenched in your love.

like the calm waves of the september sea, your hand falls into a pleasing rhythm which strokes jisung's cock so attentively that he revels in it, and in his mind he's sure he's going to re-watch this video over and over, until the entire feat is committed to memory. you rise and let jisung bring you into a kiss; your swollen lips glide over each other smoothly, pressing together with bruising mouths and bitten hearts, yearning for the other. jisung slides and scrapes his palms up your back as you kiss, soaking up every inch of your vulnerable, naked skin that he's allowed. you feel the smirk jisung makes through the kiss, and you realise he's taunting your viewers. he's telling them — daring them to touch you the way he can.

jisung kissed you so intensely that you can't even remember when he unclasped your bra, opening you up fully and laying you out like a delicacy made to be ravaged and worshipped all at the same time. when your clothes are nothing but a memory, jisung uses his teeth to appreciatively roll your top lip that was caught between both of his lips before pulling you off of his mouth.

you're grateful for this; you couldn't muster the inner strength to part from him yourself, but yet you couldn't even stomach being away from his cock for so long. you dipped back down eagerly to whirl your warm tongue around his heavy, leaking head. the corruption, the depravity for jisung always starts with the mouth, the tongue — the sheer, unfiltered wanting that leaves you so desperate that nothing else but him could even begin to be satisfactory.

he sunk down into you, swaying into your warmth and your efficiency. jisung worked his nimble fingers into your mussed hair, groping handfuls and tugging at the crown of your head. he pulled so tautly that it made your head burn, and burn it did; as well as ache. but it and everything else went unnoticed when compared to jisung's mouth watering cock rolling and gliding into your wet mouth. "y'look so pretty, angel, so pretty like this, fuck..."

dear god that's good. that's perfect, you realise. your free hand finds his in a daze, and yours clings onto jisung's so tightly that you feel his hard, unmoving knuckles press firmly into the soft, wavering pads of your fingers. you choke down the rest of jisung's cock in appreciation, your sex slicked lips slotted perfectly against his hilt, sealing and suckling him so that he was even closer to becoming undone by your mouth that evidently wanted nothing more than to be full with his rich, intoxicating taste. you traced the seam of his head, the natural crease in his velvet smooth tip where his body rewarded your efforts, sucking and savouring the taste of him.

jisung had already given himself up to the pleasure — he had already surrendered himself to you. his pelvis seared into your mouth, and jisung cried, a smooth and guttural noise that left goosebumps on your skin and your cunt aching. jisung rocked into you desperately, chasing the unfathomable pleasure you threw yourself into making for him. the sheer neediness of the act set another wave of lust and heat and dazed love to run its course through your naked body, still snug between jisung's legs.

the pull to jisung was buried deep within your skin which seared at his sounds, the heavy gravity of his soul called to you so intensely that you have no choice but to believe there is no heaven waiting in the clouds; there is no paradiso that dante could ever write that could ever make you a worshipper of his work – for your paradiso, your paradise is here: tucked deep away from the world and instead melted and nursed by jisung. you had no choice but to let his praise fall to your ears and his hands grasp at every inch of you he can find with his doe eyes squeezed shut so tightly that it's almost as if he manages to caress your skin in the dark.

you knew jisung was close. you could see it on his face. the way his brows furrowed and his slightly curved nose scrunched up with his boyish smile, all pink and heart shaped. with determination, you relaxed your achingly sore jaw and pushed forward; you fully leaned into jisung’s lap, your nose dug bluntly into the tan skin atop his abs. you were met with two things: the burning intensity of chocking on a mouth-watering cock, and the soundless cry that sprang out from jisung as if he were a stray coil. somehow, his cries and groans and praises were harmonious, unlike his hands. one scrambled to grip your hair even tighter; as if his fingers would never untangle and he accepted his fate, his digits pushing and pulling your head as if you’d miraculously fuse together. while the hand that you held onto clung to you so tightly you could almost feel the pressure of the bones in your hand being pressed taut to themselves. all jisung could comprehend was the hot, impossibly soft, smooth pulse of your throat — it completely surrounded his sensitive, spent cock, swollen and leaking and twitching as it untangled itself and gave its all to you.

every inch of jisung’s pretty, swollen cock stuffed your throat so intensely it left you utterly crazed. you were half sure, that from the sheer stretch your body had to do to accommodate him, that the shape of his cock would be carved into your throat; you could feel every inch, vein and splutter of cum pulse and fade into your throat so deliciously that you’re unsure who is enjoying this more: you or jisung.

you were lost in the rich, salty taste of him. you were swallowed whole by the scent of his sweat mixing with his cologne — cedar wood, and cinnamon, and rosemary, and a note of sweetness perfectly crafted to leave you lost and shivering from the mere suggestion of his presence. but by far, the most rewarding part of devoting the best part of half an hour to sucking jisung off was most definitely his mouth. in true jisung han fashion, he was loud and didn’t know how – or when – to shut up. he purred and whined and gasped, filthily and innocently at the same time — he was a walking paradox. you felt the vibration of his voice through touching him. his eyes, solid and teary, looked at you, cock still stuffed in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and red and your lips in a puffed ring around his base, drool and cum spilling out from the corners of your mouth, and he looked at you with no emotion short of lovesick.

his taste conquered you, and yet something in you wanted more. you couldn't rest. you were so mindless — jisung sung your praises so tirelessly that it left you star-struck, a devoted believer of whatever profound subtleties hid between his pink, pillowy lips. amongst the general mind-whiting pleasure and delectable sounds that seemed to blur your surroundings, your chat was overflowing with comments. you're not sure that the donations in the corner have ever ceased coming.

it was with great difficulty, that you were able to pull yourself off of jisung's spent cock. your surroundings slipped back into place as you did so, your mind untangling itself and your lungs burning with every short, desperate breath you took.

long, thick ropes of jisung’s cum and your drool clung to your mouth, stretching thinner as the distance from his throbbing cock and your sore mouth grew. crudely, it snapped and fell between you, smearing and leaving a semi-opaque memento on jisung’s tasteful length.

you hadn’t planned to go all the way with him. for your first session with a guest, all the way felt like too much. but your chat and the tips begged for it — you had never seen such large numbers on a live video of yours before. you wouldn’t object to fully fucking jisung, either. he was enigmatic in his movements, melodic in his noises and dutiful in the way he touched you. the entirety of the night you spent with him so far was very much like a religious experience: clouds parting, sun shining and angels singing.

you settled on his thigh, both of your legs straddling one of his and unsubtly grinding your bare, aching slit up the length of his muscular, well-carved thigh. jisung’s tanned hands wrapped around your waist, pinky fingers following the swells of your hips, and giving you that much needed stability to fall onto a rhythmic pace that only made you more obsessive over fully fucking jisung on camera. because even if you never get to do this again, you’re sure you would be able to feel the same way he makes you feel by watching the video again. you’re sure jisung’s touch would haunt you in ways no-one could ever fathom, or dream about. because if it feels that good kissing him until your head grows fuzzy, and if it feels that good sucking him off until your lungs burn, it must look even better — and you cannot imagine how it would look if jisung pinned your wrists and fucked you so terribly deep into your mattress that it felt as if he were using his hips to carve you into the bedding.

you wanted to immortalise this exchange. because dear god you might never have this opportunity again.

you kiss — and truly kiss. lips part and teeth clash, scalding tongue meets scalding tongue. your mouths trace each other’s and you feel as if you have become one elaborate person. jisung touches you exactly where you need to be touched without even thinking it, and you moan when he does. it’s both remarkably intimate and terrifying. remarkable, because no-one has ever came close to making you feel this way; terribly because you’re certain no-one can ever make you feel like this again.

your body yearns for him in unfathomable ways, terribly and deeply. you notice that jisung has a way — a talent, even, of simultaneously melting and setting ablaze every part of you. it is maddening and addictive at the same time. jisung put your roaming, explorative hands atop his shoulders, letting you anchor yourself onto him. your fingernails dug into his shoulder blades; your hands wanted to claw themselves into the muscle of jisung's tanned, broad shoulders. you wanted to pry him open and read all his secrets.

you feel jisung's wet cock press against the outside of your thigh, tender and persistent. your sex aches with the weight of an unshed orgasm — all consuming and begging to be released. your body leans into jisung's, your mouth finding the shell of his red flushed ear, your eyes catching on the way he grinned sinfully and leaned his body closer to yours. your teeth graze jisung's skin, your wet tongue prods his jawline, and your mouth scatters all over his neck, leaving no inch of his skin un-worshiped.

his lap is slick with your arousal, your hips rocking yourself onto the hard muscle of his thigh until the movement becomes automatic. your eyes gloss over you and jisung on the camera; his hands are mean in the way that they hold you. it's mean and possessive and his fingers are sure to leave bruises on your dirtily loved skin as he presses you into him as if he wants you to break.

from the proximity, you hear jisung's voice catch on a moan each time your hip bumps his swollen cock, his tip flushed a painful looking hue of pink and his length twitching and thrusting desperately just in case he manages to slide his cock over your sticky skin again. your forehead rests on his wide, steady shoulders and your fingers bury themselves into the curve of his bicep. your lips part to make way for your teeth, which dig into his soft, tan skin. your voice sinks into his body and your fervent mouth finds its home marking jisung's skin with your vicious, possessive love. your face is buried into the warm curve of jisung's neck and you hear how his husky sighs die in his thick throat, his heart shaped adam's apple betraying his otherwise impressive efforts of keeping his cool.

you're almost shocked at jisung. he walks around with an angelic presence, his innocent doe eyes and soft, cherub face is the picture of perfection. he's all softness, curves and sweet smiles. who knew he had a deep, piercing craving to be loved viciously and unforgettably?

your mouth releases jisung's sweat prickled skin with a pop, "no more," you gasp, the cage of your hips burning with filth and obscenity, your cunt still unclaimed by him and sobbing at that fact. "need you so fucking bad.." you let your teeth affectionately nip at his bruising skin. you let your voice fall quieter, "ji.. c'mon." you urge him, your hand falling to his cock and you push your palm against the underside of his sensitive cock, barely rubbing and yet applying so much pressure against his sweet spot that you feel his cock twitch as his hips thrust into your hand to chase your touch, infecting him with your pining for him.

before he gets the chance to flood your hand with his cum, you jerk your hand away and finally let the pads of your fingers sink into the slick, puffiness that is your neglected sex, your touch immediately onto your swollen clit. this time, jisung doesn't try hiding his sounds.

"fuck!" he draws out, almost growling in frustration, his eyes glaring at you. half-lidded and lust blown, brows furrowed and an unbelieving smirk all matched together on his face. all of it made you swoon. you are wicked, his poetically brown eyes say. jisung's groan replays itself in your mind, echoing and fuelling the desperate need for an orgasm in your body further.

jisung's hand finds a firm, cruel grip on your hip. they dig past the flesh and sit adjacent to your hipbone, guiding you off of his thigh while his other hand readies his cock, his hand wrapped around his base as he saws his searing head up and down your slick, ignored sex; it yanked a whine out of your throat when it caught on your puffed, tender clit.

jisung truly makes you suffer at his pretty hands. he lets you claw at his toned, muscular back — and he lets you sob and writhe in his lap, eager to sit on his cockmeat.

you needed his brutish grip on you to leave a bruise; you needed his touch to linger on your skin and you needed him to haunt you, in body and soul. you let his grip shape you into what he needs and you pray he can feel the agonising lust that gnaws through your skin, too.

the sight of his mean, thick cock torturing your raw sex looks better from above. you pity your audience: for all they see is a fixed angle. no video could ever do the feeling of han jisung's leaking cock deciding its invasion of your dripping, lustrously burning sex justice.

the room spins as you realise your positions have changed. your cheek is planted on the bed, head turned to the side to spot where jisung is via the camera. he looms over you, and it sends a genuine shiver down your spine. the most you can see of him; and by proxy, your audience, is a hard-edged jawline and scalding muscle that makes him look legendary. you're sure some wayward poet has written about him. jisung mirrors everything they stand for: strength, mystery and hypnotically good looks.

one of his hands wraps around your ankle, folding your leg in on itself, while the other prods at your wet, warm cunt. your head is dizzy as your sex flutters around his gentle touch — the pads of his fingers collect the slick pooling at your entrance and smear your slit, dragging it down until his fingers brush against your clit. you jerk at the sensation, cooling air on your searingly warm, throbbing cunt. jisung's middle finger finally, finally aides some relief to the white hot pain of neglect that burrows deep within your gut. experimentally, he lets his finger sink deeper into your sex until you feel the knuckles of his index and ring fingers prod at both sides of your cunt.

you struggle to catch your breath as you grow accustomed to the ascending feeling of having some part of jisung as close as you crave it. you tremble and sob into the mattress when he slips his finger out of you and into his mouth, it's audibly vulgar and he's audibly enjoying it. your fingers curl into the sheets and you let out a needy, impatient whine to urge him to touch you once more.

it's surprising when you feel jisung cup the curve of your ass and the swell of your hip in one greedy handful, and slides you onto his hard, delicious cock that soaks up every feeling of loneliness and neglect that was once nestled deep within your sex. the moan that spills out of you pours into the air, your lungs already taking a breathless gulp of air as you cry and wriggle under jisung's grip, your back arching in a desperate attempt to meet his cruelly slow pace. his touch burns into your skin that it's almost archaic. it sends you into a furore of passion, and even sex-mad you think jisung to be lovely. even as he beds you, and rolls his hips deliciously into the globe of your ass and brushes his cock head against your silky warm sex, you still swoon over the way he coos praise at you and lets breathless sighs flutter out from his heart shaped, pink lips.

slowly but surely, like a newborn calf gaining its balance, jisung sheds his coyness. he fucks you, truly fucks you, your arms pinned by him and therefore unable to escape him, and the force of his thrusts scratches that itch inside of you just right. the camera captures your body following the momentum of his thrusts and the way jisung's head tilts back, his throat exposed and his cock quickly gaining both speed and force to bully itself inside of your cunt, sculpting his hips against your skin. you want him to touch you until his palms burn, you want to be tangled and pressed against him so tightly that you cannot remember the feeling of want.

the rippling squeeze of you around him is too good to be real, jisung decides. he's sure he has made you up in a dream. his hand dips under your shoulders to hoist you up, your back arched and your head, like his, tilted back. "y'fuck me so well," you mutter out, your voice raspy from the never-ending onslaught of whimpers and moans and cries. "gonna come, ji." you grin, eyes fluttering closed and lips parting, brows furrowing as you lose yourself in the heavenly sensations jisung generously bestows upon you.

jisung, so mesmerised by the show you've put on for him, cups the dip of your back, nestles his face in the side of your neck and just loses it. his cock is so deep inside of your cunt that you're sure you can never be un-loved by him. the donations and comments flood in, making the need, the chase: the rush to finish come faster and faster. knowing thousands of people were mesmerised by you and jisung that it made his ego swell — and his thrusts adapt to an even more frenzied, brutal pace. you're unsure how you're able to keep up with his energy. jisung's libido is truly all consuming; he had your breasts bouncing and your moans stuttering with each dig of his swollen tip into your hot, drooling cunt.

your sweat tacked skin sticks to jisung: even your bodies were in agreement when your minds thought you wanted to fade into each other. and yet, you were each other's to tame. no part of you was free from jisung. he had claimed every inch of you, body and soul, you were bewitched by him.

you crumble onto him, your vision so blurred you can barely make out the fuzzy sight of the camera repeating the view of jisung fucking you. regardless, it shakes and trembles from the force used by jisung to fuck himself into your sex. the hot, wet silk of your cunt clamps around jisung in quick, frantic bursts of energy, and you sob through your entire orgasm. jisung kisses the edge of your jaw and strokes your side, all the while maintaining his brutally needy pace that made a mess of the both of you, your cum oozing out of him in episodes, and settling in a ring around the base of jisung's cock.

neither of you are sure this feeling can be achieved on earth, and as jisung's thighs finally tense and his hips stutter and a searing heat spreads throughout his body, you're sure you hear his body weep i love you, i love you, i love you, over and over until jisung's chest heaves with breath and your ears stop ringing.

as the both of you regain yourselves in waves, you realise the camera is still recording. you dutifully thank everyone for the tips, comments and for tuning in, and quickly end the session without a second thought.

jisung's eyes search yours for confirmation, and when you nod, his lips morph into a shy grin, his cheeks rosy and his skin shiny from his efforts. both of his hands cup your cheeks, his warmth seeps into your hazy, obsessive mind through the palms of his hands, and with as much tenderness one would summon to cradle a tiny, flushed baby, jisung presses his soft, soft lips onto yours.

with a hum of approval, he parts, and you're once more face to face with his big, round brown eyes, that holds everything your soul yearns for. "i have a free day next thursday. part two? we could spend the whole day planning..."

[the-phantom-author]

Hasan Piker | Stream Appearance headcanons

I'm in so much pain rn it's not even funny, imma take some pain killer and sleep. Reblogs always welcomed. Request are open!

Partner streams with Hasan are very chaotic in general. However nothing would truely match the partner reveal twitch stream I imagine the stream would have “Secret special guest” or something in the title. I would start out as a normal stream, personal life, politics, and so on until it's about 2-3pm. The entire time He’d be staying that there is someone coming later, and they need to be on their best behavior . When talking about his personal life at the start of the stream he’d mention that his partner is staying over and swiftly moving on, not an uncommon thing for him to do, so nothing was really thought of.

When you show up, he introduces you by saying “Chat, introducing to you, for the first time on any platform, my partner.” Queue chat losing their collective mind, and starting to ask any and all questions they can think of. He’s incredibly watchful of chat during this time, and instantly banning anyone who sends a chat saying or implying something rude about you. This is also followed by the obligatory Joe Rogan video that he makes girls watch when they first appear on stream.

After the reveal stream I can imagine you becoming a recurring person, mostly tiny cameos. Like, every so often your hand will pop into frame to hand him something, water or food. It always causes him to stop what he’s in the middle of doing at that moment and thank you, he could be knee deep in a 10 minute stun lock and just have to hand him a water bottle and he’ll come to a full stop until you leave the room at which point he’ll pick his little rant back up.

I can also see stream bits that include you. Painting streams (more on that later), movie reviews, true crime, and other react andy things are not uncommon things for you to be on stream for. For example he would let you just rant about any movie you’ve watched, recently or not, for like thirty minutes. Like, yes girl, explain Tinkerbell and the Great Fairy Rescue to chat, they’ll love it.

Or he’ll get you to watch older reality TV shows, and videos that pertain to your interest. You know these J-Aubery mini-docs that he’ll watch, he’ll also get you to watch them. Anytime something comes up that you don’t understand, he’ll make sure to pause it so he can explain it to you until you do. If you are watching something and he doesn’t get it but you do, he does expect you to explain it. Sometimes he’ll have you explain things to him on stream just because he likes to show off how smart you are to chat.

Sometimes when you go to give Kaya some pats, you hover in the background. Mainly when you're interested in what he is watching/doing or when you’re trying to figure out just what he’s going off about, I can only imagine how confusing it must be to walk into the middle of him being stunlocked by some chatter.

He will absolutely make fun of how short you are, no matter your actual height, because man is built like a brick house and everyone is smaller than him.

I almost forgot about IRL streams. Please find a way to go on any and all IRL streams with him. Especially if it’s some kind of shopping stream. Take every chance you can to fix his fashion sense, it’ll never take but you should still try.

He’d also take you to Shitcamp and the Streamer Awards. I know they are not his live streams but he likes you being there. You’re not really a contestant or anything, but you take part in certain games and activities. Chat loves seeing you in the background, not really participating but still being iconic.

[ninii-winchester]

Unveiled Sorrows (Part 9)

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester X Reader (platonic)

Word count: 4k

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, mentions of sex, Taylor Swift reference (?)

A/n : This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

The drive back home was quiet. Dean was apprehensive about going back to the house but Y/n had put her foot down and told him she'd spend the night in the car than let Adeline anywhere near Samuel. She didn't trust him anymore.

"Uhm I only have one guest bedroom." Y/n said entering the house. Sam and Dean trailing in behind her.

"I'll stay here." Sam said pointing to couch on the living room. "The doors broken and I'm not sleepy anyway."

"I don't need the room either." Dean said looking at Adeline. "I'll grab a chair for your room. I need to make sure you two are safe." Y/n didn't argue. She was too tired.

"Can you watch her while I clean up?" She asked Dean who nodded taking Adeline from her arms. The little baby was already off to dreamland.

The two brothers sat beside each other, Dean was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Sam got up and grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge handing one to his brother.

"We need to talk." Sam said sitting back down. Dean looked at his brother wondering what he wants. "What more do you need to make up your mind?" Sam asked his older brother. He seemed angry.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Dean said making Sam want to punch his face.

"I could punch you right now." Sam glared at him.

Dean's phone rang in his pocket and he tried to fish it out from his pocket so the ringing doesn't wake Addy. He pulled out his phone saw the caller ID.

"It's Lisa, could you hold her for me?" Sam rolled his eyes and took his niece from him. Dean walked a few steps away and then answered the phone.

"Hey, uh everything okay?"

"You tell me, Dean, are you okay? You said you'd be back by morning." Lisa asked softly.

"Yeah we uh... kinda ran into trouble." Dean replied vaguely.

"Are you okay? Who's we?" Lisa was worried.

"Me, Sam, Y/n and Adeline."

"Y/n and Adeline? Are they okay? What happened?"

"They're okay...now. Sam and I we got here in time."

"Dean." Lisa sighed.

"What?"

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

"Yeah I'm aware but it'd be nice if you'd elaborate." He chuckled.

"You're being an idiot, you're suffering and you're making them suffer. They're your family, they need you. And you need them just as much."

"Lisa.." Dean started but she interrupted him

"Dean, Adeline needs her father, i know how y/n feels, its hard watching your child grow up without a father, nobody would know better than me." She spoke softly as if talking to a child. "Think about Addy, Dean. It'll scar her for life knowing her father didn't choose her, when he clearly had a choice." Dean turned and watched his daughter sleeping in his brother's arms. The line went silent for a few seconds when she called his name.

"Yeah I hear ya."

"Think about Y/n, she loves you, you're crazy about her. I know what you're doing, Dean. You're deflecting, running away. It's not going to get you anywhere." Dean sighed knowing she's right. "Ben and I are safe Dean. You made us move, we started a new life, we're happy. its about time you do the same. Chase your happiness."

"You're right I guess." Dean let out a breath. "I don't know what to say."

"You could say thanks." He could hear the smile in her in her tone. "And do all of us a favour and stay there."

"Yeah, thanks Lisa." He smiled and hung up.

He walked back towards Sam, and huffed while plopping down beside him.

"What's up?"

"Uh Lisa kinda kicked me out." Sam gave him a bitch face which clearly said, im-not-in-the-mood-for-your-shit. "Well she told me I'm an idiot who's making everyone's life miserable."

"I'm not sure she said that but I totally agree with her." Sam replied.

Before Dean could reply Y/n emerged from the hallway into the living room, she looked fresh but tired. Her hair was wet and she was wearing a loose t shirt and some shorts.

"I'll take her." She said gesturing towards Adeline. "Sam, some of your clothes are in the guest bedroom, you can freshen up." The aforementioned man nodded and looked at his brother with a we'll-talk-later look. She watched Sam leave and turned to Dean. "You can use my bathroom, if you want. I'll order something."

"I'll wait till Sam comes back. Not leaving you here alone." Dean replied watching her as she ordered food.

After Sam came back, Dean went to shower, he didn't have his clothes with him so he had to make good with Sam's clothes. Which were a bit oversized for him. After dinner Sam promised he'd clean up and insisted Y/n retire to her room. Adeline was sleeping soundly in her crib.

"I'll be there in a minute." Dean called out behind her, feeing the need to reassure her. God knows she needs it. She nodded and left wordlessly.

"So what exactly did Lisa say?" Dean filled Sam in with conversation he had with Lisa earlier.

"I don't know how someone like you ends up bagging such wise women." Sam wondered out loud. Dean glared at his younger brother but didn't comment on it. "So what you gonna do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"You want to me to go in there and tell her that the woman I lived with kicked me out so I need her back?" Sam swore he could throttle his brother and he even moved his hands to wrap around his neck but stopped himself.

"Is that how it is?" Sam asked and Dean immediately shook his head. "Then her exactly how it is! You idiot." Sam rubbed his hand over his face. His brother might be a genius when it comes to monsters but he's a nutjob when it comes to feelings.

Y/n watched Dean's silhouette enter the room and drag a chair beside the bed. It was completely dark except for the moonlight peeking in through the window.

"You really don't have to." Her voice quiet in the dark, he stopped his actions as he heard her voice. "That chair would be uncomfortable. Get in the bed."

Dean didn't say anything but got under the covers beside her. Ten minutes passed in silence and again Y/n spoke up,

"Dean I'm trying to sleep." He looked at her in confusion.

"I'm not even doing anything." He replied.

"The cogs in your brain are too damn loud. Stop thinking." Y/n murmured. Dean sighed shifting on the bed. "Talk to me." She said propping her head on her elbow.

"It's.."

"Nothing." She completed. "I've heard that before." He peered up at her face, her expressions unreadable.

"I don't know where to start." Dean said staring at the ceiling.

"Whatever comes to mind." Dean took a deep breath before he spoke.

"I'm sorry." His eyes flickered to her face. She was patiently waiting for him to continue. "I am so sorry for being a mess. I..I ruined us, I was a coward. I'm sorry for hurting you. I know keep saying that, I keep trying to push you away because i want to you to be safe. I hate that I couldn't protect you or Addy." Dean felt himself tearing up.

"Dean, you keep pushing us away, why do you think its the only way? Maybe if you hadn't left we could've been safe. You could've protected us. You can't keep assuming you being with us is a bad thing unless you try, how bad could it actually be? I don't think anything could be worse than what happened today."

"I know that now, I just love you so much. I know I don't deserve to ask anything from you but if you could give me another chance, I'll spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you."

"What about-"

"They'll be fine." Dean answered before she could even ask. "I am done running, I want to own up to my mistakes. I wanna be with you, and Adeline, where ever you two are. I want to save you, from every bad thing out there."

"Dean, you don't need to save me," she whispered looking at him. "But would you run away with me?" She grinned at him. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

He smiled at her. "We could do whatever you want, I'm okay with everything as long as you're mine. We could take it slow if you want."

"We've already wasted so much time. I don't want to take it slow. I know you're it for me." His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips. He pressed his lips against hers, they just as soft as he remembered. Their lips clashed against each other, tongues fighting for dominance. She pushed herself up to straddle his waist but he pushed her back on the bed, hovering above her.

"As much as I want to," he breathed heavily. "You're hurt."

"Dean."

"Baby no. I promise I'll give you whatever you want but just heal for me first." She nodded and he pecked her lips laying beside her. "Sleep now." He placed a kiss on her forehead.

The events of the day finally caught up to her and she was drifting into deep slumber. The next morning she woke up she half expected the bed to be empty but when she opened her eyes, she was met with bright green eyes already looking at her.

"Good morning." Dean smiled.

"Morning." She snuggled closer to him. She was more relieved than she'd like to admit.

"You sleep good?" She hummed in response wrapping her arms around his torso. He chuckled pulling her closer.  It was suspiciously quiet and Y/n wondered how Addy hadn't woken up yet or in the middle of the night. She shot up her position on the bed and winced when she felt pressure on her stitches.

"Hey what's wrong?" Dean asked. She didn't answer and walked towards the crib which was empty.

"Dean, Addy." She gasped, tears brimming her eyes.

"Baby calm down, Sam has her." Dean told her and she walked out of the room sighing in relief when she saw her daughter sitting on Sam's chest and slapping his face with quite force if she may say so. "See she's okay." Dean said wrapping his arms around her from behind. She nodded relaxing in his arms. She turned her face to kiss him and he didn't hesitate to kiss back.

"Are you two always going to be this gross from now on?" Sam's voice made them pull away.

"Yes." Y/n replied.

"I'll go make breakfast." Dean said walking into the kitchen but Y/n pulled him back and kissed him, tongue and all. Sam made puking noises. They pulled away and Y/n smirked at Sam and he rolled his eyes at her.

"I think Addy and I should go to the park. I don't want to sit here and watch cheap porno." Sam sassed.

"Aren't you brutal these days, Sammy." Y/n pouted at her best friend.

"He actually is." Dean yelled from the kitchen.

"What so now you two are going to gang up on me?" Sam scoffed playfully.

"No, but Sam something is weird about you. And no I'm not talking about your height." Y/n replied with a smirk.

"Try being surrounded by dumbasses all the time." Sam retorted. "I am just tired." He rubbed his face, still holding Adeline firmly. "Do me a favour and pack your stuff." Sam added.

"What for?"

"You're not staying here, not anymore." Dean said coming out of the kitchen. "Breakfast's ready."

The three of them walked inside the kitchen where Dean has sit up food on the counter. Coffee, waffles and eggs. Sam poured himself as cup of coffee, Adeline still in arms who was now biting and drooling over his shoulder.

"And who decided that?" Y/n asked taking a sip of her coffee.

"We did." Sam shrugged.

"Sam we've had this conversation before, I told you Addy isn't going to grow up in this life. I want her to be normal. I am out for good." Y/n said with a scowl on her face.

"And that's how it's going to be." Dean replied. "Just not here, we'll find a new place for us. You're out and no one's dragging you back, I promise." He added softly.

"I liked this place." She pouted. Dean let out a laugh and kissed her pouty lips.

"We'll find an even better place, okay?"

"One moment of peace." Sam hissed. "Is all I ask for."

"Suck it up, buttercup." Y/n teased.

"Cmon Addy, let's go somewhere we're loved." Sam said to the baby who just stared at her uncle.

"Aye gigantor, give me my baby." She said making grabby hands towards him. He rolled his eyes but place Addy in her arms nonetheless.

"By the way... I forgot to ask." Sam started. "Why were you half naked when we found you?"

Y/n choked on her waffle and avoided looking at either of the men.

"You okay?" Dean asked handing her a glass of water. She took it gratefully and nodded. Sam raised his brow at her and she wanted to murder him right there.

"Uhm you see the moment he came here I knew he was a shifter."

"How?" Dean asked.

"Because he came in as Sam and i had just gotten of the phone with him and Sam told me there's shifter in town collecting his babies." Y/n replied making the other to nod, urging her to go on. "I assumed he didn't know the relationship between us, he just came here because he saw you coming here so I thought..." she trailed off awkwardly.

"You thought that you'd seduce him." Sam replied with a grin, ready to tease the wits out of her. She glared at him in return.

"Hey, not my fault the XY chromosome is stupid like that, be it a monster or human. I took my top off he got distracted enough for me to stab him." Y/n replied defensively. The two men laughed at her words.

"That might actually be true." Dean added shaking his head.

After breakfast the three of them packed all of y/n and Adeline's things and stuffed it into Sam's car. They had Sam run to store and get a carseat for Adeline since y/n didn't have a car and never needed one. After strapping in they drove to their destination. But had to make a quick stop at Lisa's to get Dean's stuff and obviously his other other baby, The Impala. It was quick but a pleasant meeting.

"Oooh I missed baby." Y/n said walking over to the Impala and sitting in passenger's seat.

"Hm she missed you too." Dean replied getting behind the wheel after strapping in Adeline. "I've got three of my best girls here, aint I a lucky man?" Dean marvelled at the sight.

"Even after years, I'm still competing with a car." Y/n sighed playfully.

"There's competition, sweetheart." Dean looked at her lovingly. "No one can take baby's place." He added playfully.

"Dean Winchester, you're annoying" She swatted his arm lightly. He pulled her in a for a kiss.

"Don't worry baby you're my number one." He mumbled against her lips. The ringing of Dean's phone made them pull apart.

"Are you two done making out in the car because I'd like to get there before dark." Dean heard Sam's irritated voice from the phone. He just chuckled, hanging up he revved the engine to life and they drove off.

A knock of the door made Bobby look up from the book he was reading. He wasn't expecting anyone so he grabbed his gun before walking towards the door. He aimed the gun and then opened the door. He rolled his eyes and put the gun on the table beside the door. It was Sam and Dean.

The old man went back inside and the other two followed. Y/n was hidden behind their tall frames so he didn't see her. The three of them went inside. Dean carried the carseat in which Adeline was napping.

"So what do i owe this pleasur-" Bobby stopped mid sentence as he saw y/n, a few cuts and bruises littered over her face.

"Heya Bobby." She hugged the old man.

"What happened?" He asked and they filled him in. "All that happened and you couldn't give me a call?" He said frustratedly. "Are you three ever going to let me live peacefully.?"

"I don't think so, no." Y/n chuckled. Sam and Dean nodded their head along with her comment.

"Oh dear, you're the only sane person in this family." Bobby said picking Adeline from her car seat.

"Yeah just about until she doesn't start walking on her own." Dean smirked. "Insanity is in the genes, Bobby." He added sarcastically.

"Out of my sight." The old man replied.

"Don't worry about that, we'll go house hunting tomorrow." Y/n said excitedly.

"What you didn't learn your lesson this time?" Bobby asked rolling his eyes.

"All I want is Addy to grow up in a normal house and a normal life and that's not gonna happen in a house filled with guns and thousands of lore books." Y/n said exasperatedly, gesturing to all the books around her.

Nobody spoke after, an unsaid agreement was made. The next morning y/n and Dean went to look for available houses. They agreed to stay in Sioux Falls, Dean insisted it's safer to be close to Bobby's, just in case something happens when he's away.

"I can't believe it." Y/n whispered as she and Dean signed the lease of their new house.

"Can't believe what?" Dean asked.

"This, us, all of it." She replied looking around the house.

"I know baby, feels surreal." He walked towards her and kissed her. "But this is us, now."

"Yeah. You think Sam will like it? And Addy?" Y/n asked him with hopeful eyes.

"They'll love it." He wrapped an arm around her.

A month after moving in their new house, it was peaceful. This was the closest to being normal Dean felt. He was being the most amazing boyfriend to y/n and even better father to Adeline. One morning Dean decided to wake his girl with kisses and breakfast in bed, y/n groaned pushing him away.

"Five more minutes, D." She mumbled. He hovered above her and peppered her face with kisses. She blinked her eyes open. "I could get used to this sight." She smirked dragging her nails across his bare chest. He chuckled as she pulled him down and purred in his ear, "I think you owe me something, now that I'm completely healed." Dean let out a laugh and nipped at her jaw and dragged his nose along the column of her neck, leaving soft kisses.

"DEAN." Sam burst into the room and the older brother jumped off of the bed. Y/n was clothed but still pulled the covers to her chest.

"Sam what the fuck?" Dean growled at his brother.

"Uh I found a case.." Sam replied sheepishly.

"You found a case.." y/n drawled and her eyes landed on the clock beside her bed. "It's six in the morning." She groaned.

"Yeah I had a long night." Sam replied. "People are dropping like flies, Dean. We have to go." His words held urgency and Dean sighed.

"Can't you wait for like two hours or something?" Dean asked irritation lacing his voice.

"Dean people are dying in really weird ways." Sam pressed.

"You should go." Y/n spoke from the bed.

"Baby.."

"Dean.." He shrugged in defeat.

"Alright I'll meet you by the car in 20." Dean said to Sam who nodded and left the room.

"You go get ready and I'll check on Addy." Y/n got up and pecked his lips pushing him towards the bathroom. She walked to the crib placed in they their room, she still wasn't comfortable leaving Addy alone in the nursery. She watched her sleep peacefully. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist and she melted into the embrace.

"You've been staring at her for like ten minutes, it's creepy, sweetheart." Dean murmured in her ear.

"Shut up and get your ass moving." She replied playfully. "I wanna lock the door and sleep some more."

"Too eager to get rid of me?" He smirked.

As if sensing her father's departure little Adeline woke up from her slumber and started wailing loudly. Dean immediately picked up his baby in his arms and hushed her while gently rocking her. "Daddy's angel woke up to say bye huh?" That didn't make Adeline feel any better and Dean didn't feel like going anymore. "Awe baby I'm sorry." He cooed. "What do you say we let Uncle Sammy go on his own?" Dean suggested.

"Dean.." y/n said in reprimanding tone. "I know it's hard but we'll be here when you get back, yeah?"

"Yeah." He nodded and kissed Adeline's head. "Daddy's gonna be back before you know it, be good for mommy okay angel?" Y/n took Adeline from him and followed out to the door. Dean opened the door and turned around, "you be safe. Anything happens you call me or head to Bobby's okay?"

"Yes don't worry about us and focus on the job, don't die okay?"

With one last kiss, Dean walked out of the door. Y/n waved at Sam who was impatiently waiting by the car. She closed the door and double locked it once they drove off.

The day went by just as how it goes usually. It was around nine pm when Dean called her. She answered the phone almost immediately, eagerly wanting to know all about the hunt. As Dean filled her in with all the adventures the brother's went through, she listened eagerly. She missed hunting, she missed the the feeling of adrenaline pumping through her veins but all above that she loved Adeline. And she wouldn't risk anything happening to her.

"I'm just glad you two are okay and the hunt went well." Y/n said as Dean finished speaking.

"Yeah. Can't wait to be back with you and Addy." He replied. He paused for a minute he spoke again. "Thank you, Sweetheart."

"For what Dean?"

"For giving my dumbass another chance. For putting up with me over the years. For loving me. I can't ever make up to you for hurting you how I did but-"

"Dean, it's all in the past. I forgave you. Even if it may be a little selfish on my part but I want you. I've always wanted you. So just forget about it." Y/n replied, assuring him that they're way past whatever happened.

"I don't care if you're being selfish, or if you want to use me. Just know that I'm your problem now." Dean chuckled. "I'm at your disposal. I love you."

"No chick flick moments, De." Y/n giggled over the phone and Dean rolled his eyes at her even if she couldn't see. "But I love you too. And I miss you too much, so hurry your ass back home." Dean let out a laugh at her commanding tone.

“I’ll be home soon. You take care of yourself. Kiss Adeline goodnight for me.” Dean replied before hanging up.

Things have finally changed. For better.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@suckitands33

[risenwrites]

Warning: Angst, Blade is emotionally constipated, mentions of wanting to die

Blade could never understand why you were insistent about helping and knowing him. You shouldn't have even met him in the first place. This planet was supposed to be uninhabited, the perfect place for him to have undisturbed rest until his next mission.

Yet you were here.

When you found him, you dragged him to the pitiful excuse you called a home despite how many times he told you to go away. You bandaged the wounds he ignored, scolding him for not caring tending to them sooner. You spoke to him like an old friend, never noticing how he glared at you or didn't answer your questions. You gave him warm food and fresh water while calling him your guest. You were kind to him.

It was infuriating.

You were infuriating.

But for some reason, he still agreed to stay with you until his wounds healed. He wasn't sure why he decided to stay. Maybe it was because you reminded him of an old friend. That filled him with too many emotions he didn't want to feel, so he tried to distance himself from you. He tried to have you only interact with him whenever his bandages needed to be changed. His attempts always failed because you followed him around like a baby duckling.

Blade never spoke to you, but you always talked to him. You told him about your relatively uneventful life story. Apparently, you grew up on this planet alone, rarely getting visitors. That explained how you didn't know he was a wanted criminal. If you knew who he was, the life he lived, he was sure you'd be afraid of him. He was sure you would stop being kind to him. Deep down, he didn't want that.

The kindness you showed him was something he greedily consumed. It'd been so long since someone treated him like a person, only ever being seen as a monster or a weapon. He thought of himself as such and still did despite how much he craved the peace you gave him. Because deep down, he knew he didn't deserve your kindness because of all the sins he'd committed.

Blade never reciprocated the kindness you showed him. He treated you coldly, hoping you would stop trying to know him. That would stop giving him your love and charity. You never did, even after his injuries were completely healed and he planned to leave without saying goodbye. If he did, then maybe he would forget you, forget the love you so freely gave him. However, there was a question he wanted to ask.

"Why did you help me?" was the question he asked, the one tearing him mind apart.

When he asked that question, you looked at him with a big smile. "It's hard for me to turn a blind eye to someone in need. Plus... you seemed like you wanted to die. Seeing you like that had my heart aching. Maybe I'm arrogant, but I wanted to give you at least a little reason to live. Besides, spending time with another person is always wonderful; spending time with you made me happy. Even if you don't say much," you told him.

Your answer pierced through Blade's stone heart, making it gain the tiniest crack. You were too good for him. He didn't deserve to have the privilege of knowing you, yet at the same time, he hated you. All he wished for was to die and stop the endless cycle of eternal life he endured. Now, after knowing you, his conviction was wavering, and he was questioning what he wanted.

That's why he left your home without saying goodbye and returned to the life of a Stellaron Hunter. But in quiet moments, you would come to mind, and he would wonder if you finally learned to hate him after he broke your heart.

©following works belongs to risenwrites, do not repost, modify, plagiarize, translate, or share on other platforms. comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated!

[sleep-drunk-kitten]

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

pairing: enhypen x fem!reader, platonic!Sunoo, ft. Lee Felix and Han Jisung of Stray Kids and Choi Soobin of TXT as side characters

genre: crack, fluff, isekai!au, royalty!au

content warnings: the crown prince is a bit of a jerk, war and an absent father are mentioned in passing, other than that there's nothing I can really think of? but lmk if I missed anything!

word count: 3.9k

summary: upon meeting her betrothed and possible murderer for the first time... our protagonist finds herself sure of two things: 1) he's every bit the princely male lead of the novel she'd loved so much in her previous life and 2) he's actually a little insufferable.

notes: It's finally hereeeee!! I'm so sorry for making you all wait for this, but I'm slowly working my way out of that writing slump~ I'm not sure whether or not I like how this turned out, but I hope you guys can just overlook it and move on if it sucks 😭 (please, for my sake, do. I will literally cry if my anxiety's proven right rn-)

I will be making a taglist for this fic, so if you're interested in being added please either drop an ask or let me know in the comments

Everything after the cut IS proofread for once, but please feel free to let me know if any typos slipped through the cracks!

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“Nonono, the blue one was a million times better,” Sunoo said, pointedly ignoring the deathly glares of Felix, your head maid.

  “Maybe it would be if I were going out for an evening ball or something, but it's a bit much for seeing a guest over some tea,” you reply dismissively, inspecting the girl standing in the three large mirrors placed round the circular platform you’d been standing on for the past hour, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another as your maids brought dress after dress out from your closet and whisked you through trying them on one by one. 

  Sunoo rolled his eyes at the statement, marching towards your vanity and sifting through the jewelry scattered across it till he settled on a length of thin silk ribbons. “Babes, be real with me here, it's not just some tea party and you know it.”

  The three maids who'd been helping you into the layers of lace and silk that made up the soft buttercup yellow gown Felix had chosen stepped to the side to give Sunoo room on the platform behind you, having learned very early on that there was little to no point in trying to stop him. 

  Ribbon in hand, he began weaving the silky material through the hairstyle they'd arranged as neatly and prettily as possible, ignoring a pained noise from the one nearest him. “I mean, it's not every day your fiance comes all the way out to your family’s manor on the outskirts of the city to make sure the bride-to-be he doesn’t actually care about hasn't lost all her marbles.” 

  You didn’t understand how Sunoo managed to carry on chattering with their eyes boring holes into the back of his head, especially when their dirty looks were nothing compared to the expression on Felix’s face–his twitching left eye reminded you of a glitching video game character–but he did, carrying on as if it were just the two of you in the room.

  “Your Grace,” Felix’s voice was strained, “I really do wish you wouldn't say such things to her Highness.”

  “What? That her beloved fiance's come to see her?” Sunoo said, batting his eyes and pouting in mock innocence.

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Felix snapped back, eyes darting between his face and the silk in his hands. 

  “You know she doesn’t really care, right? Why would she care about that cold-hearted stone-faced bas-”

  “Sunoo!” you gasped, cutting him off by stomping on one of his fluffy house slippers with the toe of the wildly uncomfortable heel that had been forced onto your foot. You swear you see the corner of Felix’s lip twitch at the strangled noise your best friend makes. 

  “Ow ?! That was uncalled for- what’s with the look? Is anything I’m saying wrong?”

  “No, but you still shouldn’t be talking that way about a member of the royal family,” you reply with irritation, “you not liking him doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s the fucking prince now does it?”

  In your peripheral, the three maids shift uncomfortably, and Felix doesn’t even try to hide a long-suffering sigh, making a mental note to inform your tutor that your etiquette lessons still weren’t sticking the way they should. 

  Sunoo sees this, of course–grinning evilly at you. “It would seem that it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a princess either, Your Highness, better wash out that potty mouth of yours before your dearly betrothed arrives.”

  You nearly grab a handful of your skirts to give yourself enough mobility to kick him, but Felix launches himself in your direction before you have the chance, shoving Sunoo rather unceremoniously to one side and holding your wrists under the guise of guiding you off the platform. 

  “An excellent idea Your Grace, but I fear we have neither the time nor the soap for such an endeavor as m’lady’s presence is needed in the garden.”

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  It really was a scene straight from one of your romance manhwas; a neatly laid tea table under a pearly white gazebo, your gloved hand wrapped delicately round the gilded handle of a steaming cup of tea–the picture of perfection in your soft yellow dress that matched the white and yellow roses blooming in the bushes surrounding you perfectly. 

They filled the cool morning breeze with their sweet perfume, sending ripples across the clear blue lake so it glittered in the morning sun.

  It was beautiful.

  So beautiful. 

  And yet it still didn’t quite compare to the man sitting accross from you. 

  You’d read his description countless times. Everything from the plush curve of his lips to the sharp intensity held in his dark eyes… yet nothing could have prepared your heart for the sound of his laughter, carried to you over the foliage, the sight of those lips spread in an easy smile as he chatted with your brother, shoulders shaking with mirth.

  Nor, you think, could anything have braced you for the chill that would run down your spine when his smile dropped the second Soobin said his goodbyes, worriedly whispering a plea for you to ‘behave yourself’ as he kissed your cheek and left the two of you alone. Your chest constricting almost painfully when those same dark eyes that you’d squealed and giggled over late at night fixed on you, void of any emotion. 

  He'd stood from his place at the table to greet you, bowing formally in reply to the curtsy your poor tutor had drilled into your bones. 

  “(y/n).”

  “Your highness.”

  “You look to be in good health.”

  “I am, the family doctor and my handmaids have tended to me with so much care since the incident, recovering well is the very least I could do.”

  An awkward pause.

  “You seem to be in good health too, Your Highness.”

  You could’ve kicked yourself when the prince simply nodded and thanked you in return–a flash of something like recognition passing behind his eyes–before they went back to that easy, indifferent facade you supposed was crafted especially for Princess (y/n). ‘which makes sense,’ you mentally deadpan, ‘she was about as close to a crazy yandere psycho as you could get without actually killing anyone.’ 

  Still, those simple pleasantries, taken straight from the pages of volume two of your etiquette lessons, were the only words exchanged in greeting.

  It made even the silvery morning breeze feel stifling.

  Ever the gentleman, the prince pulled out your chair, made sure you were comfortable, and nodded once to your guard. “All is well with the knights of the (l/n) estate, Han?”

  The effort it took to refrain from snapping your head up and giving them both a confused once-over was monumental. It hadn't occurred to you that the crown prince would be familiar with any of your personal guards, though you supposed it made sense. Most of them had, according to Felix, been looking after you since you were only nine or ten, of course they'd be on friendly terms with your fiance.

  “We've been keeping busy, Your Highness,” Han said, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. Knowing him, he was probably rocking back and forth on his heels, hands clasped behind his back. 

  “That's good to hear,” the prince nodded, settling into the seat across from you, “I fear the royal knights have grown rather complacent since the relief and revelry that followed the war, it has been a task for General Jeong to whip them back into shape.” 

  “I can imagine,” Han chuckled. “But really, who could blame them, it’s taken us a long time to reach this peace, what good would it be if we didn’t take at least a moment here or there to enjoy it? As it is, I doubt we would have stayed so diligent if it weren’t for Her Grace, (y/n)’s been coming down to the training grounds and asking us to teach her some basic swordsmanship of late.” 

  While Han was probably puffing up his chest and beaming proudly over at the prince, thrilled to share the good news that you were finally taking your swordsmanship and safety more seriously, you were trying to avoid choking on air. 

  There were many things that you didn’t know about Princess (y/n) (l/n)–daughter of an esteemed archmage and revered general–but one of the things that had been emphasised enough in the novel enough for it to stick firmly in your mind was this: she was a frivolous, selfish, bitter disappointment to her bloodline. Squandering the skills she’d inherited from her mother to brew potions that only served her own selfish needs, and refusing to entertain the possibility that she could possibly take after the father she loathed for abandoning her to fight in the war . 

  She would never willingly break a sweat. 

  Especially for the sake of swinging around a big heavy old sword. 

  And it seemed the prince was thinking the same thing, his next words directed at you. “I didn’t know you’d developed an interest in adopting such strenuous hobbies.”

  “I… I suppose almost dying will do that to you.”

  “Indeed…” 

  There was a brief pause, in which the prince looked like he was contemplating the milky way while stirring a cube of sugar into his tea. Setting your nerves on edge as you wondered if now was a good time to bring up wanting to end your engagement, or if you should try and “ease into the subject more naturally” as your tutor had told you with his head in his hands, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of his eyes after witnessing just how “abrupt” your manner of speaking was.  

  You were still turning the words over in your mind when his voice cut through your thoughts, crisp and clipped despite the concern you guessed the inquiry was meant to show. “I was told that you were caught in a storm.” 

  “I was,” you nod with a bit too much enthusiasm, relieved to finally have an excuse to fill the silence. “I was told that I was on my way back from visiting a cousin who happened to be staying in town when a sudden storm hit us and knocked my carriage into a ravine-”

  “You were ‘told’ that you were on your way back from visiting a cousin? That fact doesn’t come from your own memory?”

  You blink, caught off guard by his interruption. ‘Isn’t that rude? Is he allowed to be rude because he’s a prince or because he’s my fiance? But wait he shouldn’t be rude either way? Ah screw it, being mad won’t help my case anyway so…’ 

  “Yes, I believe His Grace mentioned in his letter to the palace that the event and the fever that followed seems to have caused a condition the doctors refer to as temporary amnesia, my memories are only there in bits and pieces.”

  “Is this memory loss permanent?” 

  “No, we suspect I’ll start remembering things  little by little, a few are already coming back to me,” you say, one hand gripping the material of your skirt in an attempt to keep your voice pleasant and calm.

Sure, the prince didn’t like the princess much, but that didn’t mean he had to be a prick about it, he could afford to be nicer when he was asking questions about her literally forgetting her entire identity. If you didn’t know how awful she’d be a few years down the road, you would’ve found him insufferable. 

  “I see…” he said, still slowly stirring his tea.

  “What exactly do you see, Your Highness,” you smile a little tersely, bringing your own cup up to your lips, praying that the lipstick your maids had chosen was transfer-proof. 

  The prince raised an eyebrow at you, apparently picking up on the shift in your tone.  “Nothing… I’m simply intrigued by your sudden change in character, and the rather dramatic event that you claim caused it.” 

  It takes you a moment to process his words, and a moment more for agitation to prickle under your skin. ‘The fudge muffin does he mean claim?? I fell off a hill??? Hannie carried me back??? I was out of my mind for a week???’

  Reminding yourself over and over again that in his mind he was talking to someone who definitely wasn’t you, you press your lips into one of the polite, plastic smiles Sunoo had been practicing with you. “I apologise for not hitting my head on something less dramatic… I’ll be sure to aim for the carriage windows instead of massive tree branches if it would be more convenient for you… Your Highness.” 

  “What would have been more convenient for me, and all parties involved, would be your learning to heed warnings, and refrain from traipsing off into town when you know that the sky bodes ill,” he replied smoothly, ignoring the agitation in your voice. 

  “I’ll do my best to remember that then, Your Highness,” you say through gritted teeth, taking a fortifying sip of your rich floral tea, immediately wondering how the prince could possibly drink something so naturally sweet with even more sugar. 

  Your answer seemed to surprise him, another flash of… something crossing his features before it vanished just as quickly as the one before. 

  “Very well,” he nodded, bringing the sugary concoction he’d like to call tea to his lips, distracting you slightly with the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he drank. 

  ‘Oh he hates my guts but dear mother of cheesy romance he’s definitely this world’s male lead…’ you mused, shaking your head slightly to get yourself back on track. You were annoyed. Very annoyed. And the source of that annoyance was speaking to you again. 

  “I came here today to confirm for myself that you have indeed recovered fully, now that I’ve made sure of that there really is no reason for me to linger longer than necessary,” he said, setting down his cup with such practiced ease that it barely made a sound.

  Alarm buzzed under your skin, causing you set your own cup down with much less grace than intended, a sharp clinking noise ringing through the empty gardens. “I- oh shoot- Your Highness there’s actually something I need to discuss with you before-”

  “If it concerns the steadily growing pile of invitations and inquiries piling up on your writing desk we needn’t bother with any discussion,”  he said, cutting you off without missing a beat, already signalling to the guards–who’d moved away at some point to offer you both more privacy–indicating that he intended to stand and leave. "As long as you stick to the promise you just made to listen to your guards and His Grace, you’re allowed to attend and host as many gatherings as your heart desires, just know that I will not be able to accept any invitations, I am a busy man-”

  “Your Highness,” you all but snapped, lips pursed into a thin line, as if sealing them together would stop the flurry of expletives in your mouth from rolling off your tongue.

  “(y/n),” he said mildly, raising an eyebrow.

  “That is not what I wanted to discuss, but while we’re here, why the hell would I need your permission to attend any kind of gathering?”

  The prince blinked blankly, holding up a hand to signal both his and your guards to wait. “What are you on about (y/n)? You’re my fiance.”

  “Yes, exactly, fiance, and by arrangement, not by choice.”

  “I can’t say I follow your meaning, both these things are well established.”

  You swore your eyes nearly popped out of your skull with the effort it took not to roll them. “If I were your wife, or your partner by choice I would, to a certain degree, understand if you wanted me to give you a heads up before I go out-”

  “A head?...”

  “But I’m not, and at this rate I’m really not sure I want to be, I’m an individual totally separate from you, these are my decisions to make, you have no right to dictate my comings and goings… Your Highness.”

  The Prince went silent, watching you steadily, his calm an aggravating contrast to the tense knot of anger and anxiety lodged in your throat. ‘Oh… oh… I’m so sorry Mr. Park…’ you whisper a silent apology in your head and offer a few prayers for your tutor and the vein in his forehead’s good health.

  “What exactly do you mean by ‘at this rate I’m really not sure I want to be’, Princess.”

  The chill that runs down your spine when he uses your title instead of your name is immediate, your hands going slightly numb in the silken confines of your gloves.

“I mean that… that I don’t want to marry a complete stranger,” you manage, fumbling through whatever you could salvage from the script you and Sunoo had prepared. 

  “Is that what you'd call someone you’ve known since childhood?” he scoffed, the annoyance creasing his brows the most feeling he’d shown in response to you since his arrival. 

  “Well from the way you’ve spoken to me till now I can’t exactly consider you a friend now can I?” you seethe, regretting it almost instantly when his expression twists into something almost like hurt. You’re not sure why he made that face, but in a moment it’s gone, and no matter how it made you feel, you have a goal here. Not. Dying. 

  Which probably meant that pissing off the crown prince wasn’t the best idea. But oh well. 

  “I have no memory of you, Your Highness, as far as my mind is concerned, today is our first meeting… and from what I can see, the boy who’s meant to be my future husband sees me as either an object or a nuisance… I was hoping that meeting you would ease my mind about this whole engagement thing, but I’m sure now. I don’t want this.”

  The prince stared at you for a few moments, expression unreadable, and you guess that–aside from what you hope looks like defience and resolve–you look much the same. 

  When the world finally clicks back into motion, he nods once. “You do know that dissolving this agreement between our families is not something to be taken lightly? While our parents cannot force us into marriage, they will still try to convince us of our obligations.” 

  He looked up then, and something in his expression was different. It was still indifferent and unreadable as it had been, but there was a softness to it that you couldn’t quite place. It was confusing. “I understand, I know it won’t be easy, but this is my wish,” you say, relaxing slightly in your own seat. 

  “If that is what you want… I will speak to my father once things have settled down within the palace… I jest about the knights and their complacency, but the air is less than still, war is a messy business, and cleaning up the aftermath will take some time.”

  “I can wait… till next spring, but you must have asked him by then.”

  “I will,” he nods, “and I’ll write to you once it is done so you may speak with His Grace as well.”

  “Thank you… it’s appreciated…”

  You stay like that for a beat longer, staring at each other from across an intricately laid tea table, each of you wondering what the other must be thinking.

  “If that is all… I shall take my leave,” he says, breaking the odd trance. Standing, waves your guards over, and you take that as your cue to stand and curtsy as well. 

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Your Highness, the (l/n) family thanks you for your time.” 

  “Likewise,” he says, bowing. 

  Han and two other knights make their way over, wearing slightly troubled expressions, you guess they must’ve heard more than they were meant to. But it doesn’t matter, you think, eventually the news of the broken engagement would be the talk of the town, you shouldn’t be embarrassed about a few knights getting a preview. 

  “Before I go,” the prince says, “you should know that you never needed my permission for anything, (y/n). You may come and go as you please, you are an individual capable of thought and making her own decisions, as you say. However you must understand that to the public eye, you are the future crown princess, and that is not something to be taken lightly. It is my duty to do what I can to protect the royal family’s image, and having my fiance attend tea parties and balls when she is not in her right mind would have been foolish, to say the least.”

  He’s being earnest, you realise. Apologising in his own roundabout way. Maybe. Whatever it is, you choose to take it, knowing that beneath whatever dislike he may hold for the former princess, Park Jongseong was a good person. 

  “I… I’ll remember that in future…” you murmur.

  “Good… and one last thing.”

  “By all means.”

  “I know now that you have no memory of me, but you should know that you’ve never called me by my title.”

  “Oh?” to your memory, the princess had never called him anything but his title, he wouldn’t allow it. “Did I… call you by your given name?” 

  For the first time, he smiles at you, and you curse your heart for the way it flutters in your chest. “No, I don’t expect you to use it if it brings you discomfort, but the nickname you gave me when we were six was ‘Jay’, because you said I resembled a bird by the same name.”

  “A Blue jay?”

  “Yes, my hair was lighter then.”

  That confuses you slightly, his hair is black, as far as you can tell, but you ignore it, choosing to smile politely and nod along. “It must have been a very handsome bird.”

  “It was rather ugly, actually,” he says, walking down the gazebo steps to join his guards. “I bid you farewell, Princess, the royal family thanks you for your time.”

  “Likewise,” you respond, watching him as he goes. Noting with a hint of amusement that his hair shines blue in the now bright morning sun. 

  “What was all that about?” a voice says, and, predictably, Sunoo appears from one of the side paths. 

  “Were you listening the whole time?” 

  “Well I tried, but the fountain was too loud, only caught some yelling.”

  “Some guard you are,” you whine, smacking Han on the arm as he joins the two of you, “did you even realise a sneaky little rat was eavesdropping? 

  “Ow! For your information I did, but I figured there was no point chasing him round the gardens when I knew you’d be inviting that rat to tea anyways.”

  “That is very true,” you sigh, grabbing a plate and settling yourself across from Sunoo–who already had a mint chocolate chip cookie stuffed in his mouth. 

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  “(y/n)! Forget soap we’re gonna need bleach for that mouth tonight,” Sunoo cries, doubled over in a fit of giggles.

  “I knowwww,” you groan, massaging your temples. “Mr. Park’s gonna kill me.”

  Sunoo shakes his head. “You make the poor guy sound like an old man, you do realise he’s only our senior by about two years, right?”

  “He’s still my tutor! I’m trying to show some respect, as a thank you for how patient he is with my dumb ass.”

  “He deserves a raise,” Han chips in, settled on the marble gazebo rails with a plate of cheesecake in hand. 

  “He doessss,” Sunoo agrees, waving a teaspoon for emphasis.

  “You’re all really mean y’know,” you sigh, slumping over the table and grabbing one of Sunoo’s hands and moving it into the shape of a rabbit.

  “Not as mean as Sunghoon’s about to be when he sees your posture,” Sunoo says. 

  “What do you mea- Oh! Good morning Professor Park!”

[simp-ly-writes]

Just a Small Crush

Ask: is there anyway that I can get a Vox x Reader oneshot (from hazbin hotel ofc) where the reader Alastors sister but has a crush on Vox and secretly still hangs out with him and also gives him information of what’s going on at the hotel.

Pairing: Vox x Alastor Sister!Reader

Warnings: light teasing and brief mentions of death.

A/N: I LOVE THIS IDEA TYSM FOR THE ASK ANON!!!!!!

Masterlist | Taglist | un-edited.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

↳ You were Alastor's sister, having died a few years after he did you had come to terms with the changing of technology better than he did. Adapting to smart devices and social platforms with relative ease thanks to the help from a certain bright-eyed princess

↳ From this adaptability of yours you soon became the hotels advertisement manager, creating digital ads, short video skits with the guests and posting how-to-make drink recipes with Husk at the bar.

↳ Alastor smiled at this, seeing you so lively and back to your charismatic self that he thought to be forgotten after your sudden death at a young-age. Nevertheless he never became blinded by this happiness of his- often found glaring at the electronic device super-glued to your hands or the keyboard stuck to your fingers. But he would only make side snarky reminders about the time you came from and how you should still uphold your mannerisms

↳ Flashing a quick, bright smile towards your brother you skipped away, phone in hands as you brainstormed a new caption for the radio segment you just filmed together. Your heart races when the video goes green and hundreds of likes come flooding in alongside various comments of varying enthusiasm towards the content

↳ Shutting your phone off, you head to your room for a break, settling in your bed you flick on the newest episode of Late Nights with Vox. Having worked late last night on the editing of your new television advertisement- you had missed the live airing of the show

↳ "Welcome back everyone" Vox leans his head towards the camera hands behind his back as the camera pans backwards and exposes the wooden desk that he is stationed against. You watch as he leans back against the desk, watching as his suit distorts to capture his form as you rapidly scroll through Velvettes Hell-Page, looking for any other pictures of his new suit. "Tonight we some of only hells finest joining us for exclusive interviews alongside the first viewing of our latest Vox-Tech inventions you are sure to love!" A few cheers can be heard just as you clap your hands, immersed in the show and its presenter

↳ Swiping onto your personal account, you flick Velvette over a quick text- sending your praises for Vox's new suit just as you laugh in tune to the TV's cackles in response to Valentino crashing the set and announcing a new production as the show cuts to commercials. A ping of your notifications has you stopping your conversation with Velvette and transitioning over to other Vee as your hands being to sweat.

↳ Vox has texts you, "Hey!- a certain bird tells me you are enjoying the show?" You roll your eyes into a wide smile, he has been picking up on your expressions with all the recent time you had been spending together after-hours from both your jobs.

You: "You do well every night, I don't think you need me to add to your ego..."

Vox: "but you do. "

You: "?"

Vox: "Who else can say that they are friends the radio demons sister?"

You: "you out of all people better not be going around saying that! I do quite like you- wouldn't want my brother to spoil that by spilling your guts out on to the street if we found out."

Vox: "my lips are sealed then."

↳ A few moments pass before Vox texts again, "doing anything tonight?" your face goes red as your eyes flicker over the space, ensuring that you are in fact alone before you respond. "Nope, got all my work done, would you want to come around?"

↳ Your heart races, watching as the message bubbles bounce as you lay there in wait. But just before you can check the message, Vox has travelled through the electrical wires of the buildings sign and is sitting on your windowsill, taping on the glass for you to let him in

↳ A small scream escapes you, falling off your bed as you race over to usher him in. "So..." Vox starts to say, looking around your room before his eyes fall on to you, a smile expanding across his screen as he leans towards you, matching your height as you take a step back, looking for the remote to pause the television show in the background.

↳ "Watching me again?- why need the recording? I can always remake the scenes here for you, give you a synopsis if you will?" He asks, looking at his gloves before casting you a wink. He stands up straight, walking over to your desk before twirling around in your office chair as you sit on the edge of your bed, observing his actions

↳ "I like your suit." You blurt out, eyes going wide as hands cover your mouth in shock that you just admitted that to his face and not Velvette. Vox throws a hand to his knee, repiedidly slapping it with his laughs before he turns to face you once more. He stands, capturing your chin with his hand- ushering your eyes to meet his own. "No need to get embarrassed now, Velvette did a good deal of work on it- whats not to be admired?"

↳ Now scoffing and turning your head away with his ego flaring up once again. He drops his hand from your face as you let out a breath and listen up to what he has to say next, "Anything new to report on here?" You shake your head, unlocking your phone to show him the recent cocktail you and Husk invented, "Thats about it other than Charlie getting that meeting with Adam I told you about last week..." you trail off, breath hitching as you see footsteps from underneath the door

↳ You reach upwards, smacking a head over Vox's mouth. Failing to see as his screen flickers blue for a split second at the sudden touch. You sigh out in relief as the footsteps carry down the hall after a moment, dropping your hand and turning back to watch as Vox raises an eyebrow, "If you want me to shut up, just tell me or else I will think you just don't like me anymore" He states with a teasing smile, enjoying the way your face fires up as you flip him the finger

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @amarokofficial

[dandp]

Other assorted philm club notes:

The difference in fan interactions then vs now is so interesting. The "I want to marry you" to "you and Dan are so married" pipeline (not that we still don't comment about wanting to marry them but the intent is so different)

It always surprises me how short of a time they stayed in the Manchester apartment for how big of a location it feels like in dnp lore. Probably mostly to do with the mythos of the breakfast bar lol

God it must've been awful having this platform and scrutiny and talking about this London move while grappling with and trying to hide how terrified you are that the move wasn't actually gonna work out/be worth it

I can physically feel the absence of moments where nowadays a Dan mention would a be a given and back then Phil just moves on without it. He got there eventually but I was waiting for a "Dan doesn't like licorice" that never came in the first conversation about it

Phil stop giving away his email address to the internet challenge??

Good to know even before Rize this company was trying and miserably failing to make guests during live shows a thing

"that looks a lot like guild wars and not like packing boxes" aldksksk I support you Dan procrastination king

Random early 2010s youtube songs are my worst enemy I'm irrationally irritated by all of them immediately. Somehow in trying to get the walrus song out of my head after this I was infected by the llama song instead. Life is hell.

"Is Philadelphia a city or a state?" "It's a state! :)"

Making fun of us for freaking out about them touching and sharing clothes, now this feels familiar

Why does 2012 Dan wearing a snapback have the most rancid vibes imaginable. Love the shirt but unfortunately you did look like a twat in the hat sorry Dan

Phil's blank stare and halfhearted "I'm not down with that" while Dan laughs afterwards is really selling the lie they don't want to fuck, good one boys 👍

I've only seen a handful of the older live shows and they can be kinda a slog to get through for me, but doing it this way and taking notes to talk about it made it more fun! And always interesting to see how much they feel like different people in that era compared to now or even a few years after that. Even by like 2014 I would think they start to feel more familiarly Dan And Phil. Crazy stuff.