#somehow made these things a little harder to compose

[solxamber]

hello!, I was wondering if I can request twisted wonderland with male reader with a fierce wild cat personality? Any characters are fine but preferably the dormleaders, thank you! :)

thank you for the request <3 and i interpreted it as a wild cat beastman reader, and if that's not what you meant, you can resend the request and i'll write that! and i got carried away and did all the characters but the dormleaders' parts are a little longer

Characters: All NRC + Staff(completely platonic) + Grim(completely platonic) + Rollo, Neige and Chen'ya as a little treat

Riddle Rosehearts: The Stressed but Sweet Caretaker

Riddle was trying his best to remain composed, really. But watching you—a wild, fierce, untamable beastman—dangle upside down from a tree branch while growling at a confused pair of first-years was not helping his stress levels.

“Get down this instant!” he barked, glaring up at you. “That behavior is absolutely—”

But you just smirked down at him, tail flicking lazily as you refused to budge. “Make me,” you teased, stretching out leisurely across the branch, fully aware of how much you were winding him up.

Riddle’s eye twitched. “I will write you up for insubordination! Or worse, I’ll—”

You jumped down right in front of him, landing with perfect, feline grace, and leaned in close, a wild grin on your face. “You’ll what? Punish me?” you purred.

For a brief moment, Riddle’s composure cracked, his cheeks going bright red. He stammered, flustered, and finally looked away, exhaling sharply. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

And though you teased him relentlessly, you eventually backed off, surprising him with an affectionate headbutt that left him speechless. You had a knack for driving him to the brink of insanity—and then doing something sweet that made him almost enjoy it.

Trey Clover: The Beast Tamer

Trey’s patient, steady demeanor makes it impossible to ruffle him, no matter how feral you act. You once threw a fit in the kitchen, upset that someone had left out a bunch of vegetables instead of the meat-heavy snacks you craved.

Trey calmly handed you a whisk, nudging you toward a bowl of dough. “You know,” he said, smiling like a saint, “kneading dough is a great way to get rid of all that extra energy.”

You blinked, glaring at the flour-coated mess, but before you knew it, your hands were working the dough, tension easing. Trey just chuckled, somehow always knowing how to soothe your wild side.

Cater Diamond: Magicam’s Feral Star

Cater’s camera is practically glued to his hand whenever you’re around. “Omg, this is gold!” he chirps as he snaps shots of you mid-growl or pounce.

He even convinced you to strike some fierce, dramatic poses just for his Magicam account. “Okay, now show me that ‘wild beast who’s secretly a softie’ look,” Cater teases with a wink.

You snarl, lunging at him to swipe the camera from his hands, but he just laughs and dodges. “Wow, so wild!” You grumble but secretly enjoy the attention.

Ace Trappola: Professional Button-Pusher

Ace never misses an opportunity to tease you. He’ll poke at your cat ears or flick your tail when he thinks you’re not paying attention. “Careful, or I’ll have pictures of you chasing your own tail like a housecat,” he reminds you, grinning.

One day, after an especially exasperating comment, you lunge at him, claws out—but instead of fleeing, Ace bolts behind Deuce, who yelps in panic. “Hey, he’s your problem too!” Ace cackles, leaving you growling while Deuce looks panicked. “Ace! Quit using me as a shield!”

Deuce Spade: Honor-Bound Sparring Partner

Deuce tries to treat you with the utmost respect, but sometimes your wild side catches him off guard. The first time you wrestled him to the ground as a playful challenge, he froze. “I-Is this a duel?” he asked, wide-eyed, his honor-bound sense of duty kicking in. “Uh, no. It’s just a cat thing,” you explained, blinking down at him. But instead of calming him down, he took it way too seriously, swearing he’d learn to be strong enough to one day match your strength. Now, every time he challenges you to a spar, you just sigh and pat him on the head.

Leona Kingscholar: The Sleepy, Grumpy Mentor

Leona had never expected to find a wildcat who could match his laziness and his stubbornness. Yet, here you were, lounging next to him in the botanical gardens, basking in the sun.

“Yer blockin’ my light,” he grumbled half-heartedly, pushing you away with a lazy hand as you sprawled out over him.

You didn’t move an inch, only let out a low growl of satisfaction, “Find your own spot, ‘King.’ This one’s mine now.”

Leona snorted, amused despite himself. He didn’t care much for company, but you were an exception—mostly because you never tried to impress him or suck up. You just existed beside him, like another lazy lion in the pride.

Occasionally, though, you’d get a burst of energy—pouncing on him when he least expected it, challenging him to wrestle, which would invariably end with you two snarling and rolling around the gardens like cubs until Leona finally pinned you down.

“Quit strugglin’,” he’d mutter, half-sighing, half-grumbling as you squirmed under his hold.

“Never,” you’d retort with a cocky grin, only to go limp the moment Leona let out an exasperated sigh, settling back in as if nothing had happened.

“Yer such a pain,” he’d grumble, but secretly, he liked the challenge you brought to his otherwise lethargic life.

Ruggie Bucchi: Partner in Mischief

Ruggie absolutely loves that you’re a beastman like him. The two of you frequently team up for pranks and schemes. “Hey, we could totally swipe those sandwiches before anyone notices,” he whispers, and before you know it, you’re both in action, working as a sneaky duo.

He’s also not afraid to roughhouse, tackling you in the halls to try and wrestle something you’ve stolen back from him. “C’mon, share! You can’t hog all the loot!” he laughs, half-heartedly trying to swipe whatever you’ve nabbed.

When you snarl back playfully, he just smirks. “Alright, alright, keep it! I’ll get ya next time!

Jack Howl: Honor Among Beasts

Jack is all about training and honor, so your wild nature keeps him on his toes. He’s not one to flinch from your growls or playful attacks.

Instead, he meets your ferocity with a determined stance. “Come at me,” he grunts, and before you know it, you’re in a wrestling match, claws and teeth bared—but it’s all in good fun.

Afterward, he’ll clap you on the back, panting but grinning. “Good fight. You’re pretty strong, you know that?” You snicker, catching your breath. “You’re not bad either, pup.” He glares at the nickname but doesn't deny the compliment

Azul Ashengrotto: The Nervous Businessman

Azul had never met someone more unpredictable than you, and that was saying a lot. You had a tendency to pounce on him from the shadows whenever you felt like it, scaring him half to death and knocking his neat little world into chaos.

“Why must you insist on scaring me like that?” Azul shrieked one day as you leaped from behind a curtain, sending his papers flying everywhere.

You grinned, fangs gleaming as you crouched low. “Keeps you on your toes,” you teased, tail swishing playfully behind you.

Azul tried to collect himself, adjusting his glasses with a huff. “I’m running a business, not a… a circus!”

But despite his protests, he often found himself secretly enjoying your antics. They kept him sharp and on edge—qualities he valued, even if they did come with a side of perpetual anxiety. And, more than once, you surprised him by showing up with some rare, exotic item you’d “hunted” in the wild, much to Azul’s gleeful interest.

Though he never openly admitted it, he had a soft spot for your fierce and untamed spirit, even if it did give him heart palpitations on a daily basis.

Jade Leech: Amused Observer

Jade watches your antics with an almost academic fascination. When you’re in the middle of a fierce bout of wrestling with Floyd or Jack, he’ll stand by with a serene smile, making comments like, “Ah, such fascinating instincts you have.”

You never know if he’s complimenting you or analyzing you like a strange specimen. “You’re surprisingly dexterous for someone so… untamed,” Jade remarks after you dart past him in a chase with Floyd.

You roll your eyes, but when you snarl playfully in his direction, Jade’s eyes glint with amusement. “Very intimidating,” he chuckles.

Floyd Leech: Playtime, Anytime, Everytime

Floyd finds your feral energy endlessly amusing. The first time you growled at him, he practically sparkled with delight. “Ooh, a wild kitty! Let’s fight!” Without waiting for a response, he lunged at you, and what followed was an intense but weirdly fun brawl.

Floyd’s unpredictability keeps you on edge, but you’re the only one who seems to match his wildness blow for blow.

He loves sneaking up on you too, draping himself over your shoulders like a scarf and whispering, “Hey, kitty~ Wanna play?” You swat him off, grumbling, but Floyd just laughs and bounds away, promising to find you later.

Kalim Al-Asim: The Overexcited Hype Man

Kalim absolutely adored you.

“Woah!” Kalim exclaimed, jumping around with pure excitement as you leaped effortlessly onto the highest point of Scarabia’s rooftops. “That was amazing! Do it again!”

You, perched like a wild animal on the ledge, gave him a toothy grin. “You’re too easy to impress, Kalim,” you teased, flicking your tail and jumping back down beside him.

“But it’s so cool!” Kalim gushed, eyes sparkling with admiration. “You’re like a real-life king of the jungle or something!”

You ruffled his hair, your normally fierce demeanor softening in the face of his endless enthusiasm. “Well, someone’s got to keep you out of trouble, right?”

Kalim laughed brightly, wrapping you up in an affectionate hug that almost knocked you off balance. You huffed, rolling your eyes, but couldn’t help but smile at his boundless energy. Sure, he wasn’t the most intimidating guy, but he had a way of making you feel like a hero in his eyes, and that was more than enough for you.

Jamil Viper: The Exasperated Handler

Jamil didn’t ask for this. He didn’t ask for a fierce, wildcat beastman to constantly wreck his plans with reckless abandon, but here you were. Whether it was stealing food from the kitchens or causing chaos during training sessions, you were always finding ways to make his life harder.

“I swear,” Jamil muttered under his breath, wiping his brow after yet another one of your wild stunts, “you’re going to give me gray hairs before I turn twenty-five.”

You grinned, lounging lazily on a nearby couch, completely unbothered. “You should loosen up, Jamil. You’d have more fun.”

Jamil shot you a withering glare. “I don’t have time for ‘fun.’ Someone has to keep things running smoothly around here, and it certainly isn’t you.”

But despite his constant complaints, Jamil often found himself unconsciously looking after you—making sure you were eating properly (even if you preferred hunting your own food) and quietly smoothing over the chaos you left in your wake. He’d never admit it, but you’d grown on him—like a particularly troublesome stray cat that he couldn’t help but care for.

Vil: The Patient Tamer

Vil had dealt with divas, but you were a whole different beast—literally. Yet, somehow, the idea of taming your wild nature was a challenge he couldn’t resist.

“You could look so much better if you just let me help you,” Vil sighed as he brushed back a lock of your messy hair.

You growled in response, swatting his hand away. “I’m not some house cat for you to groom.”

“And that attitude,” Vil replied with a perfectly arched brow, “is why you continue to look like you just crawled out of a jungle.”

You gave him a sharp-toothed grin. “That’s because I did.”

Vil sighed dramatically but never gave up. Over time, you begrudgingly let him “polish” you up, as he liked to call it, and much to your surprise (though you’d never admit it), you didn’t hate the way he made you look. And for all his refinement, Vil had a deep respect for your strength and fierce independence, often praising you for qualities that no one else seemed to notice.

“You have a certain wild charm,” Vil once told you with a smirk. “Just… let me polish it to perfection.

Rook Hunt: Enthralled by the Beast

Rook absolutely adores your wild side. “Ah, magnifique!” he’ll exclaim whenever you bare your fangs or show off your feral grace. “Such raw, untamed beauty in your movements! You are truly a predator among men!”

It’s flattering at first, but eventually, you find yourself trying to escape his relentless admiration.

He’s always trying to sneak up on you, challenge your senses. “Ah, mon ami féroce, can you sense me even when I am but a shadow?” You snarl in annoyance, knowing he’s nearby but unsure where. He cackles, “Très bien! Your instincts are sharp, as always!” You’ve accepted that Rook will forever be your most persistent fan.

Epel Felmier: Wrestling Buddy

Epel thinks your wild nature is the coolest thing ever. He’s always asking you to spar, wanting to prove his strength. “C’mon, I ain’t afraid of a few claws!” he boasts, puffing out his chest. You can’t help but laugh at his bravado, but you indulge him.

After a few rounds of wrestling, you let him win, watching as he struts around proudly. “See? I can handle it!” he declares, even though he’s panting and disheveled.

You chuckle and tousle his hair. “Sure thing, champ.” Despite the light teasing, Epel genuinely enjoys having someone around who doesn’t treat him like he’s fragile.

Idia: The Startled Cat Owner

Idia didn’t do well with social interactions, let alone a wildcat beastman who liked to sneak up on him while he was gaming.

“Gah!” Idia yelped, almost knocking his controller out of his hands when you suddenly appeared behind him, your tail swishing lazily. “D-Dude, warn me next time!”

You chuckled, plopping down beside him. “You’re way too easy to sneak up on.”

Idia grumbled something about “max stealth stats” but let you stay, mostly because he was too nervous to tell you to leave. Though, as time went on, he started to get used to your sudden appearances, even finding comfort in the fact that you always seemed to gravitate toward him—like some kind of guard cat.

It wasn’t long before you both ended up gaming together, with Idia quietly giving you tips while you teased him about being the “weakest cat in the den.”

And though Idia would never admit it, he appreciated your presence more than anyone knew. Having a fierce beastman around made him feel a little safer, even if you did constantly startle him half to death.

Ortho: The Curious Brother

Ortho is instantly fascinated by you. “You’re so cool!” he exclaims, scanning you with his eyes glowing as he processes data. He’s always asking questions about your wild beastman nature, wondering about your enhanced senses, strength, and agility.

“Is your tail prehensile? Can you communicate with other animals?” His curiosity never ends, and you find it endearing.

Sometimes, Ortho will run simulations with you, testing your speed or sparring with you in a safe environment, always careful to make sure you don’t get hurt.

He even programs a few custom video game challenges for you to try, and despite his more robotic nature, you swear you see him puffing up with pride when you praise his efforts. "I knew you'd like that feature! Maybe one day, I can create a robotic panther, and we can team up!"

His enthusiasm and innocence make your interactions lighthearted and full of adventure—like having a little brother who looks up to you in every way.

Malleus: The Intrigued Fae Prince

Malleus had never met someone so wild yet so intriguing. Your untamed nature reminded him of the old stories of beastmen who roamed the forests long ago, and he couldn’t help but be fascinated by your strength and unpredictability.

One day, during one of your many impromptu sparring sessions, Malleus observed you with a rare smile. “You are quite remarkable,” he said as you pounced toward him, claws out.

You grinned mid-leap. “And you’re not too bad yourself, dragon boy.”

“You’re quite the lively one,” Malleus remarked, barely winded as he effortlessly dodged your attacks, his long coat swishing elegantly behind him. “I must admit, I find your untamed spirit... refreshing.”

You growled in frustration but couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at your lips. “If you keep talking like that, dragon boy, I might think you’re flirting.”

Malleus’s lips twitched upward. “And if I were?”

Lilia Vanrouge: Playful Mentor

Lilia finds your wild antics endlessly entertaining. He’ll often join in, playfully flipping around and encouraging you to let loose even more. “Yes! That’s the spirit!” he cackles after you leap onto a high ledge during one of your spontaneous chases.

He even offers you advice on how to hone your instincts, and you’re surprised at how sharp and perceptive he is. “Ah, you remind me of some old friends from centuries ago,” he says with a fond smile.

“Such ferocity is admirable.” You growl, but it’s half-hearted—Lilia’s playful energy is contagious. Plus, he’s surprisingly good at dodging your attacks, making him an entertaining sparring partner.

Silver: Sleepy Companion

Silver finds your energy a bit exhausting, to be honest. But he doesn’t mind it too much. In fact, he often naps while you’re causing havoc, and you’ll find him fast asleep in the middle of a brawl or sparring match.

“How do you sleep through all this noise?” you ask one day, poking him awake. Silver yawns and stretches lazily. “I’ve gotten used to it,” he says with a sleepy smile. “Besides, you’re not as scary as you think.”

You grumble, but there’s something endearing about how relaxed he is around you. Sometimes you’ll sit next to him while he naps, and you catch yourself softening, just a little.

Sebek Zigvolt: Constantly Offended

Sebek is furious about your untamed behavior. “How dare you act so… so savage in the presence of Malleus-sama!” he roars whenever you’re being particularly wild.

He’s always lecturing you about manners and proper decorum, but you find it amusing how easily ruffled he gets. One day, you purposely growl while gnawing on some meat in front of him, just to see his reaction. “Disgraceful!” he yells, practically sputtering. “You are in the presence of greatness, and you—!”

You cut him off with a smirk. “Relax, Sebek. It’s just a joke.” Sebek fumes but can’t seem to argue with your nonchalance. Malleus finds it funny, and that only makes Sebek more frustrated.

Rollo Flamme: The Begrudging Observer

Rollo isn’t quite sure what to make of you. He’s used to quiet order and isn’t a fan of anything remotely chaotic or, in your case, wild. You can see his disdain every time you let your beastman instincts slip—climbing trees, lounging on rooftops, or hunting for sport on school grounds.

“That behavior is unbecoming of a student,” he huffs, glaring at you from across the room. You just give him a toothy grin, flashing your sharp canines, which makes him bristle. Still, he’s too much of a stickler for rules to do anything drastic.

He does, however, go out of his way to avoid you during events, always muttering something about ‘chaos incarnate.’

One day, you catch him staring at you from afar, and when you wave with a lazy smirk, he turns sharply on his heel. “I have no time for such nonsense,” he grumbles under his breath, but there’s a hint of curiosity in his eyes that he refuses to acknowledge.

Neige LeBlanche: The Overly Cheerful One

Neige is utterly fascinated by you, in the most innocent, endearing way possible. “Wow, you’re so strong! And those ears!” he exclaims every time he sees you, eyes sparkling with genuine awe.

He’s constantly asking you questions about your beastman traits, from your heightened senses to your climbing skills. “That’s so cool! Can you teach me?”

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, though sometimes it gets a bit overwhelming when he tries to copy your movements (and fails spectacularly).

You find yourself softening around him, his pure-hearted nature making you feel oddly protective. He’s always showering you with compliments, and despite your rough exterior, you can’t help but be a little charmed by his sweetness.

He even tries to make matching flower crowns for you, though you’re not quite sure how to break it to him that they don’t really go with your vibe.

Chen’ya: The Mischievous Kindred Spirit

Chen’ya is someone who truly gets you. “Another cat in the mix, huh?” he teases as he appears upside down in a tree, his signature grin wide. “You’re not so bad. Almost as sneaky as me.”

The two of you share a certain playful, mischievous energy that makes for some chaotic fun around campus. You’re constantly trying to out-prank each other, leading to a sort of rivalry-friendship that keeps things exciting.

“Think you can catch me?” Chen’ya challenges before vanishing into thin air, and you’re always up for the chase, grinning like a feral cat.

He enjoys pushing your buttons, but you give as good as you get, earning his respect. “You’re pretty wild, huh? I like it,” he laughs, the two of you often ending up in trouble together—but always with a good story to tell.

Grim: The Feline Frenemy

Grim, naturally, sees you as competition from day one. “Hmph, I’m the only cat anyone needs around here!” he declares, puffing out his chest. Every time you cross paths, Grim tries to one-up you, whether it’s showing off how many cans of tuna he can down or demonstrating his “powerful” magic.

“Bet you can’t shoot fire like this!” he boasts as he sets a small flame dancing on the tip of his tail. You just shake your head, amused at his antics. Sometimes, though, you play along, sparring with him in mock battles or sneaking bits of food his way during mealtimes.

As much as he tries to assert his dominance, it’s clear he sees you as a partner-in-crime of sorts. “Alright, you’re not so bad for a giant furball,” he begrudgingly admits after you help him out of a particularly tricky situation involving some overzealous ghosts.

You’ve grown to enjoy the little gremlin’s antics, even if he refuses to admit how much he likes your company.

Crowley: The Ineffectual Handler

Headmaster Crowley is at a loss for how to handle your wild side. “Please, dear student, try not to destroy any more property!” he begs after you accidentally claw through some furniture during a particularly energetic moment.

You barely pay him any mind as he waves his arms dramatically. “Oh, but think of the expenses! The repairs!” he wails. “Why must you make my job so difficult?” You flash him an innocent smile, “Oops, sorry Headmaster.”

He flinches but quickly shifts into his over-the-top persona. “Ah, but I am a forgiving man! Just be more careful next time, won’t you?” He backs away quickly as you flex your claws playfully, clearly unsure how to handle your unpredictable nature.

Divus Crewel: Training the Beast

Crewel doesn’t tolerate any of your wild antics during his class. “Sit down and behave, pup,” he orders with a snap of his riding crop, his tone sharp as he glares at you over his glasses. “You may be a beast, but you will learn discipline under my watch.”

Surprisingly, you find yourself respecting his no-nonsense attitude. His strict demeanor keeps you in check—at least during his lessons—and though you grumble about it, there’s a small part of you that likes the challenge.

Crewel gives you pointed looks whenever you slip up, and when you’re particularly rambunctious, he doesn’t hesitate to pull you aside for a stern lecture.

“Remember, you’re not a wild animal,” he says, patting his ever-faithful Dalmatian beside him. “Though sometimes I wonder.”

Mozus Trein: The Disapproving Scholar

Professor Trein does not approve of your behavior, not one bit. “Such undisciplined conduct!” he mutters under his breath every time you act out in class.

His cat, Lucius, is constantly glaring at you from his perch, seemingly sharing his master’s distaste for your rowdy nature. “Beastmen are always so… difficult to manage,” Trein sighs as you grin mischievously at Lucius, who hisses back.

You’re not one to back down from a challenge, so whenever Trein isn’t looking, you and Lucius engage in little standoffs, making Trein exasperated.

“One of these days, you’ll learn the importance of decorum,” Trein scolds, though you can’t help but notice that Lucius seems to be warming up to your playfulness—just a little

Vargas: Ultimate Hype Man

Vargas loves your wild energy. “That’s what I’m talking about!” he cheers whenever you leap over obstacles or use your beastman abilities to ace his physical challenges.

“Now that’s a true athlete!” He encourages your every move, making you feel like a superstar during his training sessions. “Come on, show everyone what real power looks like!”

Vargas is always hyping you up, and you admit it feels good to have someone who appreciates your raw strength. He constantly pushes you to go harder and faster, treating you like his prized student.

“Beastman power, yeah!” You just smirk, playing along with his enthusiasm, knowing that you're pretty much is favourite.

Sam: The Mysterious Merchant's Favorite Customer

Sam finds you absolutely fascinating. Every time you step into his shop, he grins widely, the shadows in his shop almost seeming to stir with excitement.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite wild child,” he chuckles, waving you over to his counter. “Got something special just for you.” You’re intrigued, of course.

Sam always seems to have exactly what you need, whether it’s something to tame that unruly beastman fur of yours or an ancient charm for your next competition.

“I always get the most interesting customers,” he says with a wink. You suspect there’s more to him than meets the eye, but hey, as long as he’s got what you need, you won’t complain.

Plus, his shop has a certain mysterious charm that keeps you coming back.

Masterlist

[hees-mine]

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬 𝐩𝐭 𝟓

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warning: mentions of smut, taboo relationship, reader says no but doesn’t mean it, angst, suggestive.

Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, taboo relationship, minors do not interact!

WC: 3k

Safe to say that you and Heeseung continued your forbidden hookups behind his daughter's back.

As inconvenient as it was, you were hooking up every day, sometimes at your house, sometimes at his, or maybe even in the parking lot, depending on how needy you both were.

At least a month has gone by, and the same enthusiasm that was there when you first met was still thriving.

So much to the point he was trying to do more with you than just have sex, suggesting that when you are both free, you should go on a date, and that's when you realized that this had gone way too far.

You couldn't keep doing this because it was wrong. You know you said that before, but now it was starting to get real.

You made a mistake in the beginning by fucking your best friend's dad behind her back, but now you're going to right your wrong and break things off with Heeseung before things went even further.

And right now was the perfect time to do that. He had texted you earlier to see if it was okay for him to come over, but you replied, telling him you'd go to him instead.

He was quick to protest, insisting that he'd come to you, but after a little debate, he finally gave in and let you come over to his.

The whole walk there, your heart was beating uncontrollably, and you felt sick to your stomach, but you knew this was the right thing to do, and it had to be done now.

Arriving at his door, you knock, letting him know that you've arrived, and just seconds later, he's swinging open the door as if he's been waiting by it this whole time.

Okay, he was, but he was just excited to see you today. It was early. He had a day off, and his daughter wouldn't be home for a while, which gave you both the free time that you've both been craving for. "Hi, princess," he opens his arms automatically and brings you into his chest as he inhales your sweet scent. "Missed you." he leaned back to take a look at you, exhaling a soft breath. "Come in." You nod and follow him into his kitchen, not bothering to take your shoes off at the door cause you'll be leaving soon. "Come here" when you feel him so close and nearly engulfing you in another hug you knew you had to cut ties with him now before you fell into his arms and ultimately his bed.

"No," you mumbled and put your hands on his chest, staying at a reasonable distance.

Obviously, he's confused by the sudden distance you put between the two of you, and you can tell by the look on his face, and he has every reason to be confused. "Why?" He takes a step closer, invading the space you just created by placing his hands on your shoulders. He looks down at your eyes, searching for answers and stupidity. You look at his lips. They look so inviting, but you quickly shake off the inappropriate thought and continue with your original plan.

"Cause we can't," you say, feeling weak in the knees just from the scent of his cologne.

"Oh, princess, but we always do." he cups your cheeks in his warm palms, tilting your head upwards so he can properly look you in the eyes before zeroing in on your lips.

His face was just inches away from yours, but you somehow managed to compose yourself and push him off. "Not anymore." You hated how weak and pathetic you sounded. Your body was betraying you right now. Your mind wanted one thing, but between your legs, it wanted another.

He didn't even budge, which made this even harder, but you had to do something that let him know you didn't really want this and you were serious this time. "Why not anymore? You still want me. I know you do," he whispers and bends down, ghosting his lips over your neck.

"Hee," you moan and tilt your head to the side. The feeling of his lips kissing all over your sensitive spot had you losing your mind, but again, you're somehow able to break free from this lust-induced trance and pull away, only for him to press you against the wall and trap you between it and his body.

"See?" He whispers in your ear, his right hand cupping your pulsing core, and you're so embarrassed by how wet you are just from the slightest touch. The hold he had on you was so strong, but today, you were going to break free.

"Stop." he doesn't listen and slips his hand inside your panties, and your face gets hot when he starts toying with your wet folds. 

He hums in response, used to the initial apprehension of you not wanting to be with him, but just like every other time. He knew things would end with you below him, drenched in sweat and full of his cum.

You gripped his wrist weakly, attempting to get him to stop, but your knees were already buckling in response to his touch. "No," you breathe deeply, pushing his hand out of your underwear, but he continues to lick just beneath your earlobe as both his hands grip your waist.

"Princess, stop fighting it. I know it's wrong, but we both want it, and that's all that matters." he tries to slip his hand back inside your underwear, but this time, you are quick enough to push his hand away.

"This has to end now. I'm sick of lying." You bite your lip nervously.

He chuckles, proceeding to grab your wrists and pin them above your head as he ruts his bulge against you, and you moan out from the feeling of the outline of his dick rubbing into your mound. "Now, what was that?" He grins and goes in for a kiss, and he melts at just the thought he'd been dreaming of kissing you all day, but when you didn't reciprocate his actions, he tried to persuade you to kiss him back by licking over your lower lip begging for your permission meanwhile the only begging you were doing was for him to stop.

"Heeseung, stop!" You flailed in his grip, but he kept you still, trying to get you to kiss him.

"Y/n, please," he mumbled, trying to chase your lips, but you turned away from him, and he felt his heart sink cause he knew he was losing you, and he couldn't, not right now and not like this. "Come on," he let go of one of your wrists and gripped your jaw, forcing you to stay still and let him kiss you.

He smashed his lips against yours, and despite your whines and protest, he kept going, trying to make you want him as much as he wanted you. "Shh, baby," he ripped the buttons off your top and started groping your chest while he kissed you.

When he freed your one hand, you used it to push against him, and he barely moved. "Stop," you whimpered helplessly. You wanted him so bad, but you had to stop this. Whatever you and him had together had to end.

"No, I know you want this," and you did so badly you wanted him. Even if you were saying no, your body was screaming yes and begging for his touch.

He tried to slip his hands behind your back and take your bra off, but you used every last ounce of power in your body to push him off. "No!" You yelled, and he stumbled back, but he still wouldn't let you go.

"Y/n, please don't do this. I need you." he pressed you against the wall even harder, making it impossible for you to get free. "We can't stop seeing each other now." You were struggling, but he was far too strong. You grabbed into his collar, trying to push him, but like the times prior, he still didn't move. "You can't just come into my life and walk away not like this." he closed his eyes tightly, a pained expression on his face as he leaned closer to you. "Kiss me" like before, you didn't, but he didn't stop either. "Kiss me, please," his voice softly shook as he begged for your reciprocation.

You were hitting his chest, arms flailing in any direction, trying to get him away from him. Your attempts failed until one hit landed, and you accidentally struck him across his exposed chest and scratched him. He gasped from the sudden pain, his eyes shooting open to look at you, and you shoved him for the last and final time.

You didn't even push him that hard, but he stumbled back a few feet cause the scratch caught him off guard, and that's what it finally took for him to realize you were serious about not wanting to be with him anymore.

His breath was ragged, his shirt crumpled, and his eyes flashed back and forth, trying to scrounge up the right words to say and apologize for his actions. He wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable; he thought he could talk you into it and get you in the mood like all the other times, but he wished he would have just stopped the first time you told him no. He didn't know he was making you feel threatened enough to hurt him. "Y-y/n, I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-"You couldn't even look at him anymore because you couldn't stand to see the hurt look on his face and the red scratch on his chest. This was all your fault, and he was apologizing like it was his. "I'm sorry," he reached for you, but you quickly stepped back, sending a stinging pain throughout his whole heart.

He was literally panicking, not knowing what to say or do. He just wanted to hold you and apologize over and over until you trusted him again, but the more seconds that passed, the more he felt like he was losing you.

You quickly grab your shirt in the corner and scramble to make yourself look presentable before leaving his house utterly discombobulated.

Your heart was racing, your panties were wet, and all at the same time, you were sad and hurt cause whatever you both had going on was now over.

He looked down at his chest, tracing over the scratch, and he looked back at you, getting ready to utter another apology, but it was too late. You were already gone.

It was good while it lasted, but all good things come to an end.

-

Weeks had passed since the incident, and Heeseung obviously wasn't happy about the turn of events, but he did his very best to avoid you cause the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable again.

If you truly didn't want him, then he'd accept it, but he wasn't exactly ready to move on. Not after all you did together. It'd take more than just a few weeks for him to come to terms with reality.

Every time you came over, he just stared at you with those huge, round, innocent eyes of his glossed over with what you could only surmise as tears. He'd greet you so as not to cause any suspicion from his daughter and then quickly retreat to his office so you wouldn't have to be close to him.

Your heart sank cause you knew he was hiding because of you. You knew that expression he gave you every time you walked through his door. It was nothing but sadness and maybe just a hint of hope.

He knew what the two of you had was wrong, but he didn't know you could just drop him so easily like that, and with seemingly no remorse, you looked happy while he was miserable.

So miserable that he just cooped himself up in his office and worked around the clock to take his mind off whatever it was you and him had going on.

Obviously, his daughter caught onto his off behavior, so she tried to do something to cheer him up. "Hey, Dad," she walked behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders.

"Hi, sweetheart," he tilted his head and gave her a quick peck on the back of her hand. "You need something?" He says, still paying attention to his computer.

"Why don't you come to the kitchen? I made dinner for us tonight." he immediately whips his head in her direction.

"Sweetheart, why would you do that? You know I always cook for you," he said, obviously dissatisfied with himself.

"I know, Dad, but you looked busy and tired, so I thought, why not?" He sighed and nodded his head in understanding.

"Fine, but don't do it again. Just call me next time." he pointed his finger in her face as a warning.

"I'm an adult dad," she whined.

"But you'll always be my baby, and you're under my roof-"

"Yeah, yeah, your roof, your rules, whatever." She rolled her eyes and exited his office.

"Hey! Get back here. I didn't raise you like that." he shut off his computer and quickly followed her to the kitchen. "Apologize now, young lady," he chuckled as he entered the kitchen, and the breath got knocked out of him when he saw you sitting at the table, his smile instantly fading upon seeing you.

His daughter noticed the exchange. "Oh, sorry, Dad, I invited y/n over again without telling you," she pouted.

"No, no, sweetheart, it's okay. I'll just have dinner in my office so I'm not interrupting." he didn't look your way at all and made his way to the stove to serve himself.

"No," she whined. "You're always cooped up in your office. It's been weeks since we had dinner together."

He sighed. It's true, and he felt bad knowing that his daughter was missing him all because he had a falling out with you. "Okay, sorry, I'll stay but go and sit your butt down so I can serve you" he ruffled her hair, and she smiled happily, skipping over to the table to sit down and await her dinner to be served. "And she said she's not a baby," he laughs quietly to himself.

Heeseung plated dinner for all of you and sat down to catch up with his daughter about what she had been up to. He actively avoided speaking to you, which hurt, but deep down, you knew it was for the better, and you knew he was only respecting the boundary that you had set.

Somehow, the topic turned into boys and relationships, which heeseung was quick to shut down because no boy was worthy of his little girl. 

"But Dad, I really like him," she whined.

"Fine," he sighed. "I want to meet him first, though." She nodded happily that he approved. "And he's gonna have to go through my gauntlet."

"But-"

"No buts, sweetpea, now eat before your food gets cold." 

You couldn't help but smile. It was so nice to see how close he was with his daughter. You knew he must have been a great dad if his daughter talked to him about boys so freely.

"Okay, but Dad, what about you? You've been single since, like, forever," she giggles, and you shift uncomfortably at the mention of him being in a relationship.

"Ouch," he laughed playfully. "Daddy's off the market." 

"Come on, I know you're lonely. You've been single ever since she left," she reasoned.

It's true his ex left them both high and dry. The topic wasn't sensitive to either of them cause after what she did, they had no feelings toward her whatsoever. After his marriage ended, he really wasn't thinking about anything else but his daughter's future and making a good living for her, doing his best to be a parent for her. Even if he sometimes didn't understand her, he still did his best to play his role as a father and give her everything she wanted, even if it meant going to the dad and daughter dance wearing a hot pink suit.

"I don't know, pumpkin. I'm a busy man; I don't have much space for that kind of stuff." you didn't know it, but you breathed a sigh of relief knowing he wasn't actively looking for someone. Yes, it was selfish, but if you couldn't have him, you didn't want anyone to.

"Just try and find someone you like. Don't try to make me happy by being with someone who seems like a good mom. I don't want a mom; I just want you to be happy." Heeseung smiled warmly at that. That was his little girl, always thoughtful, always looking out for his happiness. He couldn't ask for a better daughter. 

"Okay," he picked up his napkin, wiping his mouth. "There's this girl that works in the office with me, and she's made advances towards me a couple of times, but maybe next time I'll reciprocate." he shrugged nonchalantly. He said that just to make her happy. He knew he couldn't move on from it, especially not that fast.

All of a sudden, you felt like you were going to puke. Just the thought of him with another woman tore you apart inside. 

His daughter smiled happily, hoping a woman could come into her dad's life and make her happy. "What about you, y/n?" Heeseung went stiff in his chair, praying that you weren't with somebody else. It'd break him if you were interested in someone who wasn't him.

You acted like normal and just said whatever random name that came to mind. "You know Jake?" you said it just to try to make Heeseung jealous, but by the uninterested look on his face, he didn't seem to care.

Why would he, anyway? You were the one that ended things between you and him.

Your friend giggles, nodding her head. "He's nice. I like him too." You and Jake had been friends for a while, but you were never attracted to him like that. Sure, he was cute, but that was the extent of it, and as for him, he was already interested in somebody else.

Heeseung scoffed and discreetly rolled his eyes. What kind of dumbass name was Jake? The more he thought about it, the more he got upset because that meant you were with another guy that wasn't him.

He immediately got jealous and upset because Jake was probably nice, he was probably your age, and he probably made you happier than he ever could.

Every bite of dinner tasted bitter after hearing that you liked someone else. Did you ever really even like him to begin with, or was he just easy to have sex with?

It was probably just meaningless sex cause he had to be honest with himself. He was old, you were young, you had a life, and he lived in the office. While you could be having drinks on The Weeknd, he'd be doing paper. Work, you belonged to two different worlds, so maybe you breaking things off was for the better, even if it didn't feel like it.

And maybe it was best when you came over a few weeks ago and told him that it was the last time.

⟱ ⟱ ⟱

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

[unforgivenntired2]

My hero academia boys find you crying? (Angst)

Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, Kirishima Eijiro, Denki Kaminari

Izuku(Deku)

He would first start panicking trying to figure out what happened to you.

"A-Are you okay?! Oh my god do you need something?? Can I get you something??"

After the mini panic attack he just had, he's going to try to understand what the reason is. If you don't want to tell him? No problem. He'll stay and hug you hard, telling you softly to let the tears fall. That it's okay to cry. "You can talk to me about it, sweetie. I'm always here for you."

Somehow hugging him only makes you sob harder and eventually tell him what was wrong. He'll stay there the whole time, listening intently and running a hand up and down your back. He'll tell you that its fine. That everything's going to be alright. And even if it's not, he'll always be there for you even when there's no one else left.

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo's initial reaction might be gruff or abrasive, but underneath his tough exterior, he does care for those close to him. It's hard for him to express that he's worried.

"Oi brat. Toughen up." He might start with a more of a confident voice, but somehow seeing you cry makes his heart ache so.. so badly.

He might stand there awkwardly for a moment before grumbling, "What's got you bawling like an idiot?" But as you continue to cry, he'll soften slightly, realizing the severity of your emotions. Despite his discomfort, he'll awkwardly offer his arms to invite you to hug him, trying to offer some form of comfort. He'll scoff when you come closer and mumble. "My stupid little idiot."

He'll hold you as if you're made of glass and somehow deep inside he's scared that he'll hurt you somehow. He might not say much, but his presence alone is his way of showing that he cares.

Shoto Todoroki

To be honest, he doesn't know what to do. He just stands there awkwardly for a while until you look up at him. He would quietly approach you with his usual stone face, but behind it, it's filled with worry.

"Are you okay?" His voice would be soft, almost tentative, as he approaches you.

He'd sit beside you quietly, offering a comforting presence until you feel ready to talk. Todoroki might gently place a hand on your shoulder or offer you a tissue without saying much, allowing you the space to open up if you choose to. He won't ask you to open up about what's wrong. If you feel like telling him, you will.

And whilst you tell him, he'll listen silently and sometimes his sheer inattentiveness towards things would make you let out a small laugh. Todoroki doesn't get it but nevertheless he's happy he made you cheer up a bit.

Denki Kaminari

Denki's reaction might be a mix of confusion and concern. He's not always the best at handling serious situations, but he cares deeply for his friends.

"Hey, uh, what's wrong?" He'd approach you with a slightly awkward smile, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

Seeing you cry would likely catch him off guard, and he might fumble for words at first. "Um, h-hey, it's gonna be okay, right? You know, whatever it is, we can figure it out together."

Despite his initial uncertainty, Denki would try his best to comfort you. He might crack a few jokes or attempt to lighten the mood with his lighthearted personality, hoping to bring a smile to your face. Some of his failed attempts at it would make you giggle through the sobs.

Denki would listen attentively to whatever you have to say. He might offer words of encouragement, assuring you that he's there to support you no matter what.

Throughout the interaction, Denki's genuine concern for your well-being would shine through, even if he's not always the most eloquent or composed in expressing it. He'd stay by your side, offering comfort and companionship until you feel better.

Kirishima Eijiro

"Hey, are you okay?" His voice would be soft, but filled with genuine concern as he approaches you.

He'd sit down beside you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder or offering you a reassuring smile. Kirishima's presence alone would feel grounding, as if you're not facing whatever troubles you alone.

"Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it. I'm here for you," he'd say earnestly, his eyes reflecting his sincerity.

If you choose to confide in him, Kirishima would listen intently, nodding along and offering words of support. He'd validate your feelings, letting you know that it's okay to feel the way you do.

"You're really manly for opening up about this," he'd say, his voice filled with admiration. "But remember, you don't have to go through this alone. I'll always have your back." Kirishima would stand up and flex his muscles as if to show you his manliness making you chuckle.

"And anyways if anything happens to you, I'll always be there to save you my princess."

Throughout the conversation, Kirishima's unwavering support and positivity would be a source of comfort, helping to lift your spirits and ease your burden. He'd stay by your side, offering encouragement and solidarity until you feel better.

[perfctvelvet]

I can’t stop thinking about Momo from Twice!! 😫 She’s SO hot and I NEED her to straddle me, put me into a mating press and use a double ended dildo with me. She’s so strong and has so much stamina I could imagine Momo not stopping her thrusts until she’s satisfied and eating reader in between out to give them a “break” (ofc with reader not wanting her to stop either but Momo knows reader is just being a brat 🤭)

Lush; Momo/Reader

Content: 2nd POV. PWP, teasing and praise, overstimulation, double-ended dildo, oral (reader receiving).

A/N: Anon thank you for this message 😿I love when y'all get creative in my inbox!!! Hopefully I did your fantasy some justice. Enjoy!

It was amazing how Momo could just keep going and going. All that stamina and energy had to go somewhere, and she took it out on your poor pussy.

Your knees are almost pressed to your shoulders as Momo drills into you. The toy she has is thick and placed inside the two of you. She's able to keep herself composed, focused on nothing but pure pleasure while you feel like a hot mess beneath her. Tears fall from your eyes as she tries to kiss them away. Two rounds and orgasms in and you're so overwhelmed. Despite having the same thick length in her pussy, Momo is able to handle it much better than you. The feeling of her driving the toy into you and hitting your sore soft spot made you shake. The mess between your legs caused your skin to stick to his. You kept your eyes closed shut in embarrassment; the only thing on your mind is when will he be fully satiated?

"Can you handle another one, pretty girl?"

She manages to speak in a clear voice with soft moans placed between some of her words. Compared to you, who can only let out a babble, Momo could go for a few more rounds.

"Momo!" You whine. It's the only coherent word you can manage.

Momo cups your face and kisses your bruised lips. She feels bad that you're already so worn out, but she also enjoys seeing you at her mercy.

"You're doing so good for me baby. Your pretty face is gonna make me cum!"

Despite the pleasure stirring in her stomach, Momo's thrusts are still consistent and mean. You know she's getting close because she's fucking you faster and harder. She meets you with one final thrust before grinding her clit against yours. You don't mean to cum with her but after all this time of getting your pussy stretched open, the pressure on your clit makes you explode.

Your voice cracks at the loud moan that escapes. Momo squeals and moans as she cums just seconds after you. Her cum slides down the toy and onto your pussy. You are far past feeling sloppy, but Momo wants more.

"Don't give up on me now baby." She sits up, giving you a chance to stretch and move your legs again, but your pussy is still stuffed. She starts bouncing again, her pretty tits moving up and down with each movement.

You just lay there trying to pull yourself together. You grab onto Momo's hips which slow her down a little. She gives you a sympathetic look and comes to a complete stop. You're tired, but seeing her slide off of the double-ended dildo makes your mouth water.

"My pretty baby feeling sore?"

Unable to speak, you nod your head pathetically. Momo coos at the sight of you. You weren't sure if she was teasing you or if she was feeling bad for making you this way. She gets between your legs and slowly pulls the dildo out of you. You whimper once you're pussy is empty and has nothing to clench anymore. Through half-closed eyes you watch her stick your end of the toy into her mouth and she sucks off your cum. She moans at the taste. You close your eyes completely to avoid feeling even more embarrassment. Your face feels like it's on fire.

Momo inspects your sore pussy for a few seconds before softly dragging her finger against your puffy folds. You tense up and open your eyes again. You're still feeling overwhelmed but somehow her touching you like this is soothing. Momo bends down and buries her face in your pussy. She collects the mix your cum together in her mouth. She hums as if she's feasting on the sweetest, freshest honey in all of the land. Her soft tongue on your pussy feels like silk. The feeling of your flesh against her tongue is turning her on more than you.

She should show some restraints, but she just can't. The mess between your legs, the taste of your pussy, and the sight of like this makes her hungry again. So for the third time tonight, she pushes the dildo into your pussy again and then mounts you.

"Just one more for me. I promise."

[keehomania]

hello! can I please ask for dom xiaojun with afab reader and creampie stuff? i felt like not many story abt him here

SWEET HOME — XIÀO DÉJÙN (肖德俊) (18+)

✧ MDNI (NSFW)

why did people endure the bad life threw at them? why was the path ahead always so rocky? you crossed all the bridges laid out for you, not for the thrill of the journey, but for one reason and one reason only—to reach the other side. the other side was always promised to be warmer, more forgiving, more welcoming. the other side kissed scarred knuckles and brought life back to weak pulse points. it held the kind of peace that made you believe the hardships were just a fleeting dream, a memory easily forgotten in the haze of new beginnings.

but the truth lingered, no matter how hard you tried to forget. the hardships were real. they were carved into the person you’d become, shaping you like clay pressed under relentless hands. they were the reason you could stand tall now, feet firmly planted on the ground, even when everything inside felt like it was floating, uncertain. they were the cruel, quiet moments of crying into your hands, panicking over assignments left undone, opportunities missed. you were in your senior year—why hadn’t you done more? why hadn’t you pushed yourself harder, sought out those extra credits that could’ve given you some sense of security? the weight of that regret felt unbearable sometimes, pressing down on your chest until you could barely breathe.

and then came the anxiety. the thick, consuming realization that college acceptance meant more than just a new chapter in your life—it meant you were no longer anybody’s little girl. you were no longer wrapped in the warmth and familiarity of your sweet home, no longer protected by those walls that had once made the world outside seem so far away. now, it was right in front of you, towering and daunting, filled with the unknown. a new place, new people, new responsibilities. it was all so unfamiliar, and you weren’t used to any of it.

falling in love for the first time was supposed to be beautiful, wasn’t it? that’s what everyone said—love was the one thing that was supposed to make everything better. but how could something so beautiful be so terrifying? why did it feel like every emotion was heightened, every glance, every word loaded with meaning? why was déjùn ignoring you when just last week, he had been everything you needed? why were you so mad at him, when you couldn’t even remember what had sparked the argument in the first place?

the cycle was exhausting. déjùn would get worried, you’d get upset. you’d break up, convinced it was the end, only to stalk each other like prey around campus, neither one of you willing to fully let go. and then, inevitably, you’d make up, but it never seemed to get any easier. somehow, no matter how broken things felt, life never kept you too far apart. maybe there was a reason for that. there was.

there was a reason. a reason that went deeper than anything fate could’ve scripted for you. it wasn’t just about watching déjùn smile or listening to his voice as he mumbled sleepily into your neck on those nights where time seemed to slow, letting you savor every heartbeat. no, it was more than that. it was to warm the hands that kept you going, to shelter the body that melted so perfectly against yours, as if you’d been carved from the same stone. the reason transcended the simple notion of destiny; it went beyond what the universe might have planned for you both.

you knew it when you saw him cry for the first time, and everything changed. he was always the composed one—the one who kept it together when the world felt like it was unraveling. his cool exterior never faltered, or at least, that’s what you thought until the night it all fell apart. it happened in your dorm, the quiet, familiar space suddenly feeling like a place for unraveling instead of refuge. he had broken down in front of you like he hadn’t in front of anyone else. the sobs came from deep within him, raw and uncontrolled, shaking his body in a way that left you speechless.

he had sat on your bed, hands covering his face, broken sobs echoing off the walls. His whole body shuddered with each breath, the pain pouring out of him like a dam had finally burst. you didn’t know why. he never told you, and you never asked. you never had to. it wasn’t the words that mattered in that moment, it was the feeling, the weight of his pain heavy enough to crush both of you. and so you wept with him. his tears fell, unfiltered, washing over your heart, the same heart that beat for him without hesitation.

you had held him, arms wrapped around his shaking frame, fingers tangled in his hair, and cried until his sobs finally quieted. until his breathing evened out, and the room fell silent again, save for the occasional hitch in his breath. but even that moment—intimate, raw, and unforgettable—wasn’t the full reason. the reason went beyond every touch, every kiss, every whispered promise he had never once broken. he had given you a home in his arms, a place where you belonged, where the rest of the world didn’t matter. and you were determined to give him that same home, something tangible, something sweet that he could call his own.

the house was more than just a dream. it was real, a piece of you given to him. nestled between the fields and the trees, with a creek nearby and a church hidden deep within the forest. the barn and pens were close, but they never reeked of animals. instead, the air smelled of freshwater and lilies, just like you had always imagined it would. the subtle scent of freshly baked bread lingered from the home bakery nearby, the kind of smell that made your stomach rumble in anticipation.

the house itself was two stories, painted in a soft white that reflected the sun’s warmth. but it wasn’t just white—it was touched with dabs of his favorite color. that dear green of his, the one that reminded you of life and renewal, stained the edges of the house in delicate patterns, blending into the scenery in a way that felt right, not overdone. the front steps led up to a porch where a swing swayed gently, waiting for the two of you to sit on it together, watching the sky stretch out before you. lamps stood at every corner, offering light even in the house’s darkest moments, casting a glow that felt as comforting as his presence beside you.

inside, the hallway stretched long, tiled floors echoing the soft sound of your footsteps. at the end of the hall, the bathroom sat to the right, perfectly positioned for convenience, though you barely noticed those details now. the front door led to the stairs, winding up to the second floor where your future awaited. through the door at the end of the hallway, the kitchen and living room intertwined, open and welcoming. only a small, dainty dining table separated the two spaces, enough to give the illusion of division but keeping the warmth of the home intact.

it was a place meant for sharing, for filling with memories. you could already picture yangyang sprawled across the couch, controllers in hand, keeping déjùn company when you were too busy. the boys would all gather here, because it was home. it wasn’t just a house—it was the place he had always needed, filled with laughter and warmth, with the scent of lilies and bread and the sound of friends filling the space with life. the first time he saw it, his eyes welled up, and he broke down again, not in pain this time, but in pure, unfiltered joy. you cried with him, standing there on the porch, the two of you holding each other in the doorway of the life you had built together. it was everything he had ever wanted, and it was given to him by the only person he had ever truly needed.

you stood by the stove, the warm, cozy glow of the kitchen wrapping around you like a familiar hug. the room was your sanctuary, every little detail curated to your liking, but there were traces of déjùn everywhere. a coffee mug he always used, a soft green tea towel he’d picked out, even the way the pots were arranged had his influence. it was a constant reminder that he was always there, woven into every corner of your life. you could feel him in the air, in the way the sun filtered through the windows, and in the gentle way the house creaked, as though it was alive with both of your memories.

you were making one of his favorites—peanut noodles with chili crisp. the rich scent filled the air as you prepped, hands working deftly, slicing and mixing with a practiced ease. a batch of iced green tea waited for him in the fridge, the condensation slowly forming on the glass, just the way he liked it. everything you did for him was done with care, every detail proving the love that pulsed through you. it had always been this way. every action, every gesture, was imbued with a purpose, because everything you did was for him.

you were so immersed in it, focused on the rhythm of your movements, that you hadn’t heard him come in. he stood there, just behind you, watching quietly. he didn’t want to intrude, but the scent had drawn him in, and now the sight of you convinced him to stay. you looked so pretty. your hair was tied up in a loose bun, strands falling just out of place, framing your face in a way that made you glow. your brows furrowed in concentration, your lips, soft and pink, pouted just slightly as you worked. a pink apron tied neatly at your back over your sundress, making you look both delicate and capable all at once. you were perfect.

he couldn’t believe he had you—couldn’t believe that someone so good, so kind, was his. the sight of you, standing there in your shared kitchen, cooking for him in a house that may not have been made by you, but had been turned into a home because of you. the thought of anyone else seeing you like this, of anyone else getting even a glimpse of you, stirred something possessive deep inside him. no one deserved that. no one but him.

you didn’t notice his presence until you felt it—his warmth, his breath ghosting over your ear, so close it made the hairs on your neck stand up. your body tensed for a moment, but then you softened, melting into his familiar touch. a smile tugged at your lips as you felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you close. “everything okay?” you murmured, your voice soft, your expression relaxed now that he was near. his arms tightened around you, and you felt his face press into the crook of your neck, the closeness sending a wave of warmth over you.

your voice was like honey to him, sweet and soothing. you felt so small in his grasp, so helpless in the best way possible. his presence was overwhelming in the most intoxicating way, and you loved it. he made you feel safe but also powerless, as though the mere act of him holding you was enough to remind you who you belonged to. “i love you so much,” déjùn murmured against your skin, his voice low, breath hot as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your voice shaky, hands trembling slightly around the knife you still held. the sensation of his lips on your neck, the possessiveness of his hold, it was too much. you didn’t even realize how much your hands were shaking until his fingers, large and sure, gently closed around yours, guiding the knife out of your grip and setting it on the counter. his touch was careful, but there was no mistaking the dominance in it. he took your hand into his, long fingers wrapping around your much smaller ones, grounding you.

“i'm almost done, okay?” you asked, trying to steady your breath, trying to focus on anything but the heat pooling low in your stomach.

his response was a quiet, “i'm not patient enough,” his voice was gravelly, deeper now, filled with something darker, as his lips found the curve of your neck again. this time, he didn’t stop. “i'm not patient enough to resist you,” he said, his words sending a fresh wave of heat through you.

before you could respond, his hands were on your hips, gripping you firmly as he turned you around in one fluid motion. a surprised yelp escaped your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by the intensity of his gaze. his fingers spread over your thighs, slipping under the hem of your dress, teasingly close to where you were already aching for him. he lifted you effortlessly, and instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist. “so pretty,” déjùn murmured, his voice soft but filled with adoration as he pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek, his lips wet and warm. “aren't you?”

you were flushed, the heat creeping up from your chest to your face, and all you could do was nod, unable to form coherent words as his lips found yours. the kiss wasn’t hurried or sloppy; it was purposeful. his lips moved against yours with a confidence that made your knees weak, though you didn’t need to stand. he was holding you, carrying you with ease as he walked, never breaking the kiss as he made his way up the stairs.

by the time you reached the bedroom, your breathing had quickened, but he was steady, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world. he kicked the door open with his foot, crossing the threshold with a grin that made your heart flutter. when he laid you down on the bed, his body hovered over yours, his hands trailing down to your thighs once more. his touch was electric, and all you could do was let yourself melt into him, the weight of the world disappearing as his lips claimed yours again.

the kiss deepened, his lips moving slowly, deliberately, as if savoring each moment, each taste of you. his hands, though gentle, had a strength that made you feel small beneath him, yet cherished. his fingers, impossibly long and deft, found the apron tied over your dress, pulling at the knot with ease. the fabric loosened and fell away, forgotten, as his attention shifted to the way your knees bent, your legs spreading just slightly, enough for him to notice the hitch in your breath.

his eyes followed the movement, lingering where your dress had bunched up, revealing the soft cotton of your pink panties. his gaze dropped to the faint dampness staining the fabric, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. his thumb traced the outline of your swollen lips, his touch feather-light but sending a ripple of anticipation through your body.

“what do you want, baby?” his voice was low, almost a whisper, as his thumb pressed lightly against your bottom lip. the question hung in the air between you, heavy and full of promise, but the words you wanted to say tangled in your throat. you let out a small, pathetic whimper, your mouth parting slightly as his thumb pushed past your lips, pressing against your tongue.

“you know i’ll give my girl whatever she wants if she uses her words, right?” he murmured, his tone teasing but affectionate, the dark timber of it wrapping around you like a velvet rope. his thumb pressed deeper, your lips wrapping around the knuckle as you instinctively closed your mouth around him. the weight of his finger, the intimacy of it, made your breath hitch, a broken sound escaping your throat as you struggled to find your voice. you nodded, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as his thumb pressed further into your mouth, deeper until it filled the space, until he was satisfied. your teeth grazed lightly against his skin as you tried to speak around him, your voice muffled, rasping out a soft, desperate plea. “want you, xiao, please.”

his eyes darkened at your words, his free hand cupping your cheek as his thumb finally withdrew, leaving you gasping for breath. his gaze roamed over your face, taking in the tears clinging to your lashes, the flush of your cheeks, the way your lips were swollen and parted. his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tear that had slipped free, his lips curving into a gentle smile that didn’t quite reach the hunger in his eyes. “god, you’re too much,” he murmured, his voice thick with something darker, something possessive. his hand slipped down to your waist, fingers skimming the sensitive skin just above your panties. your breath hitched again, the sensation of his fingers so close to where you needed him most almost unbearable.

déjùn's knuckle grazed over your clothed pussy, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure through you that made your nails dig into his arm. your fingertips brushed against the prominent veins running down his forearm, feeling his pulse beneath your touch. you were aching, desperate for more, but just when you thought he'd finally give you what you craved, he stopped. the loss of contact made your body tense with frustration, and you pouted, your lips parting in disappointment. he caught your expression and smiled, his fingers stroking the soft skin of your thigh. his touch was gentle, teasing, as he asked, “can you do something for me?”

you nodded eagerly, desperate for him to stop teasing, to finally get on with what you both so clearly wanted. “take everything off,” he said, his voice low, thick with desire, “and put your apron back on.”

the request caught you off guard, a moment of surprise flashing in your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the way your body responded to the thought. the sight of you in nothing but the apron—cooking for him, being his—was enough to drive him insane. it made you feel delicate, pretty, like you belonged to him completely. you could feel your pulse quickening at the idea, the excitement building as you imagined how his gaze would devour you.

standing on the bed, your hands trembled slightly as you reached for the hem of your sundress. déjùn was on his knees beneath you, his hands gently guiding you, helping to pull the fabric over your head. his lips followed the path of your dress as it lifted, leaving soft, lingering kisses down your stomach, his nose brushing against your skin. when the fabric pooled at your feet, his lips reached the top of your thighs, kissing just above your panties, his breath warm against the sensitive skin. the ache between his legs was becoming unbearable, the sight of you, the taste of your skin—it was overwhelming. hos hands slid up the back of your thighs, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh, gripping you like he never wanted to let go.

your hands were shy, hesitant, as you reached behind your back to unhook your bra. the strap loosened, and déjùn’s hands were quick to pull it down, his eyes dark with desire as the material fell away. he leaned upward, his lips finding the bare skin of your breast, his tongue darting out to trace slow, tantalizing circles around your nipple. a soft moan escaped your lips, your back arching slightly as his mouth closed over you, sucking gently. “keep going, baby,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot against your nipple. his voice was low, laced with hunger, urging you on.

you did as you were told, your fingers trembling as you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your thighs. déjùn's mouth left your breast, but his hand replaced it, groping and tugging at the sensitive flesh as he shifted his attention lower. he was utterly entranced by the sweet smell of your core, the way your body trembled as you exposed yourself to him. his free hand moved to spread your thighs apart, his fingers gentle but firm, guiding you to open for him. his lips brushed against your inner thigh, trailing soft kisses as he moved closer to where you needed him most. you could feel his breath hot against your folds, his nose grazing your entrance, teasing you, making you shake beneath his touch.

“xiao—” you began to beg, your voice a broken whisper, but he cut you off with a soft shush, his lips brushing against your thigh as he did. the vibration of his voice shot straight through you, making your core tighten in anticipation. “almost there,” he murmured, his voice soft, soothing, but full of promise. you let out a small whimper, your hips shifting slightly, aching for him to stop teasing. but instead of giving in, he licked a slow, deliberate stripe up your thigh, his nose brushing dangerously close to your core without touching. he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of your arousal, and it took everything in him to resist the temptation to devour you.

you reached for the apron, your hands shaking as you pulled it over your head, the thin straps tightening around your neck as you adjusted it. déjùn pulled back just enough to watch, his eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over your body. the front of the apron barely covered you, the fabric tight around your waist, your breasts spilling out from the sides. from his angle, your core was still exposed, and the sight made his breath hitch.

with a groan, he reached for you, his hands gripping your hips as he turned you around, his gaze taking in the sight of your ass peeking out from the back of the apron. his fingers trembled slightly as he hastily tied the strings behind you, pulling you back down onto the bed. “you drive me insane,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his hands gripping you firmly as he tugged the knot tight.

déjùn laid you down gently on your back, his body hovering over yours, and for a moment, the world felt still. his lips found yours in a kiss so soft, so slow, that it made your heart stutter. his eyes scanned over you, lingering on the way the apron clung to your body, leaving so much exposed yet teasingly hidden. “you like it?” you asked shyly, your voice barely a whisper, your breath catching as his gaze turned heavy with desire.

without a word, his hands shot up, grabbing your breasts where they spilled shamelessly out of the apron’s sides, kneading them with an intensity that made your entire body flush with heat. “so much,” he groaned, his voice thick with hunger. “look so perfect, so pretty. the prettiest wife.” your breath hitched, a soft whimper escaping your lips as his words sank into you. but it was what he said next that made your body tremble, made the air in the room feel heavier, thicker. “you’ll be an even prettier mommy.”

the thought made you squirm beneath him, your thighs pressing together instinctively as his hands worked over your body. the idea of being his—entirely, fully, and forever—drove him wild. he didn’t just want you. he wanted to claim you, to breed you, to see you swollen with the weight of his children. the thought of you, plump and heavy with his seed, your belly round and your breasts full, helpless and tender for him—he needed it. he could already picture it: kissing your feet to soothe your exhaustion, cradling your swollen belly, watching you as you moved around his home, his perfect, precious wife. it was the most enchanting image, one that fueled the fire already burning inside him.

“gonna let me make you one, yeah?” his voice was soft, almost a plea, though there was nothing but certainty in his eyes. even with the unbearable strain in his pants, he was patient, waiting for your answer. “yeah,” you murmured, your voice shaking with need, “put a baby in me.” you would give him whatever he wanted because you wanted it just as much, maybe even more. the thought of being his, completely his, sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel the tension building inside him, the way his body shuddered at your words.

a grunt escaped him as he pushed your knees to your chest, spreading you wide open for him. his head dipped between your thighs, and instead of diving in like you expected, he pressed his face into your core, breathing you in deeply. his groan reverberated through your body, and your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as you moaned. he had no idea just how wet you were, how ready you were for him. your slick clung to his nose and cheeks as he nuzzled deeper, the heat of his breath and the pressure of his face sending waves of pleasure through your core. you could feel the wetness slipping down your thighs, soaking his skin, and it only made you need him more.

“you’re making a mess, baby,” he grunted, his voice rough as his hands kneaded your thighs, fingers tracing the edge of the apron. “fuck, getting me all fucking dirty.” your response was nothing more than a pitiful whine, your body arching beneath him, lips parting as tears welled in your eyes from the overwhelming need for more. the sensation of his face pressed against you, his nose grazing your clit, was driving you mad.

then, his tongue flicked out, wrapping around your clit with a precision that made you see stars. he sucked at it gently at first, teasing you, then harder, his lips closing over your entire core. his tongue darted out, licking up and down your slit, collecting every bit of your juices, savoring the taste of you. “too much,” you shuddered, your voice barely a whisper as you tried to hold back. “wanna cum on your dick, please.”

you could beg all you liked, but déjùn was as mean as he was generous. he didn’t listen, didn’t stop. his pace quickened, his nose pressing into your clit while his tongue worked over your folds, licking up the slick that dripped down your thighs. you tasted so sweet, so familiar, and the more he tasted, the more he wanted. your core throbbed beneath his touch, your walls tightening as the pleasure built, unbearable, almost too much. you whimpered as he slipped a finger inside you, curling it, hitting that soft, spongy spot that made you cry out.

you sobbed quietly, the sensation overwhelming, your body on the brink of release. but just when you thought you’d fall over the edge, he pulled away. the loss of his mouth, of his touch, left you trembling, a frustrated whine escaping your lips. he was so mean. so mean. but then, his face softened, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your mouth. his chin was slick with your juices, his breath hot against your lips, and his fingers brushed away the tears that had spilled from your eyes.

“gonna stretch you out so good,” he groaned against your mouth, his words laced with promise, with need. “baby’s gonna pop right out once i’m done with you.” the taste of your arousal lingered on your tongue as his lips moved over yours, his hands roaming your body, his touch firm yet tender. you could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body trembled with restraint as he hovered above you, his cock hard and aching against your thigh.

he made you watch as he peeled his clothes away, but you would’ve watched either way. how could you not? how could you look away, when he looked so good? his dark hair clung to his forehead, slick with sweat. in fact, he was sweaty all around. his chin and fingers were still wet with your arousal, but every other part of him was wet with sweat, and he’s never looked better. what really had your attention was his boxers, the sight of the tip of his cock peeking out from the top, hard and angry, pressing against his abs, eager to escape its confinement.

he chuckled as he watched your concentration, disrupting your thoughts. it only encouraged him to continue, tugging his boxers down his thighs eagerly. he let out a shameless groan as his cock collided with his stomach, upright and hard to the touch, the cool air grazing it and flooding him with temporary relief. he was so big, so so big, and you would never get used to it. every vein was prominent, blue clashing with the angry shade of red his cock was, begging for attention in every way. he seemed smug, pleased with how shocked you were as he took your frail hand and wrapped it around the base.

“oh, fuck,” he growled at the feeling of your fingers wrapped around him so generously. you looked up at him with doe eyes, innocent and sweet as if you weren’t a filthy mess for him. you stroked him from the base of his cock to the tip, your thumb dancing around the slit where pre-cum had started dribbling down his shaft. you savored the sounds he was making as you collected his seed with your thumb, releasing his dick just to plop your thumb into your mouth. he watched with a sinister gaze as your lips wrapped around your finger, sucking off the salty mess he was starting to make.

just like that, it was over. he pushed your knees up to your chest once more, eyes glazing over your weeping cunt a final time as he grabbed his dick, alligning it with your cunt. you could feel the tip against your clit, rock hard and thick as he tapped it against your pussy. “xiao, please, need you to fuck me,” you begged through unshed tears. you were about to press down against him, to stir up the smallest bit of friction, but he was mean. he held your hip down with his free hand, just to release his dick from his other one.

then, it unfolded before you could predict it. his free hand came down against your pussy, harsh and unforgiving with a squelch as his palm collided with a smack. your hips stuttered at the pain and sinful pleasure as a tear fell down your cheek, the weight of his cruel gaze unmatched. he spread his fingers in front of your face with a subtle smirk. “see how wet you are?” he cooed, gesturing to the slick dripping down his palm. “see how wet i make you?” all you could do was nod, too ashamed and too desperate to talk. he was plased, all too pleased with just how abused your cunt looked from a single slap.

it urged him on, encouraging him to bring his cock right back to your core. this time, there was no teasing. he would so generously give you what you were looking for, no matter how much it hurt—and it definitely hurt. no matter how many times he fucked you, no matter how hard, you would never adjust to his size. you moaned in synchronization as he eased his dick past your folds, your walls clamping down on him the second he entered you. you could feel every inch, every vein and every pulse. it was raw, it was painful, and it felt too good.

his eyes locked with yours as he slammed into you, the sound of your moans and the slap of his skin against yours echoing in the room. your tits bounced with every thrust, smacking against your chin as your knees were forced into your chest. you felt so full, so used, so utterly owned by this man. and yet, you craved more. “deeper,” you panted, your nails digging into the bed as your body begged for release. “deeper, xiao, need more.” he would oblige, he wanted it more than you did. he was determined to put a baby in you.

his strokes grew more erratic, his breaths shallower as he fucked you like it was his life's mission. your eyes never left his, the connection between you palpable. his cock was like a piston, relentlessly plunging into your tight pussy, hitting that spot that made you scream his name with every thrust. your walls quivered around him, desperately trying to keep him in, to keep that feeling forever. “this pussy was made for my cock, yeah?” he slurred, circling his hips before slamming right back into you. tears slid down your cheeks at the sensation of it, you wanted to be owned by him.

his hand tightened around your hip, his other gripping your chin to force your gaze up to his. “tell me how much you love it, baby. tell me how much you want my cum inside you,” he demanded, his voice thick with need. and you did, you told him just how much you loved it, how much you needed it. you begged him to fill you up, to breed you, to make you his. “fill me up with your cum, dont let any spill out,” you begged through your tears as they coated his hand. “get me pregnant, knock me up, xiao—fuck—” he was relentless, absolutely relentless with his hands on your knees, pushing you back to let him go deeper, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass as he threw his head back with a groan.

you watched as his abs tensed, his cock thickening even more as he picked up his pace. the smack of skin on skin grew louder, your moans turning into screams as he hit your sweet spot over and over again. it was agonizingly beautiful, the way his body moved with yours, the way your cunt clamped down on him as he drove deeper, the way your tits jiggled with every thrust. you felt yourself getting closer, your walls tightening around his dick, the pressure building. he was gonna breed your cunt, make an oven out of your pussy.

his thumb found your clit, rubbing it in firm circles as he fucked you harder, the friction setting your nerves alight. “i’m gonna cum,” you gasped, your voice high and desperate. “i’m gonna cum on your cock, xiao.” he grunted, his hips slamming into you, his own orgasm just as imminent. “yes, baby, cum for me,” he whispered, his eyes dark with lust. “cum all over me, show me how much you want it.” and just like that, you did. your body tensed, your back arched, and a scream tore from your throat as your pussy spasmed around his cock, clenching tight as you came harder than you ever had before.

his rhythm didn't falter, though. if anything, it grew more intense, more punishing. “not yet,” he said, his voice strained. “i’m not done with you.” his thumb kept working your clit, pushing you into another orgasm, and another, until your cries were nothing but desperate pleas for mercy. but mercy wasn't something déjùn knew how to give, not when he had you like this, not when he could feel you milking him, begging for his seed.

his eyes were wild with lust, his pupils blown wide as he watched you come undone beneath him. “you’re gonna take every drop,” he promised, his strokes growing shallower as he chased his own release. “you’re gonna be pregnant with my baby, you're gonna carry it and grow it and push it out just for me.” the thought sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement that had you trembling all over.

his thumb never left your clit, even as his hips stuttered, his cock pulsing with the beginnings of his orgasm. “xiao,” you whispered, “i’m gonna—” but he silenced you with a kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting the salt of your tears and the sweetness of your cries. he groaned against your lips, his hand leaving your chin to wrap around the base of his cock as he pushed in one final, deep thrust. you felt the warmth of his cum fill you, the pressure building until it was almost too much. your eyes rolled back in your head as your body was hit with a final wave of pleasure, his seed spilling into your womb. “yes,” you chanted, your voice muffled by his mouth. “yes, yes, yes—”

his body tensed above you, his muscles tight as he emptied himself inside you. his cock jerked, pulsing, and you could feel every drop of his cum coating your insides. when he finally pulled out, a string of it followed, connecting his cock to your pussy before snapping, leaving a trail of white on your skin. “so good,” he murmured, kissing down your neck as his hands softened on your hips. “so fucking good.” he was pleased, too pleased. all with the sight of your pussy coated in white—coated in his white.

✧

a/n: what would you do if when you okay so he said yes would GO 💜 thank you for requesting ily

[vividwritinglove]

Mile High Club - Carlos Sainz

I was inspired by Carlos' Instagram story 😂 enjoy!

pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader

warning: smut

word count: 1.5K

____________________________________________

"What are you doing?" you ask Carlos as he busily types away on his cell phone. You see that he's composing a text and wonder what he's so meticulously writing down.

"I'm giving my followers on Instagram, some tips on how to prevent a jet lag."

You and Carlos are currently on a flight from Madrid to Dubai, then transferring to another plane to Melbourne. You usually accompany Carlos to race weekends in Europe, as the short distances are clearly more pleasant to travel. You've only flown long-haul twice before, and that never in First Class. The comfort or rather luxury made the long flight a lot more pleasant.

"Which would be?" you inquire with interest, putting your book aside and leaning in further towards him. You two share a cabin. Somehow, it's disconcerting that despite the number of passengers on board, you were able to be so private and secluded. On top of that, your little compartment was very cozy.

"You can read all about it in my story..." he mumbles as he continues typing.

You pull a pout. All you wanted was some attention and affection from your boyfriend. Carlos has always been very reserved and especially in public. He loves you, more than anything in the world, but physical touch is not his love language compared to yours. He loves spending time with you, but hugging, caressing and kissing you in front of everyone is just not his thing. He is loving and caring, but only ever in your private togetherness.

"I want you to explain it to me though..." you continue to pout and start a new attempt to get Carlos' undivided attention. He looks up at you from his phone and sees you leaning in close, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Oi, cariño! Don't look at me like that..."

"How am I looking at you?"

"Please just don't..."

You fall dramatically back in your seat and cross your arms in front of your chest. Again, there's that pout and this time it's justified.

Carlos groans a little annoyed, but then relents. "So..." he begins, explaining his stay-awake method for the first flight. You watch him closely. In everything he does, he is always so passionate. Even if it's just about a simple Instagram post. When Carlos talks, it's always with his hands. His long and talented fingers which he knows exactly how to use. Your gaze wanders to his face and gets stuck on his lips. His full and beautiful lips.

He is such a good kisser. You'd love to fall around his neck right now and nibble on that plump lower lip. Just as he's telling you about the importance of light conditions, you're done. You put your hand on his thigh and it completely throws him off his game. He looks at your hand and then back at you. He knows this look all too well and has to swallow hard, "Mi amor, please...".

Innocently you look at him and have that smug grin on your lips, "Go ahead!".

Nervously, he shifts in his seat, making sure no one can look into your separate compartment. He clears his throat and tries to remember the last point on his list. Which is getting harder and harder as your hand continues to move up until it's on his crotch. Carlos puts his head in the back of his neck and moans a little excited. Within a few seconds he is hard, this can be clearly felt under the fabric of his jeans. You take your other hand to it and open his pants with skillful grips, "I know another method to keep you awake.".

"Ay, Dios mio..." he moans out as you finally reach into his boxers, freeing his hard cock and gently taking it in your hand. With an animalistic look, he looks at you. His pupils so dilated that barely any of his amber iris can be seen. His hands grip the armrests of his seat even tighter and his hips jerk eagerly towards your hand. Now he is addicted to your touch and wants you to intensify your movements.

"Please don't stall me like this..." he literally begs you, whispering so that the passengers around you don't notice anything, or at least as little as possible. You smile triumphantly and slide off your seat to kneel between his legs. The sight of his cock excites you too and without hesitation you take him in your mouth.

Carlos bites his lower lip at this contact to prevent a loud groan. A rumble escapes his throat, this only sports you further on.

Carlos is big, too big to take him completely into your mouth. You struggle until you feel him deep in your throat. Tears shoot into your eyes as Carlos rhythmically thrusts his hips forward. He holds your open hair together in a ponytail with his fist and now sets the rhythm. You give yourself to him and let him fuck your mouth. As loving as he is to you, he could also be dominant and you would be lying if you said you didn't like it at all.

Carlos is getting closer to an orgasm, but he doesn't want to cum in your mouth. "Come here." he prompts you and pulls your mouth from his cock. Now you look at him a bit surprised. Neither he nor you are people who are quiet during sex, but Carlos is so driven by lust that he doesn't care about anything around him now. Hesitating slightly, you climb onto his lap and lean down to kiss him. Luckily you opted for a long wrap dress today with the springy temperatures in Madrid, so Carlos quickly pushes the skirt of the dress aside to get to your underwear.

"Already so wet for me?" he asks bluntly with his strong Spanish accent, which sounds as sexy as never before and grins cheekily. His fingers roam over the top of your thong, feeling how damp the fabric already is.

"You're rude." you admonish him in a whisper and kiss him greedily again to prevent a groan. Carlos immediately takes this chance and pushes your thong aside to enter you with his index and middle finger. His other hand fumbles with the bow of your wrap dress and opens it. In front of him the sight of your slightly transparent lace bra. Then he puts his hand on the back of your head, so you don't have the chance to pull your head away from another kiss. You moan into his mouth during the kiss, fortunately this muffles all sounds from both of you.

Carlos barely gives you time to get used to his fingers and already withdraws them from you. Only to place his cock in front of your entrance. You want to feel him, you want him to fill you. Quickly you settle on him and take him inside you almost effortlessly. A familiar feeling for both of you, which you can never get enough of. You let your eyes roll back and begin to grind your hips. Carlo's hands linger on your hips to keep them as low as possible, so that he is deep inside you. Again he sets the rhythm and you bury, your face in the crook of his neck. The desire for each other and also joining the Mile High Club now, makes your adrenaline level rise higher.

"Carlos, I'm about to cum." you moan barely audible into his ear.

"A little more..." he murmurs back and you feel his hard grips on your hips. You increase your pace and feel the knot in your abdomen tighten. Your legs are already shaking and your breathing is also completely uncontrolled. Carlos watches you struggle with yourself, as you try to delay your orgasm. This only turns him on more. You both exchange intense glances, trying to admonish each other to not make any telltale sounds.

"Okay." he nods at you, out of breath.

"Okay?" you assure yourself and again Carlos nods at you in confirmation.

Carlos has already given you several breathtaking orgasms, but you can never remember one as intense as this one. You ride your high out on him completely and Carlos watches as you do. You look so damn sexy while doing it. This memory will stay with him forever. After your climax, you smile at each other. Carlos puts his hand lovingly in your neck and pulls you down to kiss you again. You are only too happy to return this tender kiss.

"I don't think anyone heard anything." you whisper against his lips after breaking away from the kiss.

"Even if they did..." grins Carlos mischievously and you slide off his lap, back into your seat. You both get dressed again and fix your hairstyles, in the small mirror in front of you.

"Maybe I should add the Mile High Club to my stay-awake-list." Carlos mumbles with another cheeky grin on his lips.

"And the company should better wear a dress..." you add, joining in his laughter.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

One More For Me

pairing: seungmin x reader

warnings: sub seungmin, dom reader, boypussy seungmin bc i'm in a brainrot, gn reader, overstimulation, puppy seungmin, mirror sex, possibly more

wc: abt 1.5k

a/n: this is pretty shit, i was studying and couldn't get this out of my mind so wrote it in like twenty minutes just to get it out of my system so sorry for the crappy grammar and anything that might sound a little funny😭

"I-i can't~" He cries beneath your touch, tears welling up in his eyes, taking on a glassy sheen while somehow managing to still look so pretty you can hardly stand it.

(And so fucked up and so ruined, but those are the less holy thoughts that run through you're mind.)

It's not fair.

How heart-achingly gorgeous he looks.

How his face contorts in pleasure so abashedly. How his mouth falls open, panted out moans bouncing around the four walls of your bedroom. How his bite-covered body makes you feel all sorts of feral you can't even begin to control yourself.

How his abused pussy, stretched out and used thoroughly from tonights activities glistens in the low lighting of the lamp in the corner of the room. How an ever-growing damp spot dirties the sheets below him, getting bigger and messier with every orgasm you've ripped from the poor thing.

"C'mon," you whisper, saccharine and innocent. "You can do it, you're okay."

Your encouragement makes him clench around the toy, making it harder for you to continue thrusting it into him at the damaging pace you had been.

“T-too full,” you kiss over his sweat-soaked, bitten neck, nibbling on his collarbone and tonguing over his jawline. "C-can't,"

You ignore him this time, just like you've ignored his pleas from the last time you made him cum and the time before that and the time before that. Ignored his whines and moans, his useless pawing at the hand that steadily pushes the dildo in and out of him.

He knows his safeword. Knows he can use it anytime he wants to. And he hasn't.

Hasn't because he knows just as well as you do how much he really loves this. Even if he says otherwise.

So your thumb still rubs quick harsh circles around his clit, all red and swollen from your rough touches.

You could almost feel bad for him but then his pretty moans fill the room again and you can't bring yourself to. When he makes that sound all you can do is feel pride to be the one making him do it.

You look at him in the mirror across from you, hanging on the wall across from the bed. Him laying in your lap, back pressed against your chest, legs pinned wide open to leave his most vulnerable parts on display for you.

His glassy eyes meet your gaze in a kind of clash and you finally acknowledge him with a crooked grin. Your pupils are wide with lust, lip caught between your teeth as for a quick second your eyes flash down before they're back on him. “You can do it, one more, one for me puppy, one more because you're a good boy."

He's trembling. Shaking like a leaf in your hold, and even though it's cruel, even though maybe you're being mean, you know he's enjoying it just as much as you do, if not, more.

So when his thighs clamp shut around your arm you're merciless to grip them, solid and firm as you pull his legs apart and pin them with your own.

"Stay still puppy, be good."

It isn't fair.

Isn't fair that you're so calm and composed, attention focused solely on him while, hand working quickly-too quickly for his clouded mind to fully catch up, the sound of wet squelching filling the room, god he's fucking soaked.

He can't help it, can't help the way he shifts, pushing it deeper inside of him, gasping pornographically as the movement pushes the fake cock snug against that special spot that has his chest rising with a harsh gasp, his eyes squeeze shut, bursts of light exploding behind his eyelids.

"F-fuck!"

It's not fair.

You're cooing to him, crooning into his ear, too normal, too collected compared to his body, his arms which feel completely numb as they weakly grasp at yours, he can barely feel them, barely feel anything besides being so deliciously, amazingly full.

But you hiss for him to open his eyes and he can see in his reflection, see the way he's hardly gripping to reality.

How many times has he already cum at this point? Four-five? Six even?

He doesn't know, he stopped counting after two in which he could barely remember his own name much less remember how to count.

"C-can't do it any-anymore~" He whimpers, but his body says otherwise, overstimulated and pushed to the edge over and over and over again but still working against you, hips still endlessly working to swallow the dildo in your hand.

"But you'll do it for me, won't you puppy? I'll be so proud if you do, be my good boy?" You say it so hopefully, as if you have the utmost confidence in him.

He doesn't want to disappoint you, he can't disappoint you, he'd rather die, rather let you make him cum until you've finally used him all up, which you are on your way to doing.

He can't stop until you're proud of him, until he's earned it.

So all he does is let out a pathetic sob, nodding shakily.

"Good boy~" You turn his head and catch his lips into a kiss, rough and desperate, breaking past the seal of his lips and making a mess of drool and saliva.

Tongue and teeth and nipping,

He's not like this-fuck he's not like this, he's normally so composed and so normal.

You do this to him.

You make him like this.

All horny and needy and desperate. Like some kind of sexual deviant that can't think of anything but being filled up and stretched to the brim, fucked hard and deep until he's completely dumb and seeing stars.

You had stuffed him with a plug this morning, before he went to work and wear it all day.

Your poor puppy had had to suppress his noises all throughout day, whenever he sat down or so much as shifted the wrong way. He was so wet, so needy. He couldn't stop thinking of you, thinking of all the ways you'd fuck him that night, the different things you would do to him, maybe you'd even pull out his leash and collar if he was good.

Those thoughts along with the way it shifted inside of him as he walked was nearly enough to push him over the edge. It was a wonder that he somehow was able to keep composure.

And then you had texted him, asking him to send you a picture of it.

Inside of him.

For confirmation, your text said, that he was being a good boy and keeping it in.

He was sure he was face was on fire when he'd excused himself, quickly walking to the bathroom and locking the door behind him, looking around, paranoid, as he pulled down his pants and his ruined panties.

He'd make you buy him more for this. And you happily would. Before you ruined that pair and the cycle would repeat.

Even though he knew he was completely alone he still looked both ways for what felt like the fifth time before he pulled out his phone, pressing the red record button.

You'd done this to him.

Turned him into someone that would record a video of him touching himself, muffled whimpers as he pulled the plug out tortuously slow, for your benefit only and then, little by little, groaning at the stretch, pushed it back in.

You turned him into someone that jumped on you the second you walked through the door, wearing nothing but your shirt and nearly crying for you to fuck him. Grabbing your hand and shoving it between his legs, whining as your fingers slid through his dripping folds

Turned him into someone who fucking whines and begs for more when you call him puppy in that husky voice, raspy with lust...and god, god.

"Please! Please!"

"Please what baby?"

"Please, s-so fucking needy!" He sobs, nails digging crescents into your skin. "I-...puppy needs to be fucked, needs to be fucked until...until…" he trails off dumbly and a smile sits smugly on your face, thrusts achingly slow, dragging so good against his clenching walls.

You look at him expectantly in the mirror, looking like you want him to continue, like you won't continue until he does. "Fuck me until I can't walk and I can't remember my own name! Make me yours, make me your puppy~"

That cruel smirk that he loves and hates and fears and adores spreads across your face, promising pain and pleasure and things beyond his wildest dreams.

"Oh I will, puppy." You fingers press hard against his clit, shoving the toy so deep inside him he gasps, unable to comprehend the small bulge it creates on his tummy.

Your fingers touch it in lustful fascination, voice growing low and gravelly. “Cum.”

And for the however many times it's been today, his vision goes white as he spasms around it, mewling quietly, as you force his face to look at his reflection once more, demanding that he watch himself fall apart.

And then for the however many times it's been today you continue without a hitch, kissing over his neck and whispering: "one more for me puppy." once again.

--

taglist is open now here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @d7dream @shincode, @lemonhongjoong, @imsolovelylovely, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteerr, @lino-jagiyaa

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part twenty-nine: "The Questions Over Coffee"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Matt discuss a few things over coffee.

Or

You feel like you're about to throw up trying to ask Matt something important. What he asks you in return leaves you breathless.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 2.4k

a/n: This is fluffy fluff, friends! But important note here: in this series I have created a family for Reader (as discussed previously with my AO3 readers) so that we can have holiday fluff and a road trip and flight with Matt. No matter what I do, I cannot fit this story to absolutely every individual reading it, but I try VERY hard to do my best. That being said, I've made it so you can either pretend Reader really is biologically related to this family in the story, or you can pretend she was adopted at birth. I will always do my best to make it so y'all can view it either way. Anyway, you can find all of the installments on tumblr here and I hope you enjoy!

Fingers tapping along the white ceramic coffee mug, you nervously chewed your lip. Matt was sitting across from you in the coffee shop booth; today he was wearing a sweater that somehow clung perfectly to the muscles in his arms and his chest. For the hundredth time this morning you wondered how this perfect man could possibly exist, and for the hundredth time this morning that had your nerves increasing. 

Matt, though, had his left arm slung over the backrest of the bench looking completely relaxed. Not for the first time you envied how he always looked so calm and composed. Foot tapping a little restlessly under the table, your eyes followed Matt’s hand as it raised his mug to his lips. You watched as he drank down more coffee, his tongue slipping out to lick his lips as he gradually lowered the cup back to the table.

“Is there a reason you're so nervous?” he asked curiously. “Or did they accidentally put a few extra shots of espresso into your latte this morning?”

You shot him a strained smile, forcing your foot to stop tapping along the floor. “Sorry,” you muttered.

He tilted his head, one brow raising curiously back at you above his dark lenses from his place across the table. Your mouth opened again, about to bring up what you’d been wanting to ask him, but staring at his handsome face as he silently studied you only left you more nervous. You quickly chickened out and your mouth clamped shut again. Gaze dropping down to your mug, you nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

Matt chuckled from across the booth, shifting in his seat to lean forward towards you, his forearms resting on the table. “You’ve almost said something at least six times since we sat down fifteen minutes ago, sweetheart,” he teased. “Just say it.”

Of course he noticed with his fancy Devil senses. He always noticed everything. With a long, drawn out sigh, you tried to calm your nerves and just ask him.

“What are you–" you stopped short, shaking your head. "Or uh, do you want to–” you began again, pausing and wincing. Why was it so hard to ask him this? “I mean," you began a third time, trying to shove down your urge to vomit, "do you…have plans for Thanksgiving?” 

One of his fingers lightly tapped along the table, his head tilting a little more to the side. His glasses were blocking whatever expression was present in his eyes, making him harder to read. Your palms began to sweat against your coffee mug. 

“I mean, I know you usually go to Foggy’s big family thing at the butcher shop every year,” you continued in a rush, “and I’m guessing that’s what you’re planning to do this year, but I just thought I’d see if you maybe wanted to come with me for Thanksgiving this year?”

A slow smile spread across his lips, so warm it made you melt into the booth. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you quickly raised your mug to your lips, taking a drink as a way to distract yourself from the way he was beginning to make you feel even more flustered.

“You want me to go with you to Chicago?” he asked.

“I mean it’s not exactly Chicago,” you mumbled. “More of a suburb outside of Chicago.”

“To meet your family?” he clarified, the smile still present.

“Yes?” you answered nervously.

He slowly leaned back, resting along the back of the booth as his hand drew his mug to his mouth. Your stomach was twisting in nervous knots as you watched him take what felt like the world’s longest sip of coffee. Lowering the cup back to the table, he raised a brow at you behind the dark lenses.

“And how would we be getting there?” he asked.

“Uh, well, I usually just grab a flight,” you told him. Though you were already aware of the implication that Matt would probably hate an airport with his heightened senses. And a plane, for that matter. “Or I could rent a car and drive us,” you suggested. You frowned as you added, “Though it’s a little over a twelve hour drive.” And you figured Matt would also probably hate a road trip. With a sigh, your shoulders sagged and you shook your head. “You know what, forget I mentioned it,” you said.

“Well hang on here,” he quickly cut in. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go with you.”

“You’ve…never been on a plane though, Matt,” you pointed out. “Or been in an airport. And you hate leaving Hell’s Kitchen." You shook your head quickly, focusing back on bringing your mug to your mouth. "It’s a terrible idea, I’m sorry I brought it up. Don’t worry about it.”

“Sweetheart,” Matt said with a grin, “I’d love to spend Thanksgiving with you and your family. How long is the flight?”

You swallowed the sip of coffee, focusing back on him. “Just under three hours,” you answered.

The corner of his lip twitched downward so infinitesimally that you almost missed it. You shot him a pointed expression even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

“Matt, it’s fine,” you assured him. “That would probably be torture for you to sit on a plane for that long.”

“No,” he replied firmly, shaking his head. “I can handle a few hours on a plane for you, sweetie.”

“It’s also the additional time in the airport,” you reminded him. “Going through security, checking bags, waiting at the terminal. If a grocery store is already terrible for you, I can imagine an airport, filled with vastly more people and restaurants and lots of loud airplanes, would be sheer torture.”

“I can–can probably find a way to make it work,” he said.

Chewing your lip, you glanced down at your cup of coffee. You had done a little research ahead of time on something to help with the noise, at least. “There are noise reducing ear plugs besides noise canceling headphones,” you told him slowly. “I don’t know how much use they’d be, but I figured something that didn’t completely cut off your sense of hearing would be preferred. It might help with the noise in an airport and a plane, at least.” Clearing your throat you awkwardly admitted, “I already ordered you a pair. Figured maybe at the very least they might help with things like grocery shopping.”

When your attention returned to Matt before you, you saw him removing his glasses. Swallowing hard, he carefully folded them and set them on the table as he gazed back at you with such warmth and affection. 

“You looked into that?” he questioned you softly.

“I was trying to think of ways that might make it easier on you if you did come with,” you muttered. “You know, assuming you wanted to. When I saw the ear plugs I figured they might be worth a try in general when noise gets to be a bit much.” You shrugged lightly, gaze returning to your mug. “But I don’t really know how to help with the barrage of smells. Or how the change in air pressure might make you feel with, you know, your fancy Devil senses,” you admitted. 

Both of his hands reached across the table, searching for yours. Removing them from the still slightly warm cup of coffee, you placed them in his, your eyes focusing back on his face before you. He was smiling, that little dimple visible in his right cheek as his eyes creased at the corners. 

“I love you,” he stated firmly. 

“I love you, too,” you replied immediately.

Hands still holding yours, he drew them just a bit along the table as he sat back more comfortably. His thumbs began gently rubbing along the backs of your hands.

“So who all would I be meeting at Thanksgiving?” Matt asked you.

Your heart beat a little faster at the implication of him accompanying you. “Uh, well, my sister Amber and her son Hudson, obviously,” you listed. “My brother Nathan should be flying back from Washington, though I’ll be honest, I can’t remember if he’s on or off with his girlfriend…Savannah?” you said, eyes narrowing as you tried to remember Nate’s girlfriend’s name. “Or Sarah? Honestly, I can’t keep up with him sometimes. Then obviously my parents and my grandmother will be there. And usually my dad’s brother and his wife fly out if their son doesn’t come home from college for Thanksgiving.” You winced as you added, “My aunt can be a bit… much , though.”

“Sounds like a big group of people, though not nearly as many as what Foggy has at his family Thanksgivings,” Matt mused, his thumbs still rubbing along the backs of your hands. “Seriously, it’s like the place is packed with Nelsons every year.”

“Oh, well, Christmas tends to be a bit bigger of an event,” you said with a laugh, your gaze focusing on both of your hands. “Usually lasts a few days. Almost everyone comes out for it–aunts, uncles, cousins, significant others, kids. My one uncle usually dresses as Santa for the kids. Makes a whole thing of it on Christmas Eve.”

“That sounds nice, actually,” Matt said quietly.

Your gaze returned to him, softening at the expression on his face. His own gaze was focused along your neck, his eyes full of emotion. 

“I uh, didn’t really have anything like that growing up,” he admitted. “Once my dad passed, I mean. We didn’t have turkey feasts on Thanksgiving at St. Agnes. And Christmas was only to celebrate the birth of Christ, not Santa bringing you presents.” A sad smile made its way onto his face as he continued. “It was always nice that Foggy’s family welcomed me for every holiday with open arms. That was the closest I’d gotten to celebrating holidays with a family in a long time.” He cleared his throat as your hands squeezed his. “So I uh, I appreciate you inviting me, sweetheart. And I’d gladly try flying to celebrate Thanksgiving with you and your family.”

“Maybe,” you began hesitantly, “you can join us for Christmas, too? If flying is too much, I’d be happy to drive us. It’d take a few days, but maybe we could make a little road trip out of it?”

A smile once again stretched over his mouth as he nodded. “I’d like that, if you’d all have me,” he answered.

“Are you kidding? My mom is probably going to hound you about marriage and children the moment you step in the door for Thanksgiving,” you told Matt with a slight cringe as he chuckled. “Which, I’m sorry in advance about. I wish I was exaggerating. But I know they’d want you at Christmas, too.” You gave his hands another reassuring squeeze. “They’ll love you, Matt.”

He raised one of your hands still enjoined with his to his mouth, his lips placing a kiss to the back of your hand. Your pulse quickened at the gesture, somehow still able to get nervous around him over something so small even after months of being together.

“You know,” Matt said slowly, lowering your hands back to the table, “if we’re discussing meeting family, there is one person you probably should meet.”

Licking your lips nervously, you gazed at him from across the table. Your heart was nervously hammering in your ears now having picked up its pace. “Yeah?” you asked.

“I know I have a sort of…unusual relationship with my mother,” Matt told you, “but I’d really like you two to meet. If you’re…open to that?”

“You–you want me to meet your mom?” you asked him incredulously.

He nodded slowly. “Yes,” he replied.

Matt asking you to meet his mom was a huge deal. You knew Karen and Foggy had barely ever interacted with her, and Matt didn’t talk about her much himself. He was generally quite private about personal things in his life, so the fact that he was willingly wanting to introduce you to her felt like a massive leap in your relationship. 

Even though, the thought of actually meeting his mother–the Catholic nun who, from Karen’s retelling, was quite intimidating–sounded terrifying as all hell. And on top of that, you weren’t even religious. Would she disapprove of you solely based on that? And if she did disapprove of you, would that affect what Matt felt for you?

“Hey,” Matt said gently, his hands gripping yours, “come back to me. I can practically taste your anxiety in the air. If you’re not comfortable with it you don’t have to.”

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, I’d–I’d like to meet your mom, Matt. It means a lot that you’d want us to meet. I’m just…nervous?” 

“You’ll be just fine, sweetheart,” he reassured you.

“But…what if she doesn’t like me?” you asked slowly. “I mean I’m not even Catholic and she’s a nun, that might already be points against me.”

Matt barked out a laugh, shaking his head at you. “Points against you? She’s not going to have some sort of score card, sweetie. Relax, it’ll be alright. Besides,” he said, “I’ve already told her about you.”

You immediately froze up in the booth, eyes going wide as you stared back at Matt. He’d already told his mom about you? His mom that he didn’t have a great relationship with because she abandoned him as a baby and then lied to him about actually being his mom for years after his father passed–he’d told her about you? 

“You’ve talked to your mom about me?” you asked in disbelief.

“Of course I have,” he answered immediately. “You’re my girlfriend and I love you. You’re a pretty big part of my life.”

It was probably there, in that exact moment, that it really hit you just how much you meant to the man sitting across from you. You felt breathless at that realization.

“So,” Matt began, a charming grin slipping across his handsome face, “would you like to meet my mom? Maybe next weekend, before all the holiday excitement and traveling?”

Still in a slight daze from your recent little realization, you nodded. “Yeah, Matt,” you breathily agreed. “I’d love to meet your mom.”

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

18| chapter twenty-four

listen to: Take me to church - Hozier | From Eden - Hozier | Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls (playlist here)

Please go look at the playlist, I revamped it all so you can read the chapters with the new songs and also maybe give your guesses of what's coming next given the songs?

word count: 2.4k

warnings: domestic violence. hurt.

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fi!!

Billy Hargrove had always known that love wasn’t for him. 

And then you came along. 

How you’d managed to rotate the axis of his world? He had no idea. But for the first time in his entire life, the perception of love wasn’t tainted, it wasn’t associated with damage, scream, and people leaving him behind. Instead, love now meant your kisses, your laughter, your smile. 

After leaving you home from the game, Billy didn’t go to the party. Instead, he drove home straight away, putting himself to use. He quickly took out a cassette and began to make you a mixtape. It wasn’t anything fancy, but he knew he wanted to give it to you first thing in the morning before finally being able to kiss you in front of everyone at school. 

Billy Hargrove wasn’t hollow and broken no more. 

At least, until he reached your locker the following day. His tongue edged out to wet his lips as he walked to your locker, cassette in hand and even a small bouquet he managed to get. He tried to compose himself, his heart was thudding a hundred miles per minute as he tried to think what he would say next, how you would react to him. 

But as he reached your locker, to see it empty his entire demeanor dropped. He frowned slightly, you could be a little late but you usually aren’t, not even when you were fighting you seemed like you couldn’t distract yourself from classes, you needed to maintain your GPA. Something’s wrong, he can feel it in his bones. 

Billy walked out of the school as fast as he possibly could, his eyes scanning the hallways and soon the classes trying to locate you. There isn’t any sign of you. His heart thuds a beat harder with each classroom that you aren’t in he checked as he returned to school, and soon he finds himself in the parking lot. 

Your bike is not there and the bell is already ringing on the back. Billy stayed still for a few seconds, his mind going miles per hour as he guessed what reason you had to not come to school. Had you regretted what happened the night before? No, you couldn’t. You were so happy with him, he knew that you were, and he could feel it. Had you become sick all of the sudden? No, he would’ve seen it in your face yesterday, you were anything but sick. Had your stepfather made you go back to Chicago? That was a long shot. 

The parking lot was already empty by the time Billy decided that he would go to your place. The place looked the same as it did yesterday but as Billy arrived, he could see a brown jeep getting out of your place. He frowned slightly, he recalled that you’d told him that your step-father would be out of town. 

Billy began to feel sick. 

He parked a few meters away from your house, something in his gut telling him to do it. Billy’s mind often went to a dark place some days, each time he saw a boy with a bruise, and a girl crying in the counselor's office. He often wondered if they’d found themselves in the same position he was in. 

He wished so badly he was wrong. 

The door to your place opened after a few knocks. Emily opened the door, her eyes widened at the sight of Billy and closed the door a little as she realized who she had stood in front of the door.

“Hey,” he said. Billy had spent days with you and her in the house, she was a little meek but as Billy took her in right now, he could see in her eyes the way she was somehow standing up for him. “Emily,”

“Billy,” she answered back, closing the door a little bit more. 

Billy’s eyes furrowed slightly as he leaned against the frame of the door, trying to seem aloof. “I was wondering if your sister was okay?”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Yeah, uhm, yeah,” she said as she looked down for a moment and then back at him. “She’s okay. She got a little sick and she decided to skip school,” 

“She’s alright?”

She nodded. “She’ll be okay in no time. She’ll call you later,” Emily answered as she started to close the door.

Billy’s hand flew to the edge of the door, stopping her. Emily frowned immediately, she seemed meek and small but her eyes were daggers as she glared at Billy. “Wait, I can’t see her?”

“No, she’s,” Emily hesitated as she looked back for a moment. Billy frowned. “asleep,”

It only made him more uneasy, the way she was avoiding looking him in the eye, the way she looked back. 

“And you’re skipping school so you can take care of her?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged. 

Billy took a deep breath. If you allowed your sister to skip school, Billy knew that you weren’t okay. All the times you’d talked about how much your sister meant to you, how important it was for you to allow her to have the best childhood so she wouldn’t turn like you. He gazed at the little girl in front of him and closed his eyes for a second. 

“Emily, I’m going to see your sister today,” Billy said calmly. “I can do it climbing through the window or through this door. You can decide,”

Emily’s eyes widened slightly but she quickly glared at him, straightened up, and was ready to fight Billy if she needed to. She was very protective, you’d always known that, as much as you took care of her, she also took care of you. You’d been listening to the conversation, hoping a call later that day would explain you’d the flu or something so Billy couldn’t come near you. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him. You just didn’t want him to see you like that, and yet he’d come to your place, skipping school together just for you. 

You sighed. 

“Emily,” you called for her from your room. Billy’s and Emily’s heads snapped towards the second floor of the house, Billy felt a little bit easier, hearing you. “You can let him in,”

Emily bit her inner cheek as she glanced at Billy, who was still anxiously looking up the stairs. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. 

Emily didn’t have to be told twice. She opened the door for Billy who immediately bolted to your room, his heart thudding in his chest harder in a matter of seconds. Something tugging at his chest as he climbed the stairs and then reached your room. He stops suddenly, before he even touches the door handle, taking a deep breath he prepared for the worst-case scenario. 

It was even worse when he opened the door. 

You sat uncomfortably on your bed, a little light-headed, still feeling hazy from the lack of sleep you’d had. Although Emily had insisted you had to shower around two a.m. and the blood from your body had been clean, the scrapes on your face and torso had become irritated by the shower, causing you to wince each time you tried to accommodate yourself between the pillows. You wanted to say it was new, that the busted lip, the cut over your cheekbone, the swollen eye, the bruises on your neck, the scrapes and bruises that littered your body; all new. 

It wasn’t.

You knew that each time it happened, you’d take a day off or two, just to make sure no one saw the bruises, not even teachers so Craig wouldn’t become liable for anything. Emily could skip school only if the injuries inflicted on your body had become so bad that you would have to rest a day. Craig wouldn’t talk to you until the bruises hadn’t faded just enough for him to look at you again unless you made something to make him mad again. 

You had the routine down and yet there was a new factor in your life: Billy Hargrove. 

The same Billy Hargrove that opened the door softly, the same one that just realized that he blocked out every beating that Neil gave him. That he had managed to survive by forgetting the traumatic beatings he received but that it was all a lie because as his eyes examined your body under that flimsy oversize shirt and your face, he could feel every single second in his bones as he watched you. 

He was scared, you could see it in his eyes. He didn’t seem like he wanted to walk near you at first. As if he was too worried he might break you. He took a deep breath before walking slowly towards you, he sat on the edge of the bed slowly, and with shaky hands his fingerpads trailed your skin, stopping methodically at each and every one of the visible bruises that you had on your skin. His eyes watered before he even knew it as he touched you lightly, to finish in your face, trailing your lips and the cut above your cheek. 

You waited for him to scream at you about what had happened if you had fallen from the bike. You had the story ready for him and yet you could see it in his eyes, there was something there that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

“I’m going to kill him,” Billy whispered as he gazed at you and then stood from the bed without a second thought. 

Your hands moved to catch him as fast as you possibly could, even through the pain, you managed to get a hold of his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“Billy, stop, stop,” you pleaded. 

Billy glances back at you, the rage in his chest growing faster by the second. He knew what it meant to love someone that was treated this way, the frustration, the pain in his chest, the helplessness when his father close the door of their room so he could hit her without Billy interrupting. He was older now, he could defend you, he would kill him if he needed to, he just wanted to stop your suffering. He didn’t know how you hid it so well from him, it dawned on him at that moment where your scars came from, those he had learned by heart when you were naked for him, those he had kissed softly. He knew he surprised you, knowing immediately what had happened. It doesn’t make him feel any better, he should’ve known. He can’t stop his eyes from streaming as he realized that he should’ve protected you since the day he met you. 

“I’ll be back,” he affirmed once more, moving as delicately as he could so he could lose your hold. You move in a hurry, without thinking as he reached the door and opened it.

“Billy, I- ow!” you screamed, you don’t feel the sharp pain until you stood up, quickly bending as you hold your torso with both of your hands.

Billy turned around, quickly scooping you in his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked as he holds you in his arms, your eyes are still closed as you try to keep the pain at bay while he lays you again. “Are you okay?” he repeated. 

You nodded softly, he could tell that you were lying. He quickly climbed to the bed without a second thought, pulling you towards him. He doesn’t really know if it’s going to make it better but he recalled that his mother simply liked him to be there after it happened. 

When you opened your eyes, tears threatening to spill, you realize that Billy’s still crying as he looked at you, concern creasing his features still. 

“You’re so strong,” Billy whispered. “I, I want to take you to a doctor,” he insisted.

You shake your head as you pull him closer to you. “I just want you to be here,” you said softly, your head tilting up and your eyes meet properly to those ocean-blue eyes. Both of you crying as you gazed back at the other, you press your lips against his gently. “Can you stay with me?”

Billy lets his forehead rest against yours, a shaky breath leaving his body. 

“Always,”

***

author's note: love you love you all that keep reading.

***

@happypopcornprincess @hannahnikohl @thescarlettvvitch @nymphadora000 @phishyie @amethystx3 @gloryekaterina @alicetweven @frogtits1 @starloriha @make-me-imagine @dedicated2viktor @zanmorgan @queenofshinigamis @literally-a-ferret @milkiane @mysterygirl-14 @oli-leo-ska @tsukibaby1 @theshinyrock @belledawnidk @the-mysterious-miss-s @nobody-000000-blog @rlvslouis @linkpk88 @daygirl26 @alwaysbeenfamous @kazbrekkersangel @allazay101 @finelineskies @nymphadora000 @that-levi-kenma-kinnie @riffcrusader @patheticreative @bellaramseygfsblog @milenadixon @whiskeypowder @ponyboys-sunsets @

[riverkingmarley]

So… what was the point of Theo?

They set him up as early as arc 11, but he doesn’t really do anything?

He doesn’t stop Jack. He’s kinda sad about it. His family is composed entirely of Nazis. He’s kinda sad about it. His family is grey boy bubbled. He’s kinda sad about it. He puts a rift between himself and Taylor. He’s kinda sad about it. He named himself Golem. He’s kinda sad (and weirdly mean?) about it (seriously how do you, the child of Nazis, name yourself after a Jewish thing and then talk about how you regret it because the Golem is too mindless??? That’s so messed up what is wrong with you).

Maybe it’s just me but while all of these ideas are mentioned, none of them really feel relevant or like they’re explored. What really nailed this in for me was how Theo comments on Hookwolf. He has a little internal monologue about how he didn’t like Hookwolf cause he was a jerk, but he doesn’t talk to him about it. He doesn’t even yell at him or something. Did Hookwolf ever get his memories back? He could have taunted him with his failure to accomplish his dream or with the fact Hookwolf doesn’t know who he is. But nothing ever comes of it. What was the point of bringing it up?

I feel like the story pays some lip service to all these themes and ideas but never really explores them. Is there some key to it that I was missing? It mentions that he tries to cover his emotions up to put on a front. That could explain why he doesn’t really touch too heavily on topics, but that never comes to a head either. Also, there’s already a character I like more that covers those ideas: Grue.

Here’s my fun little counter pitch though: We just replace him with Sophia.

Jack nominates Sophia instead of Oni Lee before she is shipped out of the bay and instead of being sent to prison she works out the same deal with him about killing him in two years to save herself.

She still puts up this front about not caring about anyone so she acts like she doesn’t care about her family being on the line. She might try to run away at first but she gets caught by the prt who force/convince her somehow to stay and train/fight.

Maybe something happens with the nine that scares her enough to stay and train. Maybe Bonesaw puts a tracker on her and Amy’s not around anymore to remove it. Then, when Taylor becomes weaver, she’s still scared enough to put up with her the same way Taylor is willing to put up with her because of the end of the world.

Emma’s emotional state went differently because she never separated from Sophia in the same way. After Weaver shows up, she sees Sophia and Taylor working together on the news. Maybe she feels more alone then ever. Maybe this is the push that’s needed to finally get her help.

Sophia grows and develops over the time skip. She works hard and she even reconnects with her family.

This is why it hits ten times harder when they get grey boy bubbled and Taylor kills her younger sibling. She thinks of all the time she lost when she was younger and hated/was apathetic to her family. How her family is suffering forever because of her rash decisions when she was younger.

When she fails to take down Jack it’s a major blow in how she failed both in stopping him and getting revenge. When grey boy gets taken down without her she feels more powerless than ever. She breaks down and shows emotion, maybe for the first real time in the whole book (echoing Taylor’s breakdown with the end of the world).

Maybe she even kills Hookwolf, and it doesn’t make her feel better. While it’s still good that the nazi is gone and she’s protected people from him but she realizes that having power over others doesn’t really make her feel better and she finally realizes that she needs to heal and connect with people she cares about. This made all the more tragic by how her family is gone and it’s too late.

Maybe she says something about this to Taylor at the end and it influences how she fights scion. Taylor takes one last lesson from an enemy except this time it’s a gift instead of a scar.

We see Sophia in the epilogue. Maybe Sofia’s power allows her to affect grey boys bubble a little, lessening her family’s pain somehow. Letting her move past barriers between her and others instead of dodging and running from things.

[castaccio]

I can't get over the piano puzzle.

You only need to play 10 notes to solve it, but Ethan plays far more than what's required with expert-level skill—while down two fingers!

Maybe it's easier for a semi-professional than it looks to someone who hasn't touched the piano in years. I doubt that the recording they used to represent Ethan's performance was made with his circumstance in mind. But it nonetheless implies that he is INCREDIBLY skilled at playing the piano.

So I'm dedicating this post to nerding out about it! Feel free to let me know if any observations are off, or if CAPCOM has an official reason for using this recording…

Let's assume that his in-game performance is the only time he plays that piece while in castle Dimitrescu. Maybe he "air-plays" the piano to practice without making noise, but he does not play the piano aloud. He IS being stalked by the Dimitrescus, so it makes sense that he wouldn't want to play any more than he'd have to. And if Ethan has a lot of experience, it's more than possible for him to play it as well as he does first-try.

Experienced musicians tend to be really good at sight reading. (Playing an unfamiliar piece for the first time without practice, having only skimmed over the sheet music.) Lucky for Ethan, the excerpt of the piece that he plays seems decently easy to sight read. 

(This transcription, which you can find here, was made by Sheeva Shepa!)

The song's in a very easy key, C major, so there's no need to account for any unwieldy sharps or flats. The right-hand part is just the melody from the puzzle, which is very simple; there's no extra ornamental notes (sort of), so he can pick it up with little to no practice. Unfortunately, the left hand part makes things a bit difficult for Ethan.

Looking at the sheet music, the left hand part is composed entirely of (very unwieldy) arpeggios. This means that Ethan has to repeatedly play a wide range of notes at a constant rhythm while down two fingers on his left hand. THAT'S A LOT OF RANGE JUST *GONE*.

My hands are smaller—and I'm probably not using the best technique—but here's a comparison between how he'd usually play vs how he'd play in the castle:

[ID: In part 1 of the video, with the caption "Performance: Pre-RE8", I play the first arpeggio from the original sheet music using my pinky, index finger, and thumb. I'm able to comfortably maneuver each finger to reach every note without breaking pace.

[In part two, with the caption "Performance: Opera Hall", I play the same arpeggio using my middle finger, index finger, and thumb. It's unwieldy, as I have to rotate my hand in a "waddling" motion to reach every note.]

This isn't so much to comment on how much harder it would be in general, and more to comment on the difference that Ethan has to contend with. He would have to adjust to having a much more limited range on the fly with almost no practice. But—as he somehow adjusts to everything—he does it very well without messing up! Like…wow!! (I must say, I appreciate it even more after having to practice 20+ times to record for a video.)

...

Alright, aside from the left hand arpeggios, I think he can very easily tackle the piece as written if he's had many years of practice and skill.

…Except he doesn't tackle it as written.

Instead, for NO REASON AT ALL, he plays a melody that's NOT IN THE SHEET MUSIC!

He not only changes the melody itself, but he proceeds to play it IN OCTAVES!!! Yknow, for funzies!! That's playing two versions of the melody at the same time with the same hand! Compare what you hear in-game to Sheeva Shepa's transcription:

It might be easier for Ethan, who has larger hands, but it's still very annoying and said to be easy to mess up without practice. 

So why did he go to the trouble? It's not like it's in the sheet music or anything, so I guess he just voluntarily *chooses* to play octaves under threat of death from 4 vampire ladies. It makes it harder for him, but he does it anyway. And somehow, he plays it beautifully.

...

To close this off I just want to call back to Ethan's reaction. Listen to him. His breath is shaking when he gets his gun. He is audibly relieved when it turns out that the noise he hears is just the latch in the piano. The amount of stress he must've felt in his circumstances is absolutely insane, but somehow it doesn't manifest through slip-ups or shaky hands.

How Ethan handles the circumstances in Village and Biohazard will always astound me, but this particular example will always get me. On top of his excellent stress management and adaptability, he also has a lot of sheer skill that implies years of practice. Ethan is a great survivor and an amazing musician, and I will never let that go.

[trupowieszcz-moved]

there are so many people in my notes saying stuff like wow that's really cool that you made this but why did you bother why did you go the extra mile it's just a shitpost are you insane and im like. i like doing things. i havent been able to compose anything in months and goncharov finally gave me some concepts to work with. and like. you don't say that stuff to visual artists that make fanart etc or at least i havent seen that kind of attitude. making music isn't somehow inherently harder than drawing most people are just not given the proper instructions when growing up so it's not like i'm doing some incredible feat i'm just scribblin' yknow. it's just annoying to read "OMG YOU PEOPLE ARE INSANE WHY DID YOU DO ALL THAT FOR A SHITPOST" over and over again when i literally took like 3 hours total to make a silly little tune in musescore 3 ajdsfhgjsdfhgsjdfg

[gerogerigaogaigar]

Creedence Clearwater Revival - Willy And The Poor Boys

After three albums of progressively cleaner tighter production the boys of CCR decided to go and do one more sloppy style. While the main hit Fortunate Son still has the crisp production of their recent output the rest is closer to the swampy slop of their debut. There's a solid amount of funk influence in their blues rock and it makes Willy And The Poor Boys stand out among their discography. There's a solid mix of politically charged and party songs that makes it very emblematic of the CCR style.

Beastie Boys - Licensed To Ill

I've said already how I love the Beastie Boys. I think they are one of the best at their type of flow and on their debut they are probably the most focused they ever were. Now I do think that focus comes at the expense of a fun looseness that permeates their next few albums, but it does mean that all the songs are more fully realized. I imagine that if Brass Monkey or Girls had been on Paul's Boutique instead they would have been a minute long each but here they get to be some of the Beastie Boys most well remembered tracks. Also a totally weird thing to be able to say about a hip hop record but the guitar solo in No Sleep Till Brooklyn rips.

Etta James - At Last!

I've known the name Etta James for a long time but I've never knowingly listened to her until now. Her blend of traditional pop, soul, and rock actually caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting that kind of crossover energy from a female pop singer from 1960. The more rock and doo wop stuff was good but the more traditional pop/soul stuff was amazing. The title track and her version of Stormy Weather especially were amazingly delivered. James' voice is husky and rich, with a lot of toughness and it somehow works most beautifully with the more delicate songs. It gives them a sense of wavering confidence.

The Who - Tommy

On the face of it Tommy is an album about a boy who is stricken deaf, dumb, and blind by childhood trauma, experiences every kind of child abuse imaginable, and finally is cured of his condition only to immediately become an abusive cult leader himself and finally lose all of his followers when they realize he's a fraud. It's a lot and it's densely packed even as a lengthy double album. I find it to be very thematically interesting and, though I won't analyse it here, ideas about the cycle of abuse, a representation or Plato's allegory of the cave, and a condemnation of spiritual guidance in general are just a few of the things that I personally read into the lyrics on Tommy. It's a shockingly intelligent album from the band who once made a fake ad for baked beans. Musically this is also the most complex and mature thing The Who would ever write. Already a talented batch of musicians they show off harder than ever with Pete Townsend proving that he could arrange as well as any classical composer, John Entwistle pulling out the French horn on more than a few tracks, Keith Moon just completely obliteration the drum kit at every chance, and Roger Daltry successfully vocalizing the emotional depth of the story's various characters. As an attempt at real operatic formula it features an overture repeating motifs, and even a few interludes that could be called the rock version of recitative. It's bigger and more dramatic than any Who album before or after. It more than lives up to it's reputation and could stand to be more seriously analysed from a literary standpoint in my opinion.

Sleater-Kinney - Dig Me Out

Coming out towards the end of the riot grrrl scene of the 90s Sleater-Kinney's third album manages to be a little cleaner and more nuanced than their contemporaries but no less angry. They deliver a hard hitting punk adjacent brand of alternative rock that is aware of grunge but is very much doing its own thing. The feminist themes common to the riot grrrl movement are on full display and nuance is out the window. There's no time for nuance when you are raging against the patriarchy and as a bonus Sleater-Kinney are not one of the terfy riot grrrl bands.

T. Rex - Electric Warrior

Electric Warrior is probably the most important release for the glam rock genre. There's this hint of folksiness mixed with a glitzy sheen and those two things are somehow not at odds with each other. The lyrics? Damn this shit is horny. Marc Bolan was exquisite at expressing sleaze without making me feel uncomfortable. There's this combination of cheek and haunting atmosphere that leaves me with the impression that Bolan is singing about fucking to keep something scarier at bay.

[bighands42]

Exhibit

Saturdays are great for going out with your loved one to shop, eat, drink and play. We had both been busy with non stop work so finally getting a chance to be with one another was wonderful. We worked out plans for the day, just a couple things to relax and enjoy.

We awoke slowly and took our time getting ready. Headed out early for breakfast at a favorite place. Seated comfortably in a booth, we share the same side cuddled together. I slide my hands along your beautiful legs, teasing us both with how close I get to your panties in that frilly skirt. We order yummy food and tease each other while we wait. Your hand slides down to my obviously hard package and squeezes with lusty desire. I play with your lips inside your panties with my fingers as your wetness soaks my fingertips. Our entree arrives and we distract ourselves with great food. We pay the check and hop in the car, on to the next!

Struggling to keep the car driving straight, your legs and skirt are wide open, panties pulled aside. My two big fingers are deep in your lips and massaging your g spot. Your whimpers and sexy moans keep my dick as hard as it gets. You squeeze your creamy thighs tight around my hand as you contract and brace yourself against the door, armrest and floor. Cumming harder and harder, I have to fight against your strong legs to see how long I can keep making you cum. I look around to see if anyone notices as you scream in ecstasy for the last time.

“Fuck Daddy, that was unbelievable.”

We stop at a place around the corner. After you’ve composed yourself and panties and skirt, I look back as we’ve gotten out of the car to see the hot little stain in your seat. I wanted to shove your face in it as I fuck you from behind, but there’s people around and it’s Putt putt golf time!

We buy our rounds and set up at the first hole. I let you start, mostly to grab my package and try to see your panties while you bend over and putt. A good hit, stopped halfway. I tee up and send it fairly close. You finish it off and I bring it home too. Filling out the score card my eyes focus beyond to see you sitting on the bench at the next hole.

Legs crossed I can barely see your black panties. We make eye contact after looking around. Your legs uncross as you tease me and spread your legs open just enough to see your wet little panties.

You look around again to see the coast is still clear so to my delight you pull your panties over and show me your wet little swollen lips. Glistening wet you slide a finger inside. Quickly you pull your hand away and hide everything with your skirt, as a couple walks by.

Embarrassed and unsure if they saw anything, your cheeks get even more rosy as you smile and wink at me from afar as I chuckle and imagine tasting your fingers.

I set up for the next hole since I won the last. Practicing my shot, you sneak up and force your wet finger in my mouth. I suck on your tasty juices while my cock throbs beneath.

“Thank you little girl.” Somehow she knew.

Two more holes and we circle back around the backside to finish up. We have the place to ourselves it seems since we’ve made space in front of us and the landscape blocks from the slow players behind.

Reading my mind again you hop on top of me, sitting me down on the halfway bench. Your hands hurry furiously as you unzip and pull out my thick veiny cock which you shove in your wet flesh with your panties pulled aside already. You shiver as you sit your creamy ass cheeks slowly all the way down my long cock, finally reaching and grinding at my base as I put my hand over your uncontrollably shrieking little slut mouth. Ecstatic to have my engorged cock meat spreading your walls from the inside, you hop and grind on me until I worry about the strength of the old bench.

Just about when you start seizing and squeezing on my soaked cock, someone who has only the anger and disgust as an owner can have, runs towards us yelling “No! Stop! This is a family place!” You hop up immediately and stand shaking beside me as I push my hard cock back in my pants and apologize profusely to the old man.

“Daddy?”

“One minute hun.” He walks us briskly out to the exit gate and I offer money to appease him. He tells us we’re banned and turns away rudely and stomps back to the office.

“Holy shit that was close! I thought he had called the cops!”

“Daddy?”

“Yes Little girl? What could it possibly be?”

We look down at her hand on her thigh as she cups and holds my cum sliding out of her soaked pussy lips.

“I didn’t realize when we got caught! You pumped your cum all inside my pussy, Daddy! It’s everywhere, there’s so much! I know it’s been inside my pathetic cunt, but can I put it in my mouth? I want to taste you on my tongue and swallow your cock cum, pleeeasee?”

“Yes my pathetic little whore, I know you need my cum in your mouth and down your throat to feel like the fucking useless slut you are.”

“Thank you Daddy!!” You pour my hot cum into your mouth and lick your palm clean. Smiling and smirking at me, you play with my cum in your mouth; spitting it on to your lips and mouth and then lapping it up with your tongue and fingers until my white mess on your face is clean and swallowed down your cum dumpster throat.

“Good girl, my filthy little cum slut. Now let’s get you home before we get in any REAL trouble!”

[odoraful]

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐎 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄?

your classmate wants to go on a blind date with your crush and asks you to organise it ! how will you navigate this tricky situation?

content: modern au, ft. genshin characters x reader, 1.3k words a/n: this felt like a cheesy shojo plotline so my imagination just started running 🏃‍♀️

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

˗ˏˋ꒰ PROLOGUE ꒱ˎˊ˗

“Could you please set me up with him?”

Your classmate has their hands clasped together, their eyes pleading at you. You mentioned off-handedly how you were close with the guy given the high honour of ‘campus crush’. Since then, they’ve been hounding you to arrange a blind date. 

Trying not to show your exasperation was getting more and more difficult. Every conversation somehow ended up having him in it. It was also even harder hearing them infatuate over someone you had liked for so long. Yes, you know the way his eyes light up whenever he gets excited, and how handsome he is no matter what he wears — you get that loud and clear! However, you knew they wouldn’t stop until you had at least tried to set something up. 

“Alright!” You lift your hands in surrender. “I’ll see what I can do.” You say, resignedly. 

Your classmate tackles you with a side hug, cheering with excitement. “You’re my hero! Thank you!” 

You pat them on the arm. Perhaps this was actually a good thing.  You’ve spent too long pining after your close friend, and his popularity meant he could easily find someone to be with. It wouldn’t be hard for him to fall for someone nice and approachable like your classmate.

Staring off into the distance, you wonder just how you’re going to approach this. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

꒰ wanderer, xiao, cyno, kazuha ꒱

“No.” 

You barely finish the question before he abruptly answers, not even looking up from his laptop screen. The clicky noises from his typing punctuating the blunt response. You were visiting his place for the day to get some work done together. Though, you devoted more time to trying to find a way to ask the question rather than focusing on your tasks. 

Crossing your arms on the table, you lean in, trying to gauge exactly what kind of reaction he’s having to this. “Come on, you don’t even want to entertain the idea of finding a partner?” 

He sighs, fingers going still. Sensing this topic wasn’t dropping anytime soon, he closes his laptop screen halfway to get a better view of you. 

“Why would I want to meet someone new?” 

His sudden attention towards you made your thoughts scramble, and the response you had ready fizzles away. He rests his face in his hand, head tilted. Hair tousled slightly, eyes shining with curiosity — it's enough to cause your breath to stutter. You could curl up with embarrassment at how your cheeks still grew hot when he looked at you a certain way. 

Maybe I should have just texted him about this… 

“W-well it’s not just about meeting a new person, there’s the potential for falling in love as well.” 

He lets out a soft chuckle, sounding unconvinced at your words. Your heart sinks a little. Did he really not want to find a partner? It was just more evidence of your one-sided love. 

“I think I have all the people I need in my life already. And besides…” He turns his head, darting his eyes away from your gaze. “What if I already have someone I love?”

The air stills. 

Trying quickly to compose yourself, you exaggerate a gasp. “You like someone and you’ve never told me before?!”

Covering your mouth with both hands, you press your fingers together to stop them from trembling. 

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I have for a while now.”

Now is the time for you to curl up with embarrassment. You couldn't believe it. All this time he had a crush on someone. You knew your chances were slim to begin with, but this really hammered that point home. You need something to distract you right now. 

Picking up your phone, you quickly unlock it and swipe to find your message app.

“I’ll text my classmate that you said no to the blind date for obvious reasons.” Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes as you jokingly say, “And then you should go and actually ask your crush out so they don't think I’m lying.”

With your eyes averted from his face, he hangs his head, exhaling a shaky breath. You're about to press send on the message when you hear him clearing his throat.

“Okay then.” Looking up, you notice an unfamiliar shyness on his face. “(Y/N),"

Realisation hits you. This had to be a dream right? Your body reacts before your thoughts can even catch up — heartrate quickening, stomach fluttering. There's no way the next words out of his mouth would be-

"Would you like to go out with me?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

꒰ childe, lyney, wriothesley, kaeya ꒱

His eyes go wide, before a smirk emerges on his lips. “A blind date?” He pops a spoonful of cake in his mouth, a pause for emphasis. “With who?”

You take your own spoon and tap away his one from taking another big piece. You thought the best chance to ask your question was when there was something sweet in front of him. Plus, the lively, unintelligible chatter and the whirring of the coffee machine in the café served as good background noise for any potential awkwardness on your part. You already feel a twinge of envy at how interested he seemed. 

“One of my classmates. We met at the start of this semester.”

He folds his arms, eyes narrowing at you. “Describe them for me. I need to know more about their personality before I make any hasty decisions.”

You roll your eyes. “Now doesn’t that defeat the whole ‘blind’ part of the blind date?”

“It doesn’t have to be detailed! I just wanna know what they’re like.”

Acquiescing to his wishes, you describe your classmate. You didn’t want to betray them, so you told him a faithful account of what they were like — outgoing, lively, sweet. The more you recounted details about them, the more you realised how perfect they would be with him. Once you finish your pitch, you take a piece of cake for yourself, scooping extra whipped cream from the top. Anything to make the lump in your throat go away. 

He hums in thought, then nods to himself, coming to some kind of conclusion. 

“Sorry. They don’t really sound like my type.”

Huh? You stare blankly at him.

“But they’re so nice! You would look so good together!” Your unexpected passion at defending your classmate causes him to lift a brow. “And besides, I didn’t realise you had a type.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” He says, matter of factly.

You busy yourself by aimlessly playing around with the remaining piece of cake with your spoon. Of course everyone has someone they gravitate towards. Even you, and that person was sitting right here. 

You’re almost afraid to ask this question, but your curiosity gets the better of you. “Well go on, what kind of person do you like then?” 

Almost like he was waiting for you to ask, he becomes animated as he talks. “Well, they need to be fun to hang out with, and definitely have similar interests as me.” 

He eyes your face and smiles.

“And I find it cute if they’re a little clumsy. Especially when it comes to eating cake. For example, they might have some cream in the corner of their lip right-” 

He reaches his hand towards your face. Your brain malfunctions when he lightly rests it beneath your chin and swipes a thumb over the outside of your lips. Pulling his hand back, you see remnants of the whipped cream you ate. 

Does this mean he...!? You repeat over and over in your head. The feeling of his touch lingers on your skin, tingling.

He grins at your dumbfounded expression, licking the cream off his thumb. “-here.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

asriel felt the weight of marisa’s words hit him like a slap, each phrase cutting deep, peeling back the carefully guarded walls he had built. her insistence on remaining aloof, on pretending there was nothing binding them, only deepened the wounds she had left in her wake. he remained rooted, his gaze locked on her, fury swirling beneath his calm facade as he watched her struggle to keep herself guarded, as though he were some enemy she needed to protect herself from. she was so close, yet so unreachable—her armor of cold detachment mocking him, a fortress he couldn’t breach.

stelmaria moved beside him, her golden eyes trained on marisa’s dæmon, a wary tension in her stance. asriel could feel his dæmon’s strength and loyalty, but even she couldn’t ground him through this. he looked down at her, guilt roiling in his stomach—this, too, was something he’d risked, everything he held dear threatened by his unyielding attachment to marisa. stelmaria remained silent but resolute, her gaze unwavering as if to remind him of his purpose. she was his constant, his bond; and yet, standing here before marisa, it all felt flimsy, breakable, a fragile thread stretched to its breaking point.

“marisa,” he hissed, his voice low but sharp with fury. “you say you don’t want to keep me chained, yet you know damn well that i’m already bound to you. i could walk out that door tonight, cut you out like a sickness, but you’d still haunt me. in every choice, every ambition, every sacrifice i’ve made, you’re there, marisa. do you really think it’s so easy for me to stand here, knowing i’m tied to you as tightly as i was the day i left?”

he saw her expression flicker, a faint tremor betraying her calm exterior. but her face remained composed, closed off, and it only fueled his anger. “you think leaving was kindness?he spat, his lips twisting in a bitter smile. “maybe. or maybe it was the most cowardly, cruel thing you could have done. you think you’re being noble, staying away? you think it makes it easier for me to forget?” the accusation hung heavy, his voice raw with frustration, a torrent of emotions breaking through his control.

the silence that fell between them felt like a challenge, one he was determined not to lose. he felt the tightness in his chest, anger and hurt mixing together in a volatile storm he could no longer contain. she asked him to stay until he was sober, as if that would fix anything—as if a night together could somehow ease the weight he carried alone. his voice grew colder, sharper as he continued. “i’m staying until morning, marisa, alright. but then what? what happens when i walk out of here and i’m left with this weight while you get to close yourself off and pretend this never happened?”

stelmaria’s presence steadied him, her fur brushing against his side, but it did little to quell the storm raging inside him. he looked at marisa, eyes blazing with fury, a fierce determination cutting through the exhaustion. “i need the truth from you, marisa. no more lies, no more games. i want to know what you feel—no masks, no walls, just the truth. or is that too much to ask?”

he saw her flinch, saw a crack in the carefully crafted armor she wore, and it made his own fury sharpen into something harder, colder. she had always known what she meant to him, always used it against him, pushing him to the brink only to pull back. his fists clenched at his sides, the anger simmering beneath his skin as he pushed on, his voice rising. “every time i see you, it’s like being ripped apart. i’ve tried to be free of you, told myself a thousand times that i don’t need you, but it’s a lie. you’re a part of me, marisa, just as much as stelmaria is. and you think kindness is walking away?”

asriel’s jaw clenched, and his voice dropped, filled with a raw, simmering anger. “you say you didn’t want to keep me chained, marisa, but you left me with nothing. you could have spoken the truth at my trial—stood beside me instead of staying silent, letting them tear me apart.” his voice cracked with rage, and he shook his head bitterly. “or you could have come with me. we could’ve run away, taken lyra with us. we could have raised her together, given her a life away from all this—a life where she knew she was loved by both her parents.” he took a step closer, the pain in his eyes nearly overwhelming as he looked at her, barely holding back the accusation.

“but instead, you left me to stand alone in that courtroom while you were lying to them. you didn’t have to go that far.” his tone softened, anger and hurt blending into something almost pleading, but the fury beneath it bubbled over. “you didn’t have to leave me to this fate.” he broke off, struggling to compose himself, but his gaze bore into hers with a fierce intensity. “you had choices, marisa. and you didn’t choose me.”

he took a step closer, his gaze unyielding, waiting for any sign that she felt the same pain, the same torment. his voice was cold now, a thin layer of contempt mixed with the bitterness that twisted his expression. “so say it to my face, marisa. tell me i’m nothing more than a memory, that all of this means nothing to you. tell me, and i’ll go. i’ll leave, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

he waited, the silence pulsing with the weight of all their unsaid words, his own heart pounding in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of everything he couldn’t say. the air felt thick, suffocating, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of an unbridgeable chasm. and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to turn away, to walk out of her life—not while there was still a chance, however slim, that she might be brave enough to face him—to face them.

as he waited, his mind betrayed him with a vision of what they could have had, a life untainted by pride, ambition, and their endless mistakes. but that was a world he could never reach, and he knew it. the air between them was thick with the weight of broken promises and bitter regrets, and he wondered, in that moment, if there was truly any way forward for them—or if he was doomed to orbit her forever, a lost soul unable to break free.

wasn't   it   quite   disconcerting?   to   realise   just   how   at   odds   was   their   perception   of   the   power   either   of   them   hold   in   this   moment...   marisa's   voice   firm,   body   as   if   bracing   for   a   counterattack   —   steeling   herself   to   grasp   any   remnants   of   control   she   could   have   possibly   grasped,   as   if   that   was   possible   to   clutch   a   lion's   mane   &   hope   not   to   have   one's   throat   ripped   apart...   &   yet,   he   professed   he   could   have   easily   yielded   to   her   will?   or   was   it   all   the   more   unsettling   to   see   her   own   reflection   in   the   very   words   he   uttered   ;   to   realise   how   readily   she   might   bend   &   shatter   should   she   lower   her   guard   for   even   a   moment.   it   already   felt   like   having   come   to   the   cliff's   edge   on   unsteady   legs   —   &   he   was   this   dark,   vast,   unyielding   ocean   beneath.   ❝   i   did   not   ask   for   you   to   come   here.   ❞   it   was   difficult   to   keep   her   voice   steady.   didn't   he   anticipated   just   how   much   would   his   choice   further   complicate   the   matters?   allowing   her   thoughts   to   stray   back   was   already   painful   enough,   but   nothing   comparable   to   standing   in   his   presence   —   to   feeling   his   touch   on   her   skin   or   his   kisses   of   her   lips...   whatever   anger   was   circulated   in   her   veins   it   was   no   longer   simmering.   his   raw   confessions   taking   away   the   oxygen   her   fire   could   feed   on   ;   &   only   this   fire   had   lent   her   strength   to   bear   a   day   after   day   after   day.   now,   she   was   already   drowning...

to   ask   him   to   stay   had   precious   little   to   do   with   her   own   comfort…   not   in   the   slightest.   however   much   she   had   claimed   to   be   in   no   position   to   take   responsibility   for   his   actions,   this   was   a   consequence   of   her   own   choices.   &,   perhaps   just   this   once,   she   might   actually   shoulder   the   weight   of   the   pain   she   had   caused   —   if   only   for   a   fleeting   moment,   for   a   single   night.   her   lips   drew   into   a   thin   line,   chin   held   high   as   if   that   would   be   enough   to   keep   the   mask   in   place.   yet   her   dæmon   had   already   taken   a   few   tentative   steps   forward,   his   tail   tucked   low,   golden   fur   flattened,   making   him   appear   even   smaller.   he   didn't   dare   do   more,   though,   however   much   he   yearned   to   bridge   the   remaining   gap   between   them   &   the   man   &   his   wild   cat   dæmon.   marisa   herself   evaded   the   intensity   of   asriel's   gaze,   her   eyes   drifting   downward,   a   slight   shake   of   her   head.   ❝   sever...   coming   back   here?   it's   like   that   last   shot   before   a   rehab   —   a   fool's   errand,   really...   ❞   to   cut   that   part   of   her   life   had   seemed   to   be   the   only   rational   path.   never   to   see   him,   nor   lyra   again.   never   to   hear   the   whispered   echoes   of   their   names.

❝   i   thought   it   to   be   an   act   of   kindness   to   stay   away.   i’ve   no   wish   to   hold   you   back.   but   at   this   moment,   i   couldn’t   possibly   let   you   walk   away,   not   without   knowing   you’re   going   to   be   all   right.   ❞   oh,   how   she   hoped   he   wouldn’t   read   too   much   into   her   words...   even   if,   indeed,   she   meant   more   than   his   present   state.   she   scoffed   softly   then,   a   question   slipping   out,   ❝   don’t   you   see..?   ❞   it   was   a   house   of   cards   that   she's   been   building   for   the   past   three   years,   she   saw   it   now   —   his   mere   presence   threatened   to   send   it   all   tumbling   down.   his   words,   raw   &   unguarded,   threatened   to   crack   the   dam   holding   her   emotions   at   bay.   they   pressed   against   her   chest,   crushing   &   smothering,   even   if   the   faint   sheen   in   her   eyes   was   the   only   hint   of   the   tumult   raging   beneath   her   skin.   her   feet   carried   her   forward,   her   gaze   returning   to   his   ;   the   blue   in   them   was   no   longer   the   vivid   hue   she   recalled   ;   now   they   were   muted...   subdued.

❝   i   would   have   thought   it’d   make   things   easier   for   you,❞   she   admitted.   for   it   had   been   clear   that   if   she   ever   bent   to   her   most   suppressed   desires,   there’d   be   no   going   back   for   either   of   them.   had   she   shown   even   a   shred   of   care...   a   single   touch   to   his   cheek   — comfort   she   did   wish   to   give   — would   open   the   door   to   a   path   she   couldn't   see   them   taking.   ❝   i   don’t   deny   what   we   had,   asriel.   but   that’s   just   it——   the   past.   ❞   she   knew   those   words   would   sting   him,   but   if   it   was   freedom   he   sought,   she’d   grant   him   just   that,   however   hard   it   was   to   picture   him   brimming   with   life   alongside   someone   who   wasn’t   her.   ❝   it   doesn’t   mean   i   don’t   still   care   about   you...   ❞   at   times,   she   wondered   if   pain   had   only   made   her   feelings   more   vibrant,   more   glaringly   obvious...   &   the   harder   it   became   to   deny   them,   the   harder   she   tried   to   escape   them...   to   cling   to   his   heart   with   every   last   bit   of   her   essence   she   wanted,   refuse   to   let   go...   as   she   always   has.   ❝   i   don’t   want   to   keep   you   chained,   asriel,   but   i   don’t   want   to   see   you   get   hurt   either...   right   now,   all   i’m   asking   is   for   you   to   stay   until   you’re   sober,   &   then   i   won’t   stop   you...❞   she   muttered,   her   own   eyes   pleading   for   the   same   kind   of   release.   ❝   what   else   could   i   do..?   ❞   dear   god,   what   could   i   do   to   set   us   both   free...