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A Perfect Blend of Ambiance and Versatility: The Ultimate Guide to Tea Light Candles
Introduction
Tea light candles are more than just tiny sources of light; they are a symbol of warmth, comfort, and elegance. Whether you’re planning a wedding, decorating your home, or creating a cozy atmosphere, tea-light candles are the perfect choice. These small, circular candles, often housed in thin metal or plastic cups, are designed to liquefy completely while burning, making them safe and efficient. At Ksma, we believe in the power of these little wonders to transform any space into a magical haven. In this blog, we’ll explore everything you need to know about tea light candles, from their origins to their modern-day uses, and why they are a must-have for every occasion.
1. The History and Origin of Tea Light Candles
The story of tea light candles dates back to the 12th century in Japan. Initially, they were used during the Japanese tea ceremony, a Zen ritual that could last up to four hours. These handy little candles not only marked the passage of time but also kept the tea warm. Over the centuries, tea light candles evolved and became popular worldwide for their versatility and charm. Today, they are used in countless ways, from creating romantic settings to adding a touch of elegance to weddings and festivals.
2. Why Tea Light Candles Are So Popular
Tea light candles are loved for their simplicity and versatility. Here are some reasons why they are a favorite among candle enthusiasts:
Affordability: Tea light candles are inexpensive, making them accessible to everyone.
Compact Size: Their small size makes them easy to use in various settings, from table centerpieces to outdoor decorations.
Safety: The metal or plastic cups ensure that the wax doesn’t spill, making them safe to use.
Long Burning Time: Many tea light candles, especially long-burning tea lights, can last for hours, providing consistent light and ambiance.
3. Types of Tea Light Candles
Tea light candles come in a variety of types to suit different needs and preferences. Here are some popular options:
Scented Tea Light Candles: Infused with fragrances like lavender, vanilla, or citrus, these candles add a delightful aroma to any space.
LED Tea Light Candles: Perfect for safety and convenience, these flameless tea light candles are ideal for homes with children or pets.
Colored Tea Light Candles: Available in a range of colors, these candles are great for themed events like weddings, Diwali, or Halloween.
Floating Tea Light Candles: Designed to float in water, these candles create a stunning visual effect in bowls or pools.
Eco-Friendly Tea Light Candles: Made from sustainable materials, these candles are perfect for environmentally conscious buyers.
4. Tea Light Candle Dimensions and Size
Understanding the tea light candle dimensions is essential for choosing the right candle for your needs. Typically, a standard tea light candle measures about 1.5 inches in diameter and 0.5 inches in height. However, larger or smaller options are also available depending on the brand and purpose.
5. Creative Uses of Tea Light Candles
Tea light candles are incredibly versatile and can be used in countless ways. Here are some creative ideas:
Weddings: Tea light candles for weddings are a popular choice for creating a romantic and intimate atmosphere. They can be used as table centerpieces, aisle decorations, or even in lanterns.
Festivals: From Diwali to Christmas, tea light candles add a festive touch to any celebration. Christmas tea light candles, for example, can be used to decorate trees or mantels.
Outdoor Events: Outdoor tea light candles are perfect for garden parties or evening gatherings. Their soft glow creates a warm and inviting ambiance.
Home Decor: Use scented tea light candles to create a relaxing environment in your living room or bathroom.
6. How to Make Tea Light Candles
If you’re feeling crafty, making your own tea light candles can be a fun and rewarding project. All you need is wax, wicks, and metal cups. Melt the wax, pour it into the cups, and insert the wicks. You can even add essential oils for fragrance or dye for color. Homemade tea light candles make great gifts or party favors.
7. Where to Buy Tea Light Candles Near Me
Finding high-quality tea light candles is easy if you know where to look. Many local stores and online platforms offer a wide range of options. At Ksma.in, we provide premium tea light candles that are perfect for any occasion. Whether you need white tea light candles for a classic look or flameless tea light candles with remote control for convenience, we’ve got you covered.
8. Tips for Using Tea Light Candles Safely
While tea light candles are generally safe, it’s important to follow some basic safety tips:
Always place candles on a heat-resistant surface.
Keep them away from flammable materials like curtains or paper.
Never leave burning candles unattended.
Consider using LED tea light candles for added safety, especially around children or pets.
Conclusion
Tea light candles are a timeless and versatile addition to any home or event. From their humble beginnings in Japanese tea ceremonies to their modern-day uses in weddings, festivals, and home decor, these little candles have stood the test of time. Whether you prefer scented tea light candles for their aroma, flameless tea light candles for their safety, or colored tea light candles for their vibrant hues, there’s a perfect option for everyone.
At Ksma, we are committed to providing you with the best tea light candles that combine quality, affordability, and elegance. Explore our collection today and discover how these tiny candles can make a big difference in your life. Let the warm glow of tea light candles from Ksma.in light up your world!
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defrost | s.r.
in which the heat goes out in your apartment and Spencer comes up with a creative idea to keep warm
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: fingering, hand job, good old fashioned dry humping, softdom!spencer, masturbation is referenced, unprotected p in v sex, sex on the floor (!!!), kissing, established relationship word count: 2.8k a/n: smut? havent seen that word since october. well past due if you ask me :-) hope you enjoy
It took entirely too much of your focus not to trip on the comforter that you were hauling from your bedroom, adding it to the heap of linens that you’d collected. The heat had gone out in the entire apartment complex earlier that afternoon, and while it was originally supposed to be fixed by five, the time was pushed back until the gas company finally just told you the issue wouldn’t be resolved until the morning.
Luckily, Spencer had managed to light the fireplace while you gathered every linen from the apartment and arranged a makeshift bed in front of the hearth, but even when you sat in front of the crackling flames, you were still cold. Pulling the cuffs of your sweatshirt over your hands, you tucked them beneath your thighs in an attempt to defrost yourself, you looked up at your boyfriend in desperation, “When did they say the gas would be back on?”
“They said eight, but before that, they said six, so there’s really no accurate measurement that they could provide. I hope we’ll know more in the morning,” he told you, taking a seat next to you and draping a blanket over your shoulders, making sure you were cozy before grabbing one for himself.
You sighed, admiring the way the movement of the fire reflected in his eyes. The two of you had ordered out for dinner, discarded takeout containers were in organized chaos on the coffee table, and two mugs were sitting on coasters filled with warm tea. Your range was out of commission, but thankfully, you had electricity. Admittedly, you were milking the situation, opting for candles over your lamps.
Spencer leaned over and nudged you gently with his blanket-covered elbow, “Are you warm enough?” He asked, looking around for another blanket to hand off to you, but coming up empty.
“If the gas isn’t back on by tomorrow afternoon, we should book a hotel,” you suggested, though, with your luck, Spencer would probably be called on a case tomorrow, leaving you to freeze on your own.
He furrowed his brows in response, “You were the one who didn’t want to stay in a hotel tonight, though?”
Shrugging, you looked at the thermostat on the wall, too far away to read, but you imagined it telling you that the apartment was becoming an industrial-sized icebox. “I don’t like staying in hotels if I can help it, I like having my things and my routine,” you responded as if he didn’t already know this about you.
“But?” He pressed.
“But I’m cold,” you told him, wrapping your blanket tighter around yourself and smiling when he opened his blanket cocoon. Gratefully, you obliged, shuffling yourself over to him and settling into his lap, sighing in contentment when he closed the blanket around you, “Oh, you’re warm.”
You rested your head on his shoulder, and Spencer took the opportunity to press a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose. “Is this better?”
Nodding, you closed your eyes and let your body relax into his, his arms wrapped around you, adding a reinforcement—a border of warmth, if you will. “Yeah, much better,” you murmured, trying to think warm thoughts.
“You know, it would be easier to share body heat if we weren’t wearing clothes,” Spencer told you, shifting one of his arms until his hand was on your waist, giving it a slight squeeze.
A shy smile bloomed on your face, turning your face to bury it in his neck, though the warm glow of your cheeks was a welcome sensation, “Are you trying to get in my pants right now?”
Spencer hummed, shifting beneath you slightly—a telltale sign that he was turned on—and gripping both of your hips, “Technically, I’m trying to get you out of them.”
Now grinning, you leaned forward, pressing your torso against Spencer’s until his back was against the blankets you’d stacked for your makeshift mattress. You took a moment to adjust the fabric that surrounded you, removing the layers of separation between you and Spencer when you finally reached his sweater. Carefully, you slipped your fingers beneath his layers of clothes, pausing abruptly when he inhaled sharply, “Are you okay?”
“Your hands are freezing, honey,” he told you; a lightness was present in his tone as if he was trying not to laugh.
Withdrawing your hands, you instead stuck them beneath his back, hoping to warm them up while you craned your head up to his, placing your lips on his and immediately sighing into him. You settled the rest of your body across his, bringing your knees up to his hips and grinding your core against his hardening length. The layers of clothing between you were proving to be a hindrance, but you weren’t ready to rid yourself of any insulation just yet.
You bunched up the wool of Spencer’s sweater in your hands, finding a rhythm between your rocking hips and moving lips, patiently waiting for the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth and hoping your hands were sufficiently warm when you moved your dominant hand back to his torso. Slowly, you lifted your hips from his and tucked your fingers beneath the waistband of both his flannel pajama pants and briefs, making sure he didn’t flinch at the temperature of your fingers when you wrapped them around his cock.
His mouth opened against yours at the contact, a low moan vibrating in his throat as you kept your hand in his pants. This was your opening, leaving you to slip your tongue in his mouth, deepening the kiss and speeding up your heart rate.
Moaning against his lips, you needed to sacrifice your kiss for the sake of a hand job, ducking your head so that you could focus on the flick of your wrist, the elastic waistbands working against you.
Spencer craned his head, dropping a kiss on the crown of your head, you could feel his abdomen tensing under your arm as you reached your other hand down to try and push his pants over his hips. “You wanna take my clothes off, don’t you?”
Your ministrations slowed as you peered up at him through your eyelashes and nodded, taking your cheek between your molars.
You hummed as Spencer used his grip on your waist to pull you up until your faces were close enough to meet again, he kissed you again, chastely this time, before whispering, “You first.”
Bracing yourself for the cold apartment air to brush against your skin, you assisted Spencer by pulling your arms through the sleeves of your sweater, gritting your teeth while he tugged it over your head. You were pleasantly surprised when the air surrounding you remained insulated, too distracted by the heat to think about the way Spencer was pushing your pants down.
While you regained your focus, you helped him discard your pants, kicking them off into the abyss of blankets that you were still cocooned in. “Are you still warm enough?” Spencer asked, dragging his knuckles up and down your bare waist as he looked up at you.
“Yeah,” you asked, the way he was so concentrated on keeping you warm and comfortable sent a flurry of butterflies to your stomach, making you all the more needier. “Spence,” you whispered, thinking about all of the layers of fabric that still separated the two of you.
He pulled you close to him, looking to the side before rolling you both over until he was on top of you. You quickly got to work, tugging at the hem of his sweater and relishing in every inch of exposed skin that touched yours. The inherent eroticism of skin-to-skin contact was beginning to drive you crazy, and Spencer noticed. He tossed his sweater off to the side, laughing lightly as you disappeared beneath the covers, finally pulling his flannel pajama pants off until it was up to him to get them off the rest of the way. Once you peeked your head back above the covers, you saw the lovesick grin on his face. “Hi,” he whispered, reaching a hand up to cup your face.
You reflected his smile back at him, “Hi,” you murmured, studying his face while he kept his every attention on you.
“You look so pretty like this,” he said, moving his hand down to grip your thigh, parting your legs around his waist while you kept your eyes on him.
Raising your eyebrows, your face warmed at his claim, “What? Beneath you?” You teased, grinning so broadly that you stuck your tongue beneath your teeth to try and tame the smile.
He didn’t falter. Instead, he tilted his head to the side and nodded, “Well, yes,” he admitted. “It gives me the opportunity to do things like this,” he said, dropping his hand down to your core, his eyes on yours as your mouth parted in anticipation. “It’s much easier to see your face while I touch you when you’re beneath me.”
As he spoke, his index finger slipped between your folds, causing your stomach to twist even as he was just barely grazing your clit with his knuckle. “And here I thought it was a control thing,” you challenged, your voice weaker than you’d originally hoped, practically breaking off into a whimper.
“That certainly doesn’t hurt,” he whispered, using his finger to spread your slick over your pussy, any sounds muffled by the blankets that still surrounded you. “But nothing will ever beat the look on your face when I slip my finger inside of you,” he teased, but his words didn’t reflect his actions, leaving you slightly disappointed.
You hummed, leaning your head back and checking on the fire before looking back up at Spencer, “You have an eidetic memory, don’t you have enough of me in your spank bank at this point?”
Spencer shook his head, watching you with an undying interest as he slipped his index finger into you tantalizingly slowly. Your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth parted, and a small, choked noise escaped your lips. “There it is, honey,” he cooed. “No memory will ever do that justice.”
Nodding, you forced yourself to open your eyes and meet his, studying the ring of gold surrounding his irises while his hand found a rhythm. Lifting your hips as his thumb applied pressure to your clit, you gasped at the sensation, your cunt clenching around his finger while his ministrations refused to cease. “Spence,” you breathed, “feels good.”
“Yeah?” He asked, taking your reassurance as a hint to add a second finger to his ministrations, “I like it when you let me take care of you, you spend too many nights alone in our bed for my liking.”
You lifted your hands up, just barely peeking over the blankets so you could place them on his shoulders, “I’ve never minded,” you reminded him. He always comes back to you, albeit in various states of disarray sometimes, but he always comes home.
He groaned, burying his face in your neck and leaving gentle kisses on the soft skin, never sucking long enough to leave a mark, but he paused once he reached your collarbone, “I mind,” he muttered against your skin, kissing down your chest until his lips were level with your breasts, taking the opportunity to take your nipple in his mouth.
As he sucked gently on the sensitive bud, you became all too aware of the familiar knot building in your lower belly, “Oh,” you gasped, your hips bucking up when he hummed against your chest in response, the vibrations going straight to your core, tightening the knot.
Spencer switched nipples, latching onto your other breast while he continued the pressure on your clit. A strangled moan made its way through your throat as the rubber band in your stomach snapped, and your orgasm rippled through you, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your entire body while Spencer continued to work you through it. He separated himself from your chest, leaving tender kisses on your jawline while you tried to remember how to breathe.
Your orgasm ebbed into a dull ache between your thighs, and you let your head fall back against the blankets, wincing when Spencer withdrew his fingers from your cunt. You caught your breath while Spencer adjusted himself, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking your juices from them—it made your walls clench around nothing. “Please,” you found yourself saying, looking up at him with wide, lust-blown eyes.
“Patience,” he cajoled, pinching your hip lightly as you squirmed beneath him. “Are you feeling okay?”
You nodded, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and trying to practice the virtuous trait, “I feel really good,” you assured him, your breath hitching when you felt his tip aligned with your entrance. “We should have sex on the floor more often,” you told him.
He smiled dropping a small kiss on your nose and deciding to adjust the blankets around you. Although, funny enough, you were beginning to get too warm. “You look gorgeous,” he told you, gently pressing into you, only part of the way.
Releasing a shuddering breath, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and met his shining eyes, which he accepted as an okay for him to slide further into you. You were sure you did not look gorgeous, in fact, you could feel your hair sticking to the back of his neck while he sheathed himself inside of you, giving you time to adjust and smoothing your hair out of your face in the interim—as if he had read your mind.
Your walls clenched around him, and he dropped his head in the crook of your neck, “You feel so good,” he muttered, lifting his hips from yours before pushing back in.
“Honey,” you whispered up at him before he found a rhythm, “Will you kiss me?”
You only saw his look of incredulity for a moment before his lips were on yours, you hummed contentedly into his mouth, your breathing faltering as he continued to thrust in and out of your cunt, finding a rhythm.
One of your hands dropped to the side of his neck, cupping his jaw while you moved your mouth on his, taking control of the kiss while he focused on fucking you. Separating your lips only to take a breath, your other hand was on his back, nails lightly grazing his otherwise unmarred skin as you searched for any semblance of stability.
There had to have been something about the atmosphere, the various flames around you, or the heat of the blankets that covered you, that brought your orgasm on so quickly. You could already feel it building, and you gasped into Spencer as you felt it.
Using one hand to keep himself hovering just above you, he took his other hand and hooked it beneath your thigh, hoisting your leg up and opening your cunt even more to him. The change eased the pressure in your core, giving him more time to build up his own, but you had to separate your lips, “God, Spence,” you said, somewhere between overstimulated and overheated as your cunt clenched around his length.
He sighed, hot breath against your neck as he assured you, “I’ve got you.”
Just like that, you were a goner, head thrown back in complete bliss as your walls pulsed around Spencer’s cock, the sensation bringing on his own orgasm. You were trying to catch your breath while his cum spurted out inside of you. “Oh,” you sighed as he dropped your leg, letting your muscles stretch as Spencer’s hand massaged the inside of your thigh.
“Are you alright?” He murmured, dropping a soft kiss to your forehead.
You nodded, forcing yourself to open your eyes and look up at him, “Yeah,” you answered breathlessly, wincing slightly when he pulled out of you, more at the feeling of the fluid sliding out of you than anything else.
Spencer hummed, “Are you sure?” He brought a hand up, skimming his knuckles over your cheekbone, “It seems like something’s wrong.”
Shaking your head, you brought your hand up to hold his, leaving a soft kiss on his palm, “Promise,” you assured him. “I’m just warm, and I know I have to get up to go pee,” you told him, adjusting yourself on top of the rumpled blankets.
He gave you a lopsided smile in response, “What do you say you get up to pee, and I’ll get us some water while you’re gone?” He offered, bringing a smile to your face. “When we get back, we can watch a movie, your pick.”
Grinning up at him, you run a hand through his hair before ruffling it, “I say you’ve got yourself a deal.”
#spencer reid smut#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds smut#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds oneshot#written by margot#margot after hours#softdom!spencer
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Bound by Death
PAIRING(s): Dark!Rio Vidal x Innocent!Reader
SUMMARY: An innocent witch falls prey to Lady Death's obsession, trapped in a dark web of desire and control.
WARNING(s): Obsession, Manipulation, Control, Noncon, DarkThemes, Degradation, StockholmSyndrome.
A/N: Requested 💚
You didn’t mean to call her. Summoning Lady Death herself was the last thing on your mind. You weren’t powerful enough—at least, that’s what your sister, Lilia, always told you. “Stick to the basics,” she’d said, her voice both patient and stern. “You’re not ready for the deeper arts.”
But your curiosity was insatiable. What harm could a little experimenting do?
It was supposed to be a simple spell—an offering of gratitude to the spirits of the wood. You gathered the ingredients meticulously, whispered the incantations carefully, and poured your heart into the ritual. The forest had been quiet and still, save for the flickering of your candle and the rustle of leaves.
Until she appeared.
At first, you thought she was a shadow—a trick of the waning light. Then she stepped closer, her dark cloak billowing in an unseen wind, her face illuminated by an unearthly glow. The air grew frigid, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones, and her voice sliced through the silence like a blade.
“You called me.”
You stumbled back, your knees weak. “I-I didn’t mean to...”
Her eyes locked onto yours—silver and endless, holding the weight of eternity. Rio Vidal, the Reaper, the Lady of Death. Her beauty was terrifying, her presence suffocating. She stepped closer, a crooked smile curving her lips.
“Didn’t mean to?” she repeated, her voice low and mocking. “Oh, little witch, you can’t undo what you’ve done. You sought something, didn’t you?”
You shook your head desperately. “It was a mistake! Please, I didn’t—”
Her fingers brushed your cheek, the coldness of her touch stealing the air from your lungs. “Don’t lie to me, mi pequeña hechicera.” Her tone was almost gentle, but her grip tightened, forcing you to meet her gaze. “You wanted power, didn’t you?”
“No! I just... I wanted to give thanks!”
She laughed—a sound that chilled you more than her touch. “So innocent,” she mused, her eyes scanning you like a predator sizing up its prey. “But you’ve caught my attention now. That’s a rare thing, little witch. And I don’t let go of what’s mine.”
The days that followed were a blur. You told Lilia what had happened, but she brushed it off as a fluke. “The veil is thin this time of year,” she said, her tone dismissive. “Spirits drift in and out. As long as you haven’t made a pact, you’ll be fine.”
But you weren’t fine.
Rio appeared everywhere: in your dreams, in the shadows of your home, even in the mirror when you glanced too long. Her voice whispered through the night, taunting and commanding.
“You can’t run from me,” she’d say.
She visited often, her presence growing more physical, more consuming. She’d appear in the garden while you tended the herbs, her cold fingers trailing down your arm as she made idle conversation about mortality and devotion. She took pleasure in your discomfort, in the way you squirmed under her gaze.
Lilia began to notice your growing paranoia. “You’re restless,” she said one morning, setting a cup of tea in front of you. “You’re always looking over your shoulder.”
You didn’t tell her about the mark Rio had left on your wrist—a faint sigil that burned cold to the touch. “It’s nothing,” you lied, though the truth sat heavy in your chest.
That night, Rio came to you again, this time at your bedside. She sat at the edge, her cloak cascading like ink across the floor. Her hand rested against your leg, deceptively gentle, but her grip left no room for escape.
“You’re wasting your time pretending you can avoid me,” she said, her tone soft but laced with menace.
“What do you want from me?” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes.
Her smile was slow, predatory. “I want you. All of you. Your loyalty, your magic, your very soul if I decide I want it.” Her fingers traced up your arm, cold and deliberate. “But don’t worry, little witch. I’ll take good care of you. You’ll see.”
“I don’t want this,” you said, though your voice shook with the weight of her presence.
Her eyes darkened, and the room seemed to pulse with her energy. She leaned closer, her face inches from yours. “What you want doesn’t matter, mi amor. You’re mine now.”
She pressed a cold kiss to your forehead, and the darkness claimed you.
Waking up the next morning felt like surfacing from a deep, suffocating sea. The sunlight streaming through your window seemed sharper, almost invasive. But no matter how bright the day, you couldn't shake the chill in your bones.
Rio's words echoed in your mind: "You're mine now."
Your hand strayed to your wrist where her mark lay, a sigil faint yet undeniable. You’d hoped it would fade like some lingering nightmare, but it burned ice-cold beneath your touch, a tether you couldn’t sever.
Lilia's voice startled you as she called from the kitchen. "You’re up early," she said as you shuffled in, your unease masked by the calm of routine. She didn’t know what lurked in the shadows. She couldn’t see how the air felt heavier, how it seemed charged with an oppressive, otherworldly energy.
You didn’t tell her. How could you? Lilia had always been the stronger one—both in magic and temperament. But this? Even her power seemed insignificant compared to Rio’s suffocating presence.
"Couldn’t sleep," you muttered, avoiding her gaze as you poured a cup of tea.
Her eyes narrowed. “Have you been dabbling again?” she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.
You shook your head quickly. "No! I..." The lie almost choked you. You turned away before she could question further.
But that night, Rio returned.
This time, she didn’t wait for your compliance or conversation. You felt her before you saw her: the air in your room grew frigid, your breath misting as shadows coalesced at the foot of your bed. When she appeared, her form was draped in dark elegance, her silver eyes alight with a predatory gleam.
“You can’t avoid me forever,” she said, her voice low and intimate.
“I wasn’t trying to summon you,” you protested, your hands clenching the blanket tightly.
“Ah, but that’s the beauty of it,” she replied, tilting her head. “You don’t have to. You and I are connected now, little witch. Did you really think you could make a call to the beyond and walk away unscathed?”
You stared at her, your voice caught in your throat.
She stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring every step that brought her nearer to you. Her cold fingers brushed your chin, forcing you to meet her piercing gaze.
“You don’t understand yet,” she murmured, her voice a dark lullaby. “But you will.”
"Understand what?" you whispered, your voice trembling.
"That you were meant to be mine," she said, her lips curving into a smile that was equal parts alluring and terrifying. "I’ve taken kings, queens, and warriors. But you?” Her hand moved to cradle your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly across your skin. “You’ll be my greatest treasure."
Tears welled in your eyes as her words sank in, the weight of them pressing down on you like a suffocating fog. “Please, let me go,” you whispered.
Her laugh was soft and cruel. “Oh, little one, I am letting you go. For now. But you’ll come to me willingly. You’ll see that no one else can give you what I can.”
Before you could protest, she leaned closer, her cold lips grazing your ear. “Don’t fight it,” she whispered. “It’s so much sweeter when you surrender.”
And just as quickly as she appeared, she vanished, leaving you alone in the chilling silence of your room.
But the mark on your wrist pulsed faintly, a reminder that her claim on you was far from over.
The following days blurred together in a haze of paranoia and unease. Rio’s presence was no longer a subtle weight lingering at the edges of your consciousness; it was suffocating. She came and went as she pleased, making herself a constant in your life whether you wanted it or not.
It was on one of those nights, when you were too tired to fight sleep, that she made her move.
Your room was pitch dark, the stillness broken only by the faint rustle of the wind outside. A frigid touch on your ankle jolted you awake, and there she was—seated on the edge of your bed, her silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight spilling through the curtains.
"Did I startle you, mi pequeña bruja?" she murmured, a sly smile pulling at her lips.
"Get out," you said, voice trembling but firm. "You're not welcome here."
Rio tilted her head, her silver eyes glinting as though your defiance amused her. "Oh, but I don’t need permission anymore. You already belong to me."
She leaned forward, her fingers ghosting over your arm, cold and unnervingly gentle. "Why do you keep fighting when it only makes things harder for you?" Her voice was deceptively soothing, like the calm before a storm.
"I don't want any of this," you snapped, pulling your arm away.
Her smirk darkened. "You don't know what you want."
With a flick of her wrist, the mark on your skin flared icy blue, a sharp, stinging reminder of the bond she’d tethered to you. Your gasp of pain made her smile widen.
"You’re so delicate," she purred, her hand moving to cradle your face. "So easily broken. But don’t worry, mi amor, I’ll take care of you."
Her touch traveled lower, fingers brushing over your collarbone. It wasn’t tender, not really. It felt more like a claim—a slow, deliberate reminder of who held the power. You wanted to recoil, to push her away, but your body betrayed you. Whether it was fear, magic, or something darker, you stayed frozen under her gaze.
"Such a sweet little thing," she murmured, leaning down until her face was only inches from yours. Her breath was cold against your skin, sending chills racing down your spine. "Fighting me won’t work, little one. You’ll see soon enough... submission will feel so much better."
“Rio...” Your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.
"Shh," she cooed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "No need to speak. Just listen. Feel."
Her lips hovered over yours, teasingly close, but she didn’t press forward. Instead, she shifted to your neck, her cold lips grazing your skin. It wasn’t gentle; it felt calculated, like she wanted to leave an impression that would haunt you long after she was gone.
"You can run from others," she said against your skin, her voice low and dangerous, "but you can’t run from me. I am death. I am the end and the beginning. You’ll find no escape, only inevitability."
Tears welled in your eyes, frustration and fear mingling into a knot in your chest. "Please..."
"Please, what?" she asked, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. Her eyes held a wicked gleam, and her lips curled into a smirk. "You don’t even know what you’re asking for, little witch. But I’ll give you what you need—even if you’re too afraid to see it now."
Her thumb brushed across your lower lip, and the intimate gesture sent a shiver down your spine. She smiled at your reaction, clearly pleased by your discomfort.
"I’ll come for you again soon," she whispered, pressing a final, icy kiss to your forehead before vanishing into the shadows.
You were left trembling and alone, the cold feeling of her touch lingering long after she’d gone.
Things started to turn for the worse.
It started small—your spells backfiring, draining your energy faster than they should. Then there were the whispers that filled the silences, impossible to ignore. They weaved promises and threats into your mind:
"You’ll never be safe without me."
"You’re too fragile for this world."
"Submit, and I’ll give you everything you’ve ever desired."
Your independence chipped away with every moment you spent second-guessing yourself.
It was Lilia who first noticed. “Your magic is unraveling,” she said one evening, her brow furrowed in concern as she studied you. “You need to center yourself. What’s happening?”
You bit your lip, unwilling to tell her. If she knew Rio had staked a claim on you, she’d try to intervene—and that terrified you. What could even Lilia, with all her skill and confidence, do against someone like Rio? You’d seen what she was capable of. The mere thought of angering her again sent chills racing through you.
“I’ll figure it out,” you lied. “It’s nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing.
One quiet evening, you sat on the floor of the cottage, sifting through spellbooks in a desperate attempt to find a way to break Rio’s mark. The text in front of you blurred as exhaustion overtook your focus, but as you pushed yourself harder, the candles in the room flickered.
And there she was.
“Still trying to fight me?” Rio’s voice sent a sharp stab of panic through your chest.
Your head shot up, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. She stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. She looked almost amused as her silver eyes tracked your every move.
"You shouldn’t overwork yourself, mi bruja," she chided, stepping into the room with a predatory grace. "It’s adorable that you’re trying, though."
“Why?” The question burst out of you, raw and desperate. “Why me? I’m nobody—nothing compared to what you are. Just leave me alone!”
Rio’s expression softened, but not in the comforting way you’d hoped. It was mocking, tinged with something cruelly possessive. She crouched down in front of you, one hand tilting your face toward her.
“Nothing? You’re far from nothing,” she said, her voice quiet, dangerous. “You’re mine. And I take very good care of what’s mine.”
She held your gaze, her thumb brushing over your cheek as her hand cradled your face. The touch felt deceptively soft, but you knew better by now. You flinched, trying to pull away, but she grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.
“Do you understand what I’ve done for you?” Her tone was still soft, almost coaxing. “I’ve been patient. I’ve let you run around, pretending you have a choice. But you’re so fragile, little one. Look at you—drained, lost, stumbling around like a child in the dark.”
Tears welled in your eyes. “I don’t need you.”
Rio smiled, and it chilled you to the core. “You already do,” she said simply.
She waved her hand, and the mark on your wrist burned cold. You gasped in pain, the chill spreading through your arm and radiating into your chest. Your mind swam with an overwhelming sense of loss, fear, and longing—emotions you couldn’t separate from each other anymore.
“Every time you resist me, this world will hurt you more,” Rio said, her tone matter-of-fact. “But I can give you strength, protection, peace. All you have to do is let me in.”
When she released you, the weight of her absence felt like a part of you had been torn away. It was the cruelest trick—making you long for her presence just to feel whole.
“I’ll come back when you’re ready,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of a promise. “And trust me, you will be ready soon.”
You curled into yourself as she disappeared, your tears falling freely. Deep down, you realized she was twisting something inside you, warping your resolve piece by piece.
And you hated that it was working.
The days that followed were a blur of fear, anger, and desperation. You threw yourself into research, scouring every book, every scrap of magical knowledge you could find. Somewhere, there had to be a way to undo Rio's mark—a way to sever the connection that bound her to you.
You thought you could handle it alone. But the strain wore at you, gnawing away at your confidence. The more you tried to use magic, the more you felt the weight of her influence. Every spell fizzled out, every incantation felt heavier, harder to manage. The mark on your wrist would burn whenever you pushed too hard, as if Rio were reminding you of her presence, taunting you from afar.
Lilia was beginning to notice the cracks in your facade. Her watchful eyes lingered on you longer than they used to, her questions more pointed.
"You’re restless," she said one evening as the two of you shared dinner. "Something’s wrong, and it’s not just the magic. Tell me what’s going on."
"I told you, I’m fine," you muttered, stabbing at your plate without appetite.
"You’re not fine," she shot back, her voice firm but not unkind. "I’ve seen the way your spells falter, how distracted you’ve been. This isn’t just fatigue, is it?"
You clenched your fists, your mind racing for an excuse, but nothing felt believable enough. The truth clawed at your throat, but you swallowed it down. If you told her about Rio, she’d try to intervene. She’d confront her, and that... that terrified you more than anything.
"I just need time," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
But time wasn’t on your side.
That night, you tried again—a simple purification spell, something Lilia had taught you years ago. You whispered the words with as much conviction as you could muster, pouring all of your focus into the magic. But no sooner had the energy begun to flow than the mark on your wrist ignited in sharp, icy pain.
Your concentration shattered, the spell sputtering out like a candle in the wind.
You spun around to find Rio standing in the corner of the room, her presence dominating the space. Her silver eyes gleamed in the dim light, a predatory smile playing on her lips.
"I won’t let you control me," you said, your voice shaking but resolute.
Rio’s smile faltered, and for a moment, her eyes darkened with something you couldn’t quite place—anger, disappointment, or perhaps something deeper.
"Oh, little witch," she said, her voice lowering as she stepped even closer. “This isn’t control. It’s inevitability. The sooner you accept that, the less this will hurt.”
She reached for your wrist, her fingers brushing over the mark. You tried to pull away, but her grip tightened like a vice, cold and unyielding.
“This bond between us? It’s permanent. You can run, you can scream, you can even try to break it. But in the end, you’ll realize there’s no escaping me.”
Her words sent a shiver down your spine, not just because of their weight, but because part of you believed her.
“I don’t want this,” you said, tears slipping down your cheeks.
Her expression softened in a way that felt almost genuine. “You think you don’t,” she said softly. “But I see what you need—what you crave. Protection. Purpose. Someone who will never leave you, no matter what. And that someone is me.”
Her hand moved to cup your cheek, her cold touch sending a jolt of conflicting emotions through you. You hated how your body froze under her gaze, how her words seeped into the cracks in your resolve.
"You’re lying," you managed to say, though your voice wavered.
"Am I?" she asked, tilting her head. "Then why haven’t you told your sister about me? Why haven’t you begged her to save you?"
Your breath hitched.
Rio’s smile returned, slow and knowing. "Because deep down, you already know the truth. You can’t live without me now, little one. And the longer you fight it, the more painful it will be."
Her lips ghosted over your forehead in a mockery of tenderness. “Don’t worry, my darling. I’m patient. I’ll wait until you finally understand.”
And then, just like that, she was gone, leaving you trembling and alone, the echoes of her voice ringing in your mind.
As much as you wanted to deny it, there was a part of you—buried deep and growing louder—that couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.
The days blurred into weeks, each one more suffocating than the last. Rio’s words haunted you, weaving their way through your thoughts, tangling with your fears, and distorting your sense of reality. You tried to keep your distance from her, to focus on breaking free, but every step you took seemed to bring her closer, as though she were guiding you down a path only she could see.
Lilia began to notice. She asked more pointed questions, spent more time watching you. "You’re withdrawing," she said one evening, her gaze steady. "It’s like something is... draining you."
You tried to smile, to lie like you always did, but the exhaustion was etched into every corner of your being. Your spells continued to fail. Your magic, once vibrant and alive, was now a hollow, unpredictable force. And in your weakest moments, you thought about her—Rio, her promises, her cold, comforting touch. It disgusted you, terrified you. But it was impossible to ignore.
You closed your eyes tight, shaking your head against her words. But when you opened them, she was there, seated in the chair by the window as though she had always been part of the room. Her silver eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight, her presence commanding every inch of space.
"I see the cracks forming," she said softly, rising from her seat. She moved to the bed, her steps deliberate, graceful, like a predator approaching wounded prey.
Tears pricked at your eyes, but you didn’t pull away. Her touch was cold but grounding, anchoring you in a way you couldn’t explain. She leaned closer, her presence overwhelming, her scent intoxicating despite the chill that radiated from her.
“You’re mine,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your temple. “Say it.”
“I’m not...” you tried to say, but the words faltered. Your resolve was crumbling, the weight of her presence too much to bear.
Tears brimmed in your eyes, frustration boiling over. “You’ve taken everything from me! My magic, my freedom, my mind—you’ve ruined me!”
For a moment, something shifted in Rio’s expression. Regret? No, it was something darker—possessive satisfaction. "I didn’t ruin you," she said softly. "I saved you. You just haven’t accepted it yet."
Her grip tightened, her nails digging into your skin—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who was in control. "You’ve been trying so hard to hold on to who you were, but that girl is gone, my love. There’s no place for her in my world. Only the new you—the one I’m creating."
“I don’t want to be yours!” you screamed, your voice cracking.
She didn’t flinch. Instead, she smiled, the calm, knowing smile of someone who already knew how this story ended. "Oh, but you are. Deep down, you’ve already given yourself to me. That’s why you’re so afraid, isn’t it? You’ve realized there’s no way back."
Her lips brushed your temple, cold and cruel. You tried to turn away, but she held you firm, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Soon, you won’t even want to fight me.”
That was it. Something inside you snapped.
“No!” you screamed, shoving her away with every ounce of strength you had left. She stumbled back a step, her eyes widening—not in anger, but surprise.
You turned and ran.
You tore through the cottage, your feet pounding against the floorboards. Your mind was a whirlwind of fear and fury. You didn’t care where you were going, only that you had to get away from her.
But no matter how fast you ran, the air grew colder. The shadows seemed to chase you, reaching out with invisible fingers. And then you heard her voice, calm and unbothered, echoing through the halls.
"Where are you going, mi bruja? There’s nowhere you can run."
You reached the back door, flinging it open into the storm outside. Rain lashed at your face, but you didn’t stop. You stumbled into the forest, your lungs burning, your clothes soaked to the skin.
For a brief, desperate moment, you thought you might escape. But then she appeared, stepping out of the shadows as if she had always been there, waiting for you to fall.
Her hair was untouched by the storm, her dress pristine despite the mud and rain. She was perfect, unyielding, and terrifying.
"Running from me," she said softly, tilting her head. "Such a waste of energy, my little witch."
You dropped to your knees, sobs wracking your body. “What do you want from me?” you choked out, your voice barely audible over the storm.
Rio knelt before you, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Her touch was cold as ever, but this time, it felt like surrender.
“I want you,” she said simply, her voice steady. “Completely. Your mind, your body, your soul. No resistance. No hesitation. Only me.”
Her silver eyes bore into yours, unrelenting. “And you’ll give it to me. Maybe not today, but soon. You can fight, you can scream, but in the end, you’ll see. You’ll belong to me.”
You wanted to deny her, to scream that she was wrong. But as her cold embrace closed around you, your resolve wavered. Deep down, a terrifying truth was beginning to take root.
What if she was right?
What if she already had you?
The storm outside had long subsided, but inside, the air hung heavy with an ominous stillness. Rio stood before you in the dimly lit room, her patience worn thin, the faint amusement she often carried replaced with a chilling determination.
"I’ve given you every chance to accept the inevitable," she said, her voice devoid of the feigned gentleness she had once used to coax you. "But your stubbornness has tested my patience for the last time."
Her words chilled you to the bone, but you refused to respond, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor as if defiance alone could shield you from her power.
"You want to run, don’t you?" Rio continued, stepping closer. Her footsteps echoed like a countdown, each step pulling you further into the abyss. "But even now, you’re beginning to realize how futile that is. Still, you force my hand."
Before you could move, her cold, ghostly grip was on your wrist, the mark she had burned into your skin igniting with searing pain. You gasped, the agony buckling your knees, but she didn’t relent.
“You will break, mi bruja, and I will be the one to mold the pieces.” Her silver eyes bore into yours, devoid of mercy, her grip like steel.
You struggled weakly, your magic sputtering like dying embers, but Rio’s hold was suffocating, her aura pressing against you like an iron vice.
“I didn’t want it to come to this,” she murmured, her voice so low it was almost a whisper. “But you’ve left me no choice.”
A swirling darkness spread from her fingertips, creeping up your arm like tendrils of night. It burned and froze at the same time, sinking into your very soul, wrapping around your mind with suffocating intensity. You gasped, clawing at her arm, but there was no escaping it.
The mark on your wrist seemed to come alive, glowing a sinister black-red as Rio leaned closer, her voice wrapping around you like the enchantment it was.
"Let go," she whispered. “Let me in, or I will take what I want, no matter how much it hurts you.”
Her free hand trailed up to your face, her cold touch sending waves of chilling energy through your body. It wasn’t gentle—her fingers dug into your skin, possessive and unyielding. She forced you to meet her gaze, her silver eyes alight with dark promise.
“You’ve fought so hard, little witch,” she said softly, brushing a tear from your cheek with her thumb. “But that fight ends now. You will give me everything.”
The tendrils of dark magic tightened their grip, pushing into your thoughts, your memories, your very essence. Your protests died in your throat as she overwhelmed you, her presence filling every corner of your being.
"You will beg me for release," she hissed, her lips brushing against your ear. "You will cry for me, call for me, and when you’re too broken to fight, you will thank me for taking what was always mine."
Something deep within you cracked under the weight of her will, her magic, her voice. The resistance you had clung to so fiercely now seemed pointless, your very self slipping through your grasp like sand in a tide.
As your vision blurred, Rio’s lips curled into a victorious smile. “That’s it,” she said softly. “Finally, you understand.”
Your body trembled, weak and defenseless, as the last vestiges of defiance crumbled. The dark tendrils enveloped you fully, binding you to her completely, until there was nothing left but her cold embrace.
You didn’t know when the tears stopped, or when the weight in your chest gave way to hollow acceptance. But as Rio cradled you against her, her grip like a chain and her smile like a noose, you realized the fight was over.
You were hers. Completely.
_-_-_
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#rio vidal x reader#dark fanfiction#agatha all along#agatha harkness x reader#rio vidal#agathario#aubrey plaza#wlw
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— MR. FIREFIGHTER.
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Christopher Bahng x fem. reader
TROPE. firefighter! au, neighbors! au, coincidences, power outage.. hehe
WARNINGS. cursing? chan being a firefighter bc HELLO
AUG'S NOTES. hi hi, ya’ll wanted more firefighter! chris? me too i gotcha
In a neighborhood like yours, power outages were common. But of course, with your luck just moving here, nobody paid any mind telling you.
Perhaps that’s the best explanation as to how you ended up at a strangers doorstep, your phone’s flashlight making the entire experience look a thousand times more pathetic the longer you shifted from foot to foot.
You’d been plugging in your charger, only for your entire bedroom to fall pitch black. Initially, you assumed it was simply a broker malfunction, leading to—after carefully hobbling out to the garage—a multitude of failed attempts to ensue.
About halfway from leaving does the front door open, and upon turning around are you met with a sight pitifully breathtaking.
Blond, messy hair rests atop a well sculpted face, masculine features on tanned skin, dark chocolate eyes belonging to that of the finest sweets.
“Hello?” He asks, voice thick with an accent you deem Australian.
“Oh yeah uh, the.. the power?” Winding your index around haphazardly, the man looks you up and down (an action that shouldn’t have brought such blood to your face), glancing around and wetting his lips before inviting you inside.
Sure, he may be a serial killer, but if that man strangled you, you’re not sure you’d be too upset. Shameless, but who disagreed?
Without a word nor greeting, he slinks into a small kitchen area, leaving you to curiously investigate your surroundings. You note the huge, beige boots by the doorway, the firefighter’s hat lingering on a coat hook.
And he’s a firefighter? Good fuck have mercy.
“‘Happens a lot,” The frustratingly attractive stranger grumbles as you enter the living area, candle-light illuminating the plushness of his lips. It takes you a moment to register he’s talking, too busy reigning yourself into a sane headspace.
He hands you a small mug of tea that’s warm to the touch, beckoning you to take a seat.
“And by the looks of it,” He laughs a low, bemused laugh. “You didn’t know that…?”
“Y/n, it’s Y/n.” You introduce, sipping the steaming beverage carefully.
“Scared?”
“Mm, little bit.” Truthfully answering, you scorn your bashfulness, hating how the way he’s merely looking at you disorients every sensible article of your brain.
Reaching forward, he fondly pats your head, eyes crinkling in the corners when smiling.
Just then you abandon all hope of remaining civilized.
“There’s nothin’ to be scared of, just light some candles ‘n wait it out. Plus, it’s good sleeping conditions.”
If he keeps talking you’re certain you’ll dig a human sized hole and bury yourself in it, because of course you had to knock on his door, him who you’ve become smitten with without even knowing his name.
Before you can apologize for likely waking him up, he interjects.
“But be careful with candles. ‘Don’t wanna start a fire.”
Recalling his firefighter status, you raise your brows, leaning back into the cushions.
“You’d save me, right Mr. Firefighter?”
Momentarily, surprise etches his face.
He grins.
“Nah I’d—”
You smack his arm and he laughs—a kind of laugh that makes the entire room burst alight.
“Of course I would. And It’s Chan by the way, but you can call me Chris.”
Already getting comfortable with conversation, you rest your chin upon your hand, studying.
His mannerisms (as much as his looks could kill) are rather adorable. They’re nervous, fiddling opposed to the career he chose.
A man with a deadly duality.
Charming.
“Oh? Nickname privileges?” You mischievously pique, witnessing that shyness once more.
He covers his face with his hands, dissolving into the couch, evidently embarrassed. The urge to continue becoming irresistible.
“Say, Chris, are you flirting with me?”
Peering through his fingers, Chris’ lips pull tug upward slightly, seeming to mirror your sly attitude.
“I don’t know, am I?”
Perhaps it’s your imagination, but his voice seriously just lowered a pitch and all ability to bite back has turned to dust. And now you can certainly say your feelings are justified, especially from his eyes. Brown hues boring into you, sending your heart a thundering mess.
No, no no, don’t say that. That’s not fair.
As if on cue the lights flash awake and you spring up from your place, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks.
Barely making it out the door before Chris pulls you back around, his hand loosely grasps your wrist, stuffing a piece of paper into your palm adorning that same stupid smile you’re effortlessly falling in love with.
Inside his number is written, and more than ever you feel like a teenage girl passing notes to her boyfriend in class.
“Just in case,” He claimed, clearing his throat as if that would magically cure his noticeably pink ears.
Take it back, you’re both teenage losers fighting to see who cracks first. Nervous wrecks, red faces.
“In case my house burns down?”
“That’s a plus, yep.”
“You’re awful.”
Chris, walking you up to your door despite being a mere foot away, giggles his delight, bidding you good night. But seconds before he turns around it’s your turn to be spontaneous, and you press a soft kiss to his cheek prior to racing inside, shutting the door as quickly as possible.
Oh my god. Oh my god.
Covering your mouth with your hands in order to suppress the utter squeal threatening to break your lungs, you feel seconds from physically imploding — ignorant to the fact that outside the door, Chris is currently doing the same thing.
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
#stray kids fluff#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz x reader#straykids x y/n#straykids x you#straykids x reader#skz fluff#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#bangchan x y/n#bangchan x female reader#bangchan x you#bangchan x reader#bang chan x gender neutral reader#bang chan x female reader#bang chan x you#bang chan x y/n#bang chan x reader#bang chan fluff#bangchan fluff#christopher bang x reader
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Hi! Could I please request a one shot where Harry is sick maybe during tour and his gf has to take care of him? Thank you! I love your writing!
a/n: thank you so much for liking my work, it truly means a lot! it's a little short but I still hope you'll like it <3
sick on tour
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The hotel room is quiet except for the noise of the air conditioning and the occasional sniffle from the lump of blankets curled up in the middle of the king-sized bed. The curtains are drawn, shielding the bright city lights outside from intruding on the peaceful, dimly lit space. Harry has always liked his hotel rooms cozy—candles on the nightstand, his favorite hoodie draped over the chair, and the softest pillows he could find. But tonight, none of it seems to bring him comfort.
You stand at the edge of the mattress, arms crossed, watching Harry sulk into his pillow. His curls are a mess, sticking to his slightly damp forehead, his nose a little pink from the fever, and yet—despite looking absolutely miserable—he’s still trying to convince you he’s fine.
“I can do the show,” he rasps, voice hoarse and scratchy. He attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, but the movement sends him into a fit of coughing. You sigh and press a hand to his chest, gently urging him back down.
“Baby, no. You can barely sit up.”
He frowns, brows knitting together like a petulant child. “S’just a little cold.”
“You have a fever, a sore throat, and you sound like you swallowed sandpaper,” you point out, smoothing your fingers over his clammy forehead. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Harry grumbles something incoherent and burrows further into the pillows. You can tell he hates this—hates being taken care of, hates being seen as anything less than strong. But the thing is, to you, he’s always strong. Even now, curled up in a nest of tissues and blankets, he’s still the man you love more than anything.
Tour has been brutal on him lately. Night after night of performing, giving his all to the crowds that adore him, leaving every ounce of himself on that stage. He never complains—not about the exhaustion, not about the jet lag, not about the toll it takes on his body. But you see it in the way his shoulders slump when he thinks no one is looking, the way his voice is a little more raw each morning, the way he clings to you just a little tighter when he finally collapses into bed at the end of the night.
“I can’t cancel, though,” he whispers after a long moment, his voice laced with guilt. “They’ve probably spent so much money—flights, hotels, tickets, clothes and waited months just to see me. I can’t let them down, I just can't.”
You soften, understanding where his frustration is coming from. Harry has always carried the weight of his fans' happiness on his shoulders, always put them first. It’s one of the many reasons you love him—but right now, he needs to put himself first.
You take his hand in yours, rubbing slow, comforting circles over his knuckles. “Harry, sweetheart, I already spoke to Jeff. He and the team handled everything. They put out a statement, rescheduled the show, and made sure the fans know how much you care about them Not that they need a statement anyway. They know how much you love them.”
His brows furrow. “You—”
“I took care of it,” you interrupt gently. “So you don’t have to worry, okay? The fans love you, but they love you healthy and not sticky. You can’t give them the show they deserve if you push yourself too hard now. That is not what they deserve.”
Harry lets out a slow breath, his tense shoulders easing just a fraction. He still looks guilty, but there’s also relief in his tired eyes. “You really talked to Jeff?”
You nod. “Of course. Your health comes first, baby. Now please let me take care of you."
You slip out of the room quietly and return with a damp cloth, gently dabbing it against his forehead. The coolness makes him sigh, his tense shoulders relaxing under your touch. Then, you hold up a spoonful of honey-laced tea to his lips. He scrunches his nose but accepts it, swallowing with a soft grimace.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice slightly clearer now.
You smile and brush your fingers over his cheek. “Of course, my love.”
After making sure he’s warm enough, you reach for the small bowl of soup on the nightstand that you kindly asked form the hotel staff. “Just a little, H. You need something in your stomach other than medicine.”
"The fans would've probably ask for me to sing medicine tonight but they can't because I need it. The irony." He said, trying to lighten the room up with a joke but cough wave that crushed him once again.
"Drink Harry." You said sternly.
He looks at you like he wants to argue, but he knows better. You lift the spoon to his lips, and after a moment’s hesitation, he leans forward and takes a bite. A small, content sigh escapes him, and you can’t help but grin.
“You’re good at this,” he mutters, sleep beginning to weigh heavy on him.
“I'm just good at loving you lovie,” you reply simply, brushing back his curls as he lets his eyes drift shut.
His fingers reach for yours under the blanket, giving them a weak squeeze. “Love you more.”
You sit beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his fever-warmed temple. “Just rest, my love. I’ve got you.”
And with the way he sighs, relaxing into your touch, you know he believes you.
Tomorrow, he’ll probably try to argue again. Try to tell you he feels fine, that he’s ready to get back out there, to put on another show. But for tonight, he’s yours to take care of. And you wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#fluff#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles x female reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles x y/n#harry styles love on tour#harry styles fic rec#fic rec
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hiii idk if you take requests for smut but if you do i have an idea for sam, i just think sam would be such a gentle lover with an inexperienced reader and it’d be so 🫠🫠🫠
delicate.
sam winchester x fem!reader, 4.1k, nsfw 18+, fingering, p in v, praise, size kink if you squint, somewhat softdom!sam, inexperienced!reader — requests are open
Sam knew to be delicate with her.
As his hands traced the outline of her body through her clothes, as he felt the heat of her mouth against his own, the weight of her settled in his lap as they made out, he knew to keep his touch gentle, his kisses passionate yet not overbearing.
A few days before the first time they’d had sex, she’d gotten out through the hands that she’d used to hide her blushing face that she really hadn’t done much sexually before. Nothing more than a few PG-13 make out sessions and above-clothes groping. It had taken her a while to admit it, she’d been so horribly embarrassed, but Sam sat and rubbed her back as he listened, because he didn’t ever want her to feel embarrassed with him about that stuff.
Alright, he wasn’t exactly a saint. He’d gone to college, hooked up a bit, had a girlfriend, and then had his fair share of nights with other women afterwards until he met Y/N, but he didn’t see her any differently for not having done those things. It didn’t sit well with him that she might’ve been worried about his reaction to her sex life, or lack thereof.
In all honesty, it just made him want to make it special for her, as horribly cliché as that sounded.
So a few days after that conversation, he’d taken her virginity. It hadn’t been all rose petals and tea-light candles and silk sheets, but he’d dressed up nicely and taken her to dinner, took her back to a nicer motel room than they usually resided in, and took his time with her. Got himself accustomed to her body, her reactions, what she liked and didn’t like, what made her breathing shudder and left her keening beneath him. Left her satisfied enough to fall asleep happily in his arms once they’d finished, left himself burning with pride that he’d made her feel so good.
It had been some months since that night, and whilst they’d had sex a few more times since the first — he’d slowly introduced her to new things, had her cum around his cock and his fingers and on his tongue (which was his personal favourite), atop and beneath him, in a bed and a shower and on a sofa — she was still pretty shy. Sam thought it was fucking attractive that he could get her blushing and panting from a few simple touches, but he still didn’t tease her about it. He made sure to take his time, not to overwhelm her or take things too fast than she was comfortable with. She was still pretty new to it all, he wanted her to enjoy it, not feel like it was stressful.
He could barely contain the groan that rumbled from the back of his throat as he felt her hands thread through his hair, her smaller fingers curled around the strands in a way that drove him crazy. Seeing her slowly edge out of her shell over the past few months had been so fucking enjoyable, even when it was just down to simple touches like that. Four months ago and she would’ve asked three times before even just touching his hair.
“God, sweetheart-” His fingers flexed against her waist and brought her as close as physically possible, her thighs warm against his where they bracketed them, her stomach pressed against his. The shitty motel mattress beneath them shifted slightly as they both moved, springs complaining under the shift in weight, but neither of them paid it any mind. “Love it when you get so needy.”
A huff of breath escaped her lips and she mumbled something indignant against his open mouth, and Sam let out a soft laugh, tipped his head back just slightly to look at her flushed-pink face.
“What was that?”
“I said don’t make fun.” She grumbled, eyes dipping down, and Sam felt as her fingers slowly started to retract from his hair.
“Ah-ah,” his hand lifted, lightly gripping one of her forearms to keep them there, before his head dipped down to press a chaste kiss to her inner elbow. “I’m not making fun, not at all,” his head tipped enough to press another kiss higher up her arm, until the soft cotton of her t-shirt brushed against his nose. “You should know how much I love you like this.”
His mouth finally reached her neck, and one of his hands slid up the length of her back to cup the base of her skull, and he slowly tipped her head back until the skin of her neck was a little more exposed. He didn’t miss the little breathy noises that escaped her as he kissed her neck, it made his cock twitch in his jeans, the denim suddenly far too tight.
“You sound so pretty, baby,” he mumbled the words against her warm skin before his lips pressed to her pulse point, and he felt as her pulse drummed beneath her skin. He couldn’t help but smile against it as he lightly sucked the skin into his mouth, just enough to pull another gasp from the depths of her chest. “So pretty.”
“Sammy-” Her fingers were twitching in his hair, grasped lightly before she shifted in his lap a little, and he knew she was a little too worked up to keep up with the lighter touches. They’d been making out for a while now, it had slowly progressed from softer pecks and light giggles to that need that thrummed beneath their skin. He liked getting her properly worked up and ready for him.
He knew her body enough now to know that her restlessness meant she was exactly that. Ready.
Sam left one last kiss against her neck before he leaned back enough to look at her face, and with a much more loving kiss against her mouth, he lightly tugged at one of her belt loops and mumbled, “Wanna take these off for me, honey?”
She didn’t really hesitate and nodded, before she climbed off of his lap to take off her trousers, let the material fall to the floor before she’d climbed back in his lap again, and the sight of her straddling his thighs in just her panties and t-shirt was enough for his cock to throb.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” Sam all but groaned as he leaned forwards to kiss her again. As his tongue probed at her bottom lip before it dipped into her mouth and licked behind her teeth, one of his hands gripped her hip, his other smoothed up the warm bare skin of her thigh before he cupped her sex through the cotton of her underwear, felt her warmth and her wetness, her light gasp into his open mouth at the touch. “All worked up for me, baby?”
She nodded dumbly, and a soft little gasp was pushed from her mouth as he slowly traced her through the wet fabric. “Please-”
“Shh, I know,” he pressed his lips to her cheek, her jaw, the side of her neck. “I know, just relax, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”
Sam’s fingers slipped beneath the elastic of her panties before he nudged two of his fingers through her folds, and as the warmth and the slick of her arousal coated them, his cock throbbed harder. “You’re already so wet for me,” he all but groaned into her neck as he started slowly rubbing her clit with the pads of his fingers. “So fucking perfect.”
Sam lived for the way she shuddered and gasped in his lap, the way he felt her fingers grip the material of his shirt as she tipped forwards slightly, her head rested against his. Though little gasped breathy noises were escaping her, she was still pretty quiet. Being noisy when they were having sex was something he knew she was shy about, but Sam didn’t urge her to be louder. He knew if he brought it up, it’d be all she’d think about, and he really didn’t want her to get in her own head about it. He much preferred letting her explore what she was comfortable with as he touched her, let her breathe her own reactions to the stimulation he provided until she was comfortable doing more.
This was all for her, after all.
Sam kissed and nibbled and sucked at her skin for a while as he paid close attention to her clit, switched from lazy circles with his fingers to long strokes against the length of them, until he and her and her underwear were completely soaked with her wetness. He didn’t try to move further until she was almost trembling in his lap, her hands grasped at his shoulders as she gasped and whimpered in response to his insistent rubbing.
His fingers lifted from her clit to press a little further into her underwear, and pressed the tip of his pointer finger against her entrance, holding it there as he murmured, “Is this okay?”
Y/N nodded immediately, and breathed out a “Please,” that sounded so deliciously needy that it took all he had not to cum in his fucking pants.
Sam slowly pushed his finger into her, felt the warmth and the tightness of her wet cunt around him, and fuck did he need to work her open a little before she’d be ready to take his cock.
His eyes flickered up to watch her expression as he slowly pumped his finger inside of her, and it was like fucking art the way she straddled his thighs, her hands grasped onto his shoulders, eyes half-lidded and lips parted enough to let out the soft breathy moans and whimpers every time his finger shifted to hit a spot inside of her that made her body shudder. He could watch her like that forever, could burn the image into his eyelids and happily stare at it any time he closed his eyes.
If that was her reaction to one finger, the thought of how she’d react to his cock fucking into her was enough to make him see stars.
When he added a second finger she keened and groaned, and the sound was so fucking good that Sam wanted to keep it, file it away in his brain to play whenever he wanted, whenever he needed to get himself off quickly in the shower on mornings he woke up with a hard on. It’d do the trick, Sam thought as he crooked his fingers inside of her and dragged out a replica of the first groan, it’d have him cumming in seconds.
Sam worked her open with his fingers until she was a mess, until all he heard was her blissful noises and the lewd wetness every time his fingers thrusted back inside of her. His free hand, which had been pressed against the small of her back to keep her close, lifted and cupped her face, and the fingers inside of her slowed to a lazy pace as he stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You wanna be on top, baby?”
She didn’t really respond. She’d gotten like this a few times, worked up and blissful to the point where she got a little lost, a little dazed. Sam’s thumb lightly pressed beneath her jaw and he tipped her head up, and the glassy look in her eyes was all he needed to see to know she needed to be brought back into herself.
“Hey,” his thumb stroked along her jaw a little firmly to ground her as his fingers stilled inside of her. “You with me, sweetheart?”
Y/N blinked, her lips parting with a soft breath before she mumbled, “Hm? Yeah, I’m-” She took a second breath. “Sorry-“
“Hey, no,” Sam shook his head, and slowly pulled his fingers out of her as he kissed her forehead. “Don’t apologise, you’re okay. Just breathe a moment.”
As she did as she was told and took some breaths, Sam never ceased the gentle rubbing of his thumb against her jaw. His eyes never left her face, he watched for any signs of discomfort, that she wanted to stop.
“You okay?”
She nodded, humming. “M’okay, I swear.”
“Still want to keep going?”
Again, she nodded. “Please.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” Sam pressed a soft kiss against her lips, before he leaned back to look at her as he repeated his original question, “Do you want to be on top?”
He saw the moment she blushed, overcome with shyness once again. “I… whatever you want-”
“No,” Sam briefly kissed her again. “What do you want?”
She paused, and really seemed to think about it that time, before she whispered, “Can you?”
“Can I what? Be on top?”
She nodded.
Sam kissed her again. “Of course.”
He moved his hands to her hips to help her off of his lap, and once she was sat staring up at him, hands planted on the mattress behind her somewhat to keep herself held up, Sam stood up to shed himself of his jeans, and watched as Y/N stripped herself of her shirt and Christ, he thought it was hot undressing her himself, but he could watch her do it for hours.
When they were both stripped naked Sam climbed over her on the bed. The mattress squeaked it’s protest beneath them again as he settled over her, and Sam couldn’t help but close the distance to kiss her again. Her mouth was warm against his and he groaned into it as his body pressed down against hers, pretty much covering her completely. His hips pressed into hers, his hard cock slid through her folds easily with how wet she was, and she felt the shudder that ran through her at the movement.
He reached down with his free hand and gripped the base of his cock, and slowly dragged his head through her folds, nudging her clit and back down, collecting her slick wetness on himself until she was gasping and tipping her hips upwards beneath him, and Christ what a fucking sight that was.
Sam dipped his head down enough to kiss her softly, and mumbled into her mouth, “Still want to?”
Y/N nodded immediately, her breaths hot and heavy as she exhaled against his mouth. “Uh-huh, yes- please-”
“Okay, baby, alright,” he kissed her once more. “I’ve got you.”
Using the hand he had gripped at the base of his cock, Sam lined himself up against her entrance before he tipped his hips forwards, slowly pushed the head of his cock inside of her, and he was barely inside of her when she clenched around him, and he almost fell onto her as a shiver wracked through his spine. “Fuck-”
The sounds she were making were beautiful, the little gasps and whimpers that swirled his mind in a delicious arousal that threatened to swallow him whole.
Sam took his time to push all the way inside of her. Even though he’d taken his time working her open with his fingers, she was still tight, and Sam wasn’t exaggerating or bragging, but he knew that he was big. He could see just from the blissed out look on her face that he was filling her up completely, and the sight alone almost made him cum before he’d even completed his first thrust.
He bottomed out and groaned, dipped his head down to mouth kisses against her throat as he stilled himself, just to allow her to adjust to the stretch. His words were a little strained as he breathed out, “Need a moment?”
He felt her nod, and from where he was mouthing his way up her neck, he felt the almost ragged rise and fall of her chest beneath him, her bare skin brushing against his own, and he could feel the warmth almost damp-with-sweat skin, her hardened nipples brushed against his chest with each inhale. She was perfect. Completely and utterly. He loved that he could get her like that — that she trusted him enough to get her like that.
After her neck had been littered with kisses once more and she’d had the time to breathe through the stretch of him sunken in her pussy, Sam felt her shifting beneath him slightly, her hips tilted as if she was trying to get him to move, and Sam couldn’t help the soft groan that built in the back of his throat. Y/N still wasn’t so good with words yet, asking for what she wanted or expressing her opinion unless he coaxed her into it, but God he loved it when she did that, coaxed him with her body, with a sinful shift of her hips.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Sam shifted his hips, pulling out slightly to slowly thrust back in, and his gut clenched at the noise she let out. “You’re so tight-” he clenched his teeth as he thrusted again, felt the way her warmth clenched around him like a fucking vice. “Feels so good for me.”
Sam kept with the slow deep thrusts, revealed in the drag of his cock against her walls, the way she keened and gasped beneath him whenever his head nudged against the spongy spot inside of her that he knew made her head spin. He took his time unraveling her beneath him, watched as her eyes rolled back and her lips parted with soft little breathy gasps each time his cock nudged deeper inside of her, sinful wet noises accompanied with each thrust.
“Sammy-” her voice was so whiny when she tangled her fingers in his hair again, and the slight tug on the roots made him groan, his own breathing ragged with each thrust.
Though when she took his reaction the wrong way, Sam felt her fingers retract from his hair, and he paused his movements to reach up and grasp her forearm lightly like he had done before, and kept her hand there. “Don’t do that.”
She blinked up at him, eyes fucking blown out with lust as she panted slightly. “But-”
Sam almost huffed a laugh as he realised that he had to spell it out for her. “I like it,” he mouthed a kiss at her jaw, wet and lazy. “Pull as hard as you want. Don’t be so shy, baby.”
When he started thrusting again she whined and gripped onto his hair tighter, in such a way that made his cock throb inside of her and his breathing stutter, and a strangled groan escaped him as he kissed her throat again.
“That’s it,” he panted, and sped up just slightly as she clenched around him a bit more frequently, she was close. “That’s it, there we go, good girl-” Sam grunted, exhaled hard against her throat as his forehead tucked against her neck. “Taking me so well-”
On a particular deep thrust of his hips she whimpered, tugged on his hair just a little harder, and Sam knew her well enough by that point to know what it meant.
“You feel close, baby?”
“Uh-huh-” she sounded pretty wrecked, all breathy as she panted and whimpered beneath him. “I’m-” Y/N sucked in a sharper breath through her teeth. “I’m gonna- oh, I can’t-”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Sam leaned back slightly to look down at her face when he heard as she got a little worked up again, and his hand reached up to cup her jaw, her cheek flushed and warm beneath his palm. “Easy, sweetheart. What do you need?”
She was blinking through the hazy bliss he knew was swimming through her entire body. “Can-” she breathed in again, and tilted her head to kiss his wrist softly, and if he hadn’t been fucking into her in that exact moment his heart would’ve burst with softness. “Can you do what you did last time? Please?”
Sam almost fucking came at the memory right then. A few times now she’d gotten a bit worked up when she came close to cumming and hadn’t been able to get there so easily, so the last time it had happened he’d helped he’d through it by rubbing her clit as he fucked her into her orgasm. And Sam still thought about the reaction he’d gotten, the face she’d made as she shuddered through her orgasm. He’d been dying to pull that reaction out of her again.
“‘Course, sweetheart,” his voice was hoarse and his breathing was ragged, and he mouthed more kisses against her throat. “Just breathe for me, okay? Let it happen.”
Sam kept one hand braced beside her head to keep himself held up above her, whilst his other moved between them until his fingers found her clit, slickened with her arousal that was soaking the both of them. The angle of his arm was a bit weird, but if it meant getting her there, it was perfect for him.
Y/N moaned, her back arched off of the mattress, and her grip on him was so tight it took all he had to hold himself off.
“There we go, that’s it,” Sam grunted into her neck, fingering tight little circles onto her clit as he continued to thrust into her, dragging the length of his cock at an angle that he knew left her shaking. “Such a good girl, fuck-” he inhaled through his teeth and groaned. “Want you to cum for me, baby, wanna hear those pretty noises.”
It didn’t take much. After a few more thrusts and undivided attention on her clit she came, hard, a breathless moan left her lips as she shuddered and clenched around him, her pussy pulsed in such a blissful way that Sam couldn’t even fucking help himself and he came with her. He moaned into her throat as he worked them both through their respective climaxes, and rutted against her a few more times before he groaned softly and rested his weight on top of her, his cock still inside of her as they both fought to catch their breath.
“Oh god baby,” Sam mouthed lazy wet kisses against her throat again, and his hand moved from her clit, flattening against the soft skin of her stomach and smoothing upwards until he could cradle her jaw in his hand. “You were so good for me,” he dropped another kiss. “So sweet,” another kiss. “So perfect.”
Her fingers had loosened in his hair, and instead she had just hooked her arm around his neck, kept him close to herself. She still breathed deeply, her skin was flushed and damp with sweat, her legs trembled slightly either side of his hips — she was so fucking pretty.
“You feel okay, sweetheart?” Sam tipped his head back enough to look down at her face, flushed pink, baby hairs stuck to her forehead with sweat. He lifted up his hand to brush them out of her face, before he smoothed the pad of his thumb over the hot skin of her cheek.
She nodded, and when her eyes met his, he saw the tiredness that had crept into her expression, the way her eyelids fluttered and she laid lax and practically boneless atop the mattress.
“Yeah?” He cupped her jaw again and tipped her chin up a little with his thumb. “Wanna talk to me?”
“I’m good, felt really good,” she mumbled, and one of her hands lifted to lightly wrap her fingers around the wrist of the hand he cupped her jaw with. “You’re… you make it really nice. Thank you.”
Sam chuckled softly, and dipped his head down to kiss her forehead. “Don’t need to thank me, sweetheart,” he kissed her again, before he murmured softly, “I’m gonna pull out, okay?”
Only after she’d nodded did he shift his hips again and pulled out slowly, and when he heard the way her breathing hitched, felt her little shudder, he lightly smoothed his hand over her stomach again. “Easy,” he murmured, voice soothing as he rubbed circles into her soft skin. “You okay?”
She hummed a little, blushing. “Just sensitive.”
“That’s okay, baby,” Sam tipped his head down again and captured her lips in a soft loving kiss, and took his time with it, rubbed calming circles into her skin for the duration of the kiss before he slowly pulled away and looked down at her pretty face. “I’m gonna go get a towel to clean you up, okay?”
Y/N smiled a little fondly as she nodded. “Okay.”
Sam kissed her once more before he finally pushed himself up and off of her, off of the bed entirely. But partway to the bathroom he paused and turned to face her, “Hey?”
She looked up, humming.
“I love you.”
Sam watched as she completely softened, watched as the soft little smile reserved for him crept onto her face, curling the corners of her mouth upwards. “Love you too.”
#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester drabble#sam winchester imagine#spn#spn fanfic#spnfandom#supernatural#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x y/n
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Afab reader B number 19 please
Sweet Little Cream Donut
Prompt: Breeding
Additional Tags: afab reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship (kinda?), body worship, size difference, oral (reader receiving), loss of virginity, squirting, creampie, cockwarming
WC: 2.5k
Event Masterlist
🔞 Minors DNI 🔞
“I don't know what to do anymore, Brulee,” you sighed to your sister-in-law, blowing on your tea before taking a sip of the hot sweet liquid. You'd spent a great deal of time with her since your wedding to Katakuri three months ago, and you felt comfortable talking to her about anything and everything. She loved her brother and wanted him to be happy, just as much as she wanted you to be happy with him.
“Have you talked to him about it?” She asked, stirring sugar into her tea, making small clinks as the spoon rubbed against the edge of the porcelain cup.
“I mean, I mentioned a few times that Mama has been more than enthusiastic about grandchildren,” you placed your teacup back down on the gold rimmed plate, “but he just gives a huff and changes the subject. He barely even kisses me. Maybe I'm not pretty enough for him”
“That is certainly not the case!” Brulee exclaimed, “sister, you are beautiful! A woman truly worthy of my darling big brother! I think perhaps… perhaps he's scared of hurting you? Hes always been a gentle soul”
“Mama chose me for a reason,” you pouted, “my people are larger than most, stronger, and she knew how much I want children when she picked me, he should know I'm more than capable of holding my own. Mama isn't stupid, she didn't pick some flimsy human for a reason”
“Maybe it's time to lay it on thick then,” Brulee suggested with a mischievous smile, “buy some pretty new lingerie, sweet perfume, light some candles, seduce him”
“Brulee!” You giggled, not expecting the woman to be so forward, “shopping trip then?”
“Shopping trip!” She clapped excitedly.
⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆
Katakuri was due in at any moment. He often had a meeting with Mama after dinner, as a Sweet Commander and the Minister of Flour it was important that he and the other ministers and commanders meet a few times a week to keep up to date with the happenings in Totto Land. Tonight was one of those meetings, so you'd had time to prepare for your grand scheme of seduction. Shaving every hair from your body, applying perfumes and lotions that smelt like baked goods, putting on a pretty new set of pink lingerie - a lace trimmed mesh mini dress and matching thong - and setting the mood with vanilla candles and soft music. Everything was ready and you paced the room nervously before finally settling on the edge of the bed, waiting for the heavy footsteps in the hall that signalled the approach of your husband.
Your legs rubbed together in anticipation, losing your virginity to such a large man was no small event, but it should have happened months ago on your wedding night, and you were more than ready for him to finally claim you. Not to mention, you were eager to present Mama with a grandchild - you wanted to fit in here, but the longer you went without signs of pregnancy, the more she subconsciously frowned in your presence. She was an intimidating woman, you wanted to please her.
Heavy footsteps and the unlatching of the door alerted you to Katakuri's arrival, and you stood tall as he entered. Your kind were large, yourself standing at 9 feet tall, but Katakuri was a giant of a man, almost twice your size at 16 feet. You picked at the cuticles of your fingers nervously as you waited for him to latch the door and turn to you, his expression unreadable as he noticed you standing there and took in your appearance and the romantic atmosphere. He removed his scarf slowly, he'd shown you his true face before the wedding, not wanting to force you into a marriage if you were going to be scared of him, and his nose wiggled as he smelt the sweet scents in the air.
“What is this?” He asked nervously.
“This is… me… asking you to take me to bed,” you tried to feign confidence but it was hard to form a coherent sentence or keep his eye. He languidly closed the space between you and fiddled with the hem of your dress, rubbing the thin silky fabric between his thumb and index.
“I take you to bed every night,” he stated.
“Kat… you know that's not what I mean,” your hand laid against his bare chest where his vest lay open, tracing one of the bright pink tattooed stripes that ran down it. He shivered under your touch and quickly took a step back, your hand falling limp to your side.
“I can't,” he said softly.
“Why not?” You pouted, feeling hurt at his rejection, “am I not pretty enough? Do you not want to give me children? Are you… are you ashamed of me?” A tear formed and rolled down your cheek as you admitted to the insecurities.
He was back in front of you in a flash, wiping the tear gently with his thumb, his large hand easily encompassing the entire side of your face as you leaned into it and looked at him longingly. “That's not it! You're beautiful, so unbearably stunning,” he quickly assured you, “I… I can barely keep myself from you, night after night, but I… I can't… I don't want to hurt you”
You held his hand to your face and blinked up at him, his sad expression looking out of place on his strong features. “You won't hurt me Kat, you have to trust that I'd tell you if you were hurting me. I'm not glass, I'm strong, Mama chose me for a reason. You won't hurt me. I want you, Katakuri, please”
His breath hitched as you found a new wave of confidence, running your hand up his chest and up to his jaw, tracing one of his sharp teeth with your fingertip, showing him how unafraid you were. Your hand ran back down as you circled him, Katakuri turning with you as though it were a dance, till his back was to the bed. You pressed against his chest and he let you move him, falling to sit on the bed as you climbed into his lap to straddle it. Raised on your knees you could just barely reach his mouth, and you pressed a hot, desperate kiss onto him, a small whine escaping him as you forced your tongue past his sharp teeth, wet muscles meeting and crashing against each other for the first time. You pushed the vest from his shoulders, letting it fall to the bed, and ran your hands over his body, guiding his hands to your waist before pulling him down by his neck so you could lower yourself to grind against his forming erection.
Your tongue ran up the scar on the side of his face till your mouth met his ear, tugging on the lobe with your teeth before whispering to him. “Breed me, Katakuri”
He made a possessive growl before grabbing your waist and flipping you both so you laid underneath him. His strong hands made quick work of your pretty new lingerie, tearing them from your body and revealing your soft bare skin that prickled with goosebumps as the cool night air touched it. Cool air replaced by hot wet saliva, his thick tongue ran over you, eagerly tasting and devouring every inch of you, making you moan and writhe as he sucked and nipped at your more sensitive spots, leaving marks over your entire body. The only place he avoided was your needy centre, teasing you and working you up as he touched and licked at your arms and legs and torso and neck, till finally he ran his tongue up your thigh and pushed your legs apart, groaning as he ran a fat stripe up your dripping virgin cunt. This flavour was all for him, nobody else would ever taste such delights, he thought to himself as he devoured you greedily.
You moaned and tugged at his short purple hair as he lapped and sucked at your sensitive pussy, rolling your clit with his tongue, his breath hot and vibrating against you as he let out satisfied groans and held your thighs around his face. He looked up at you with hungry eyes that had your hips rolling on their own accord, unintentionally riding his tongue as he grinned against you, careful to control your movements so as not to catch your soft plush thighs against his sharp teeth. You practically screamed from pleasure as his tongue bullied its way inside you, head falling to the pillow with a string of unabashed moans and back arching as he thrust it in and out of your tight entrance, before you suddenly shook and came on his tongue without warning. Katakuri made a contented growl and cleaned your release with his tongue, savouring your taste on it, his eyes closed and face relaxed as he drank you.
“So sweet,” he sighed, running his tongue through your folds once more like he couldn't get enough, “you're not ready for me yet though, I'll have to stretch that sweet tight hole a little more”
You moaned and bucked as he slid two thick fingers inside you, pumping you and scissoring his fingers to stretch you out, taking his time to get you open enough for him. He added a third, his tongue returning to your clit and distracting you from the slight sting of the stretch as he added a forth, the lewd wet squelch of your pussy almost deafening over the soft romantic music as he finger fucked you with increasing speed. One last flick of your clit with his tongue, and you were gushing around his hand, his brows raising in surprise at the volatile release before quickly lapping at it, his hand wet against your thigh as he held you tight to his face and groaned against you.
You were shaking and panting as he finally let your legs go, licking his lips and watching while your hips rolled off the bed, desperate for him to fill you. “Kat, please,” you moaned, “I want you so bad”
“I know my sweet,” he stood at the end of the bed and unzipped his pants teasingly slowly, kicking off his shoes and sliding his pants down till his monstrous cock sprang free, your breath catching in your throat at the sheer size of it. Your thighs rubbed together anxiously, wondering if you could even fit him all inside you. “I can't wait to fill you with my seed,” he purred as he climbed back onto the bed, your eyes greedily scanning every taut muscle that formed his large body, every tight corded bulge and curve that you craved to run your tongue over. You couldn't help but reach between your bodies and take his cock in your hand, so hot and hard, your hand far too small to wrap around it. He groaned and bucked into your palm, precum dripping from the tip as you stroked him experimentally.
“So big,” you whined, “want you to fill me up”
“I will, my sweet,” removing your hand gently as he began to position himself between your legs. Your eyes rolled as his fat tip pressed against your soaked entrance, his precum beading against you and adding to the lubrication. “You're gonna look so good when you're fat and round with my babies,” he purred, pressing into you devastatingly slow, your nails sinking into his forearms to make deep half moons as your pussy stretched around him. “There's a good girl,” he groaned as he fit more and more of his cock inside you, “so tight, so desperate to milk me for all my seed, I'm gonna give it all to you sweet girl”
He grunted and breathed heavy against your shoulder as he bottomed out, feeling the bulge of his own cock inside you as his abdomen pressed against yours. Your thighs shook at the sheer fullness, his cock pressing against every sensitive part of your walls and stretching you impossibly wide, every tiny movement making you whine as he collected himself, trying his best to hold back from immediately slamming into your virgin pussy.
After an age he slowly slid back out, only his tip remaining inside you before penetrating you again. He set a slow, deep pace, your thighs wrapping as best you could around him, pressing your heels to his ass and urging him to go faster. “More,” you whined, “more, please, breed me”
He let out a low groan and nipped your shoulder with his sharp teeth before grabbing your hips and slamming into you. You let out a shrill pleasured scream with every thrust, the entire island would no doubt hear you as he fucked you hard, your smaller body jostling back and forth with every heavy pounding of his fat cock. You screamed as an orgasm ripped through you, Katakuri grabbing the headboard for support as he groaned at the added tightness, never letting up on his brutal pace.
“Yes yes yes yes,” you cried, seeing stars and making deep scratches on his back and chest, back arching of the bed as he growled down at you, watching your tits bounce with every deep thrust, watching the way the membrane around your entrance pushed pulled with every movement, refusing to let his cock go, begging for him to release inside you. He held himself pack, his sheer willpower keeping him on the precipice, determined to make you cum one more time before he would reward himself.
“Gonna- gonna cum again-” you whined, barely able to speak through your panting, eyes glazed over, expression pained with a goofy, fucked out smile as your husband fucked the coherence out of you. Having only ever expressed orgasms by your own hand, you were in absolute nirvana, body tingling with the effects of three orgasms and quickly feeling the approach of a forth. “Want- want your cum- hnng- fil-ll me up, p-please”
“Gonna breed you good baby,” Katakuri groaned, headboard creaking under the strain as his thrusts became erratic and desperate, “fuck, gonna cum too, fuck”
The tightening of your pussy as you came put him over the edge, headboard giving out and snapping violently as he let out a roar and spilled out inside you, the sheer volume of his pent up release combined with his thick cock making cum immediately drip from your hole, Katakuri making final thrusts as your orgasm settled. He stayed inside you as he stilled, pulling back only a little as his cock twitched and made one last deposit, keeping himself as a plug so you had no choice but to accept his cum. You panted hard, laying against the soft mattress, willing your body to open up and accept his seed, willing it to take and make you round with his child.
“I love you,” he finally stuttered through heavy breaths, throwing broken pieces of headboard to the floor, sweeping away wood fragments with his hand and laying beside you, pulling you with him, cock still warm deep inside your cunt. “So beautiful… so sweet for me..”
“I love you too Kat,” you panted, arms wrapping around his neck and face nestling against his while rouge beads of cum slid down your thighs. “But maybe we should invest in a stronger bed,” you giggled.
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✧ ˚.The Ultimate Study Guide: How to Become a Top-Tier Student ✨📚
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Hi besties! 💖 It’s Mindy here, your resident study buddy and glow-up guru at Glowettee. I wanna talk about how to become a top-tier student this upcoming year without losing your sanity—or your vibe. Imagine sipping on a latte, surrounded by pastel notes and cute stationery, feeling like the main character of your academic journey. That’s the energy we’re channeling today. Ready to take your study game from blah to iconic? Hopefully these tips could help prepare for the second semester!
1. Active Recall and Spaced Repetition Hacks
Okay, so here’s the deal: simply reading your notes is not the move. You’ve got to make your brain work a little harder to really soak in all that info.
Active recall: Write down questions from your notes and try answering them without looking. This forces your brain to actually retrieve the information (and helps you remember it longer!).
Spaced repetition: Spread out your study sessions instead of cramming. Use apps like Anki or Quizlet to create digital flashcards that you review over time. Bonus: Anki is super aesthetic if you customize the fonts and colors. 🌸
2. How to Make Study Sessions Feel Luxurious
Studying doesn’t have to feel like a chore, babe. Here’s how to romanticize the grind:
Set the mood: Light a candle, play soft lofi beats, and wear your coziest silk robe. (Yes, the fancy one.)
Aesthetic setup: Use pastel highlighters, cute pens, and a clean desk space. Your desk should feel like a Pinterest board come to life.
Snacks & drinks: Treat yourself to something yummy like matcha lattes or chocolate-covered almonds. A chic study session is fueled by snacks, trust me. 🍵
3. Step-by-Step Pomodoro Method Breakdown for Focus
Pomodoro is basically magic for productivity. Here’s how to do it:
Set a timer for 25 minutes and work on one task. (Pro tip: Choose something specific, like summarizing one chapter.)
Take a 5-minute break after each session. Stretch, grab a sip of water, or scroll Pinterest for inspo.
Repeat four times, then take a longer 20-30 minute break. Use this time to dance around your room or journal—it’s all about balance.
🦢 ✧ ˚.Why it works: Breaking your tasks into bite-sized chunks makes studying less overwhelming and way more manageable. Plus, the breaks keep you refreshed and motivated.🦢 ✧ ˚.
4. Best Apps for Studying
Bestie, your phone doesn’t have to be a distraction—it can be your ultimate study tool. Here are my faves:
Notion: Perfect for organizing your study schedule and creating dreamy, color-coded notes. You can even add cute icons and headers to make it so aesthetic. (SPOILER!! I'll be making some soon for you guys!!)
Quizlet: Great for flashcards and testing yourself on key terms. Bonus: You can use other people’s study sets if you’re short on time.
Anki: Ideal for mastering those tough subjects (hello, bio and chem!). The spaced repetition feature is a lifesaver for long-term retention.
Forest: Keeps you off your phone by growing virtual trees while you study. The guilt of killing your tree will keep you focused, I promise. 🌳
5. How to Romanticize School and Make It Fun
Here’s the tea: school doesn’t have to be boring. Treat every class like a stepping stone to your dream life.
Dress the part: Show up like the best-dressed main character. Think Blair Waldorf vibes but comfy—plaid skirts, cozy cardigans, and knee-high socks are always a win.
Curate your supplies: Invest in cute stationery, a pastel planner, and maybe even a monogrammed tote bag. If it feels luxurious, you’ll want to use it.
Celebrate small wins: Finished a chapter? Reward yourself with a TikTok break or a face mask. You deserve it.
Shift your mindset: Instead of dreading school, think of it as part of your glow-up. Every essay, test, or project is one step closer to the 🦢 ✧ ˚.elite🦢 ✧ ˚. version of you.
Final Thoughts
You’ve got this, babe. Becoming a top-tier student is about working smarter, not harder—and looking cute while doing it. Make your study sessions a vibe, stay consistent with these hacks, and watch your grades (and confidence) skyrocket. Remember: You’re not just studying for school; you’re building the foundation for your dream life. 💕
Let me know how you’re leveling up your study game in the comments or tags! And don’t forget to tag @glowettee if you post your aesthetic study setups—I’d love to see them. ✨
Xoxo, Mindy/Glowettee 🌸
#dream girl#glowettee#it girl energy#pink#girl blogger#becoming that girl#that girl#study tips#girlblogger#self improvement#studyhacks#study motivation#studyblr#study blog#art study#student#university#studyspo#studying#student life#glowup#coquette#itgirl#productivityhacks
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Imagine imagine imagine Bi-Han and Reader as enemies for as long as they can remember, but recently Reader feels attracted to Bi-Han and one night decides to touch herself at the image of him. Add some degrading kink here and some size kink there sprinkle sprinkle ykyk :3
calling my name
a/n: 4200 words...y'all better eat this up, please, i'm begging you
pairing: bi han x afab!reader
warnings: nsfw (MDNI) light bondage, degradation kink, size kink, overstimulation, pussy eating
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you absolutely hate Bi Han, he always had to one up you, always had to be better, always had to make sure to rub it in your face whenever he beat you in a spar
it was absolutely infuriating, and you seeth at him from across the room as he lectures the trainees and mentors for something idiotic that one person had messed up
he was so serious about every single little thing, and you wanted to slap him, to beat him into the dirt because of course he would take such a stupid mistake so seriously
someone had left out a weapon on the training grounds rather than putting it back on the rack, and for some reason, this was the hill Bi Han was going to die on
you barely hold in your scoff and your eye-roll as Bi Han walks by you, and you sit until your ass is numb and he’s finally done lecturing you all
finally, you walk off back to your room, the day already dark and moon high from how long the grandmaster had lectured you all
why did the mentors have to be there? it’s not like any of you would make a mistake so trivial, and now your night was wasted
you were going to sit down with a good book and a hot cup of red tea and sip on it until the candle burned down, but now you couldn’t even do that
closing the door, you strip off your clothes and angrily throw them into your laundry basket and put on your loose pajamas
maybe you would just go to sleep then
flicking off the lights to your room and closing the blinds, you bury yourself underneath the sheets and stare at the wall of your room
except sleep won’t come to you, no matter what position you flip yourself into or how long you close your eyes, and now you’re angry for a different reason
finally, you lay on your back, the blanket rumpled around you, and all you can do is stare at the ceiling as you lay wide awake
the meeting from earlier flashes through your mind and how Bi Han had strut around the room, dressed in only a casual uniform for training
it was sleeveless and tight, one size too small for him, and you could see every time his arm flexed and how his chest nearly spilled out from the front
you hated Bi Han so much that it turned into lust, and it frustrated you to no end how much you craved him despite how much you also wanted to beat him into the dirt
huffing out into the air, you dip one hand below your shorts and press them against your clit, biting your lip at the feeling
you start with slow circles, sighing at the feeling, and you can feel your pussy clench around nothing and getting wet as you continue
your fingers are nimble, nowhere near soft, but not quite calloused just because you engage in more hand to hand combat rather than with weapons, and you wonder how Bi Han’s fingers would feel against your clit
you’ve fought with him many times, felt his calloused and scarred fingers dig into your skin and cause bruises to bloom across you
they would be rough, focused, determined, rubbing quick and hard circles into your clit, and you let out a soft moan as you quicken your pace
parting your legs slightly and taking a pause to throw off your pants, you rub your clit with practiced fingers, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling
pleasure buzzes through you, hums in every fiber of your being as you get yourself closer and closer to the edge
you imagine Bi Han is here with you, fingers rough against you and pushing you further and further to the edge
his voice would be saying something, always something because the grandmaster always had something to say or do to prove his point
you can imagine the deep rumble of his voice, the growl he would let out, his neat and pristine hair being mussed by your hands
you’ve never wanted to pull out his bun so much and mess up his hair and tug tangles into the strands, and you know he would be irritated with the action
he would pin you down to the ground, thick fingers moving to fuck your drooling pussy while his thumb grinds against your clit
it would be delicious and angry and hot, and you let out a moan of his name as you cum on your fingers, letting your orgasm wash over you and light every sense in your body
you slow down your fingers on your clit and let out a little breath, feeling more tired than earlier, and you remove your fingers and adjust your position to turn onto your side
where you see an open door and someone standing there in casual training uniform
a chill runs down your spine and your heart thumps in your chest as your eyes trail up, up toned legs, a plush chest with crossed arms, and a scowling Bi Han
oh fuck
immediately, you throw your blanket over your bare legs, mouth open in surprise, and you sit up, fingers clutching the blanket so hard that you might as well tear a new hole through it
he doesn’t do anything, and you don’t say anything, stuck in a staring contest that you desperately didn’t want to be in
and then he steps in closer to you, making you flinch, and he closes the door behind him, his silhouette nothing but a dark shadow in the black of your room
it’s hard to tell if he’s moving, smiling, going to kill you, and you shift on the bed to turn on your lamp
but then there’s a hand on your legs through the blankets, yanking you further down the bed and making you gasp in surprise
you go to yell, scream, yelp, but a hand clamps itself over your mouth and his other pins your wrists above you, ice cold and freezing
he chuckles lowly, the only other sound in the room besides your pounding heart, and he says that he didn’t know that his most annoying soldier was so into him
you glare at him, almost hoping that it makes him drop dead, but unfortunately, it doesn’t, his hands still pressed against you
his breath gets close enough to fan out across your face, and it makes you flinch, not knowing that he was so close to you in the darkness of your room
your eyes had yet to adjust to the black night, and you kick your legs in an attempt to hit his stomach and fling him off of you
but he just slots his hips right in between your plush thighs, and you’ve run out of possible defenses to kick him off of you
unluckily for you, the rough cloth of his pants rubs on your sensitive clit when he had pushed his way between your legs, and you let out a small whimper at the feeling
you can feel his smirk before he opens his mouth, and you don’t move in fear of grinding against him and further embarrassing yourself
but from the way you can feel his hardness pressing right against your cunt, you’re guessing he liked you just as much you liked him
or at least, the way you liked his body because you hated his personality
Bi Han grinds his hips into yours, and your eyes finally adjust enough to see his stupid stupid smirk on his face, looking at you like you’re prey
his hand is still clasped over your mouth, but he lets go of your wrists, encasing them in ice so you couldn’t throw them at him
the ice almost burns, and it mixes with the pleasure you feel as he grinds against you, making your head spin and your nerves twist in every which direction
it doesn’t know whether to deal with the pain or deal with the pleasure, and it fills your head with a haze as you let out a muffled curse behind Bi Han’s rough hand
he lets go of your mouth, and you curse him out with as many expletives you can think of
Bi Han rolls his eyes, muttering something in Chinese under his breath, and you switch to the language and start cursing him out like that
he looks around your room, finding your discarded panties on the sheets above you, and he shoves them into your open mouth, effectively silencing you for the most part
you can’t even spit it out because it’s too large, and so you just glare at him, arms stuck to your fucking bedsheets and legs spread around his hips and staring at his insufferable face
he hates you, you know he does because he fights you like he does no other, and it’s clear in his words as he calls you a whore, a needy little slut
you continue to glare at him as he says that if you wanted him that badly, you should’ve just asked, he can’t but help a whore in need
his hands travel up shirt, cupping your breasts and squeezing them harshly, making you let out a choked whimper at the roughness
he just squeezes and squeezes your chest, doing nothing more than that for a second, before his thumbs find your hardened nipples and roll against them
the feeling makes you whine, and he grins at you, pinching your nipples repeatedly and listening to the muffled whines and whimper that flow out of you
you can’t stop the noises that come out of you, and neither can you control how your pussy grows more and more wet by the second
he murmurs, saying that you look so pretty when you’re quiet, so helpless beneath him, and that maybe he should keep you like this, all pliant for him
you try to growl underneath your gag, but then he lowers his head to your neck and sinks his teeth into your skin
a small yelp leaves your throat, and he runs his tongue over the mark, kissing a little lower before he sucks a hickey into you as well
it’s high up, too high to hide with your uniform, and you squirm in his grip to complain
but all it accomplishes is making you rub against him, and you just let out a pathetic mewl at the feeling and go still
he chuckles against your skin, kissing lower and repeating the process over and over again until he finally reaches your chest
he nips and bites at the skin before latching his mouth over your nipple, running his tongue over the nub, while his hand pinched your other nipple
his tongue and teeth are relentless against the sensitive nub, and you can’t help but squirm against him, growing needier and needier by the second
you garble out commands behind your gag, telling him to hurry up, to stop being such a coward and fuck you senseless already, but if he understands, he ignores you
he’s slow with his actions, just grinding himself into your sensitive clit, and the grandmaster continues to tease your chest, teeth lightly nipping at your nipple
it makes you whine and arch your back and your chest right into his awaiting mouth, and he smirks against your skin and detaches from your nipple with a slight pop
but he quickly moves to your other nipple, giving it the same overbearing treatment, tongue rubbing over the nub and teeth lightly biting into it
you really couldn’t take any more teasing, and you try to convey that as much with the way your hips buck into him, but he just growls and presses his body weight further into you
with his size compared to yours, you’re helpless to get him off of you and can only take the pleasure that he gives you
he seems to spend forever on your other nipple, and your head is starting to grow foggy with how much you need him as much as you hate to admit it
you wanted to flip him, take what you want and leave him needing, but for now, all you can do is let the pleasure cloud your mind and control your body
finally, after what feels like an eon, he detaches his mouth from your chest, giving it a playful bite before he looks at your heaving chest
he hums at the sight, pinching your nipples one more time for good measure, and you suppress your whimper at the feeling
Bi Han just laughs and calls you pathetic, but he looks just as debauched, lips shiny with his spit and eyes frenzied, his hair a mess with strands falling out of his bun
you want to spit an insult at him, tell him that he’s no better, but he hasn’t removed the gag just yet, and so you just glare and hope they burn holes through him
he just lightly pats your chest, and then shuffles downward, using his hand to spread your legs open and then up to press them into your stomach
you try to struggle and move your legs again, but his arms are thick and strong and keep them pinned tightly to your body
he just mutters pathetic under his breath before lapping his tongue over your clit, making your hips buck and a small whine to escape from you
Bi Han wastes no time in tasting all of you, his tongue flicking your clit back and forth roughly before sucking on it and drawing a wail out of you
his tongue is ruthless, cold against your clit, and all you can do is buck and grind your hips further and further into his tongue
you’re getting closer and closer to the edge, his tongue still pressing firm flat strokes against your oversensitive clit, and you can’t think at all
you hurtle over the edge, pleasure shattering like shards of glass throughout your body, and you tremble as he keeps his lips firmly wrapped around your clit
it feels like your high lasts forever, and you know that you’re whining out his name from behind the gag but you can’t even stop yourself
but his tongue is still pressing against you, tongue still stubbornly lapping at your clit, and his fingers slide through your folds
they’re cold, and the temperature makes you gasp and flinch at the coldness, but Bi Han just hums into your clit and all thought flies away again
he slips his fingers into you, thicker and rougher than your own, and your pussy squeezes around them, trying to bring them further, desperate for pleasure
pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly, you can feel your mind and your body separating, how the pleasure seems to hold onto your body and bring you far away from yourself
it’s like floating in the space between Earth and Outworld, and you can’t control the whimpers that leave your throat as Bi Han curls them into your sweet spot
it makes your pussy squeeze around his fingers and grow wetter as he rubs against the spot, and you let out small mewls as he continues to suck on your sensitive clit
it’s so overwhelming, and you want to kick him off but also bring him closer and make you cum, you want it, you need it
Bi Han hums into your clit, the vibrations shooting straight through you and making you see white as you cum on his fingers
he keeps pumping in and out of you, letting you ride your high out on his fingers, and you’re panting heavily, head dizzy from the lack of oxygen from the gag
his tongue gives your pussy one final lick, tongue broad and firm, before he detaches himself from you with a wet pop and stands up, letting your legs finally fall down
you can’t even kick him away because of how they feel more jello than bone right now
you’re face to face with just how large Bi Han is, sure you’ve sparred against him, had him pressed against you so many times before
but that was in a different context…now he’s standing before you, undressing himself, his biceps flexing in the little moonlight that shines through the cracks of the blinds
his chest is so much broader and defined than yours, years and years of training you supposed, and he catches you staring as he shucks off his pants
no surprise, of course the cocky motherfucker was large, and he brings his hand to wrap around it and pump it a few times, his thumb collecting the pre-cum and spreading it along the shaft
he lets out a low groan at the feeling, and you nudge your thighs against his, wanting him to hurry up and fuck you
raising an eyebrow at you, Bi Han leans forward and takes out your gag, and immediately you call him an asshole
he retorts, saying that you didn’t seem to have the same attitude when he was making you cum on his fingers earlier
you frown at him, trying to keep your face still even as he slaps your pussy with his cock, letting the head bump against the clit
it sends little shocks of pleasure running through your body, but the only giveaway is how your hips slightly twitch at the feeling
he doesn’t do anything for a moment, just sliding his cock between your folds and getting himself nice and wet for you, and then he hikes your legs up into his large hands
staring straight at you, he tells you to beg, beg for his cock like the desperate whore he knows you are, and you open your mouth in indignation and glare at him
and then you spit an insult out at him, telling him he’s some pompous stupid asshole whose too cocky for no reason, a terrible grandmaster, a horrible lay
if he’s affected, he doesn’t show it and just looks at you with a bored expression until you’re out of breath and panting
his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, going deep enough that you know that there will be bruises tomorrow
he asks if you’re done, his voice annoyed and bordering a growl as he stares down at you
you tug at your arms, pursing your lips at the fact that they were still stuck to your bedsheets, and your thighs are held firmly in place by his hands
he grinds into you, pulling his hips back and teasing you with his cock, slightly pushing in but then pulling back out
you can’t help it as a small whimper leaves your throat, and you glare at him and tell him he isn’t playing fair
Bi Han doesn’t react, just repeats his order from before, to beg for him to fuck you, and you frown and slightly squirm to try and move your hips down onto him
he just pulls his hips backward away from you, preventing you from spearing yourself any further on his cock
the both of you are at a standstill for a moment, but you can feel your resolve breaking every time the tip pushes in just slightly and then pulls back out
it’s driving you insane, but you can see the cracks in his patience as he pushes in deeper and deeper and how he starts to let out a curt grunt every time he teases you
but of course Bi Han wouldn’t play fair because he leans down, his face so close to yours, and he hooks your legs over his shoulders
one of his hands snakes down to rub at your clit, and you want to actually kill him as he smirks at you and tells you to beg
he’s so absolutely infuriating, so irritating, and he was breaking down your resolve like he was an ocean wave and you were a crumbling sand castle
his thumb is slow and torturous, rubbing light circles into your clit but never going fast enough to make you cum, just enough to have pleasure creep in the edges of your frayed nerves
you try to buck and grind your hips into him to get him to apply more pressure, but it’s fruitless, and you’re left with no more options
closing your eyes, you murmur out a please
he tells you to do it again, to do it better, he knows you can do better
opening your eyes and glaring up at him, you bare your teeth and snarl at him, and he just looks down at you, awaiting your response
you grit your teeth and beg for him in a low and irritated voice, begging for him to fuck you on his fat cock, to make you cum until you only know his name, to fuck you until you worship him…please
Bi Han grins and with one single thrust, he pushes his cock into you and bottoms out, pelvis snug against yours
it steals your breath, and a strangled sound leaves your throat as he starts to fuck into you at a brutal pace, the sound of your wet pussy filling the air
he’s big, stretching you out to lengths you’ve never been, and he’s hitting every spot inside of you perfectly and turning your mind into mush as his thumb presses firmly into your clit
you refuse to beg anymore though and bite your lip to stifle your moans and whimpers, and you close your eyes and turn your head to the side to hide in your shoulder
Bi Han doesn’t seem to mind, simply leaning down further and making your hamstrings burn as he sucks and kisses hickeys into your neck
he nips at your sensitive skin, leaving his marks on you as his hips thrust in and out of you, and you let out a choked moan as you cream on his cock
his hips never stop, continuing their ruthless pace through your orgasm, but he lets out a low groan at the feeling of your pussy clenching and squeezing his cock
it’s the sound of your half-hidden whimpers and whines, his grunts and low moans, and the sound of his hips slapping into yours filling the room
every shock of pleasure is sharp and loud, cracking through your body as the overstimulation starts to sit in, but Bi Han doesn’t seem to care as he pants into your skin
he spares a look down and groans at the sight, and you look down as well, barely making out in the low light how every time he thrusts in, a slight bulge appears on your stomach
somehow, his pace quickens, and he growls into your ear that he’s going to cum in you, needs to cum in you and mark you all the way
you just whine in response, lips parting, and he takes the opportunity to attach his lips to yours and kiss you deeply, tongue finding its way into your mouth
your taste still lingers on his tongue, and you moan at the realization, pleasure coursing through you
he swallows the sound of your drawn-out keen as your pussy clamps down on his dick, nearly strangling it as you cum again, and he moans into your mouth as he does the same
you can feel his cum inside of you, warming you from the inside, and your thighs tremble as the both of your ride out your highs, his hips becoming sloppy and slow as he finishes
he just lays on top of you, letting his cock soften inside of you, and the both of you just lay there panting, chests heaving as you close your eyes and savor the last remnants of pleasure
and then you open your eyes and mutter for him to get off of you, and you tug at your arms, finally finding the ice fragile enough to break with your strength
he just grunts and obliges, his cock slipping out of you, and as much as you hate to admit it, you miss the feeling already
his cum seeps out of your pussy, spilling onto your clean bedsheets, and you glare at him, telling him that this was his fault
he rolls his eyes at you, saying that it was not, you were the one who had moaned his name in the first place
you retort saying that he had come over to your room first, and that you know for a fact that he lives in the opposite direction because that’s where all the higher-ups lived
he scowls at you but doesn’t say anything as he dresses in his slacks and picks up his robes from the floor
you stand up, fixing your shirt that had been pushed above your chest and you hold onto the door frame for balance on your shaky legs
he leaves, standing in the middle of the hallway and then turns back to you, and you just stand in the doorway and stare back at him
finally, he mutters out that he wants to see you again, next week, same time
you snort and say now who’s the one begging, and he rolls his eyes and starts walking away, letting you admire the way his back flexes as he walks
he’ll be back next week, you already know it
#mortal kombat#mk#mortal kombat 1#mk1#mk1 2023#mortal kombat x reader#mk x reader#mk x you#mk x y/n#mortal kombat smut#mk smut#bi han#bi han mk1#mk1 bi han#bi han sub zero#sub zero#sub zero mk1#mk1 sub zero#bi han smut#sub zero smut#bi han x reader#bi han x you#bi han x y/n#sub zero x reader#sub zero x you#sub zero x y/n#tangerine writes#tangerine answers
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Under their control - sanhwa
KINKTOBER DAY 22, REQ. BY anon
~"Would love a mommy!hwa x female reader x daddy!San fic! Hwa's not female, he just has a maternal vibe/ aura. The reader lives with them and is their (human)pet. They like to dress the reader in cute lingerie and collar and leash. A fic where the reader is getting punished for something (you can decide what) and they keep denying her orgasm. Some size kink, double penetration, fake sympathy, pet names. Thank you!"
pairing: mommy soft dom!seonghwa x fem reader x daddy rough dom!san
genre: 18+, filth, mommy/daddy bdsm trope
summary: you get on San's nerves again... which has always proved to not be a good idea.
wc: 7.1k
warnings: harsh/rough dom!san, soft dom!seonghwa, daddy!san, mommy!seonghwa, denied orgasms, pussy eating, marking, making out, double penetration, collar and leash, slight size kink, fake sympathy, lots of cum in the end, a crumb of aftecare in the end, teasing, pet names (kitten, darling, sweetheart..), ass spanking, unprotected, completely consensual, blowjob, handjob, for sure forgot something.. will edit 'warnings' later.
Author's Note: I looveeed writing this one... you can tell by the number of words LMAO. I hope you like it anon.. I'm sorry it took me fucking ages (I'm sorry to everyone ajsnda). I hope y'all like it <3 i love youuu
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the members.
The sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains of the shared bedroom, casting soft golden streaks across the plush duvet. The atmosphere was a mixture of warmth and tranquility, the faint scent of lavender lingering from the candle Seonghwa had lit the previous night. You stirred, shifting against the soft bedding, your cheek brushing the smooth pillowcase.
“Good morning, baby,” came Seonghwa’s voice, gentle and melodic, as he entered the room. His arms cradled a tray holding a cup of tea and a small plate with neatly arranged fruit slices. “It’s time to wake up.”
You blinked, squinting against the morning light, and smiled sleepily at the sight of him. He was always the first to greet you in the mornings, his nurturing presence like a soothing balm. He set the tray down on the nightstand, leaning in to press a feather-light kiss to your forehead.
“How did my little one sleep?” he asked, brushing stray strands of hair from your face.
“Good,” you murmured, your voice still groggy. You nuzzled into his touch, relishing the tenderness he always exuded.
“You have a busy day ahead,” he reminded, his lips curving into a small smile. “San wants you ready and downstairs in half an hour. You know how he feels about being late.”
San. Just the mention of him sent a small shiver down your spine—not entirely out of fear, but because of the way his presence filled every room he walked into. Where Seonghwa was soft and soothing, San was sharp, commanding. You felt the dichotomy of their dynamics every day, a constant interplay of comfort and authority.
“I’ll get up,” you promised, sitting up slowly and letting the blankets pool around your waist.
Seonghwa nodded, pleased with your obedience. “Good girl,” he said softly.
—
By the time you reached the kitchen, the smell of coffee had filled the space. San was already there, standing by the counter in a crisp black shirt that fit him a little too perfectly. He glanced up when you entered, his dark eyes immediately locking onto you.
“You’re late,” he said, his tone even but with that familiar edge of authority.
Your heart sank. You’d only taken a few extra minutes, but with San, those small delays were never overlooked.
“I—I didn’t mean to,” you stammered, casting a quick glance at Seonghwa, who had taken a seat by the table and was watching the interaction unfold with a faint smile.
San’s brow arched, and he stepped closer, his presence looming in a way that made your pulse quicken. “Didn’t mean to?” he repeated, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “Sweetheart, how many times have we talked about this?”
You fidgeted, your fingers twisting together. “A lot,” you admitted quietly.
“And yet here you are.” He reached out, lifting your chin with two fingers so that you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “What am I supposed to do with you, kitten? Hmm?”
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you offered weakly.
San’s lips curved into a smirk that was anything but kind. “Oh, darling. You’ll be sorry, alright?”
Seonghwa let out a soft chuckle from his seat, his voice lilting with amusement. “Be gentle, San. You know how sensitive she is.”
San shot him a look, but it was devoid of any real irritation. “Oh, I’ll be gentle,” he said, his attention returning to you. “At least at first.”
—
The mistake had been minor in the grand scheme of things, but San never let the small things slide. It was his way of keeping you in line, as he so often reminded you.
“Upstairs. Now,” he ordered, his voice firm.
You hesitated for a split second, but the sharpness in his eyes spurred you into motion. You turned and hurried up the stairs, your heart pounding in anticipation.
By the time you reached the bedroom, you could already hear his measured footsteps behind you. Seonghwa had stayed behind in the kitchen, but you knew he would come up eventually. He always liked to play the role of the sympathetic observer or maybe join in, offering soft words of comfort after San was done.
San closed the door behind him with a deliberate click, the sound sending a jolt of nervous energy through you.
“On the bed,” he instructed, his voice low.
You obeyed, climbing onto the bed and sitting back on your heels. Your collar—a delicate, silver chain adorned with a small charm—felt heavier around your neck under his intense gaze. You'd always wear it whenever you were at home for a couple of days, free of work.
“Do you know why you’re being punished?” he asked, crossing his arms as he stood at the foot of the bed.
“Yes,” you replied softly.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
His smirk widened, pleased by your submission. “That’s right, baby girl.”
He moved closer, his hand reaching out to trail a finger along the edge of your collar. “This little thing,” he murmured, his tone deceptively soft, “means you follow the rules. Doesn’t it?”
You nodded, your breath hitching as his finger traced down to the hollow of your throat.
“And what happens when you break the rules?” he pulls you by yourbneck
“I get punished,” you whispered.
“That’s my good girl,” he said, his voice dripping with false affection. “At least you remember that much.”
San’s hand moved down to your waist, his grip firm but not harsh. He turned you slightly, positioning you so that you were kneeling on the bed with your back to him. Before you could anticipate his next move, the sharp sound of his palm meeting your ass filled the room, making you gasp.
“Late again,” he said, his tone a mixture of mock exasperation and amusement. “You never learn, do you?”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
“Sorry?” San repeated, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on the spot he’d just slapped. “Do you think that makes up for wasting my time, kitten?”
Your head hung low, shame and guilt swirling in your chest. “No, Daddy.”
“Hmm, no, it doesn’t,” he agreed, the false sympathy in his voice sending shivers down your spine. His other hand gripped your chin, tilting your face back toward him. “But I’ll humor you. Tell me why you think you deserve my forgiveness.”
The words caught in your throat, your eyes darting toward the door as if silently begging for intervention. As if on cue, the door opened, and Seonghwa stepped in, his presence a balm to the tension that had built in the room.
“San,” he said softly, his melodic voice breaking through the thick atmosphere. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh on her?”
San didn’t loosen his grip on you, but his lips twitched in a faint smirk. “A little harsh? Maybe. But I like to think it gets the point across.”
Seonghwa crossed the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was trying not to spook you. He came up behind you, his warm hands resting gently on your shoulders. “Our little one just needs guidance,” he murmured, leaning down so that his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Not to be broken.”
The contrast between them was striking. Where San’s touch was firm and commanding, Seonghwa’s was a soothing, grounding you even as your nerves buzzed. His arms slid around your waist, pulling you back into his chest from San's grip and you felt a small measure of safety return.
San clicked his tongue, his amusement clear. “You spoil her too much, Hwa. That’s why she thinks she can get away with being late.”
Seonghwa chuckled, his voice vibrating against your back. “Or maybe you’re too quick to punish, San. Have you thought of that?”
San’s smirk widened, and he stepped closer, his hands slipping to your thighs, squeezing just enough to draw your attention back to him. “I think you’re too soft,” he teased, his gaze meeting Seonghwa’s over your shoulder. “But if you think you can handle her better, why don’t you join me?”
Your eyes widened, your breath hitching as Seonghwa’s grip around you tightened, his chest pressing more firmly against your back.
“Join you?” Seonghwa repeated, his tone deceptively light. “You mean to help her, not overwhelm her, right?”
San shrugged, his hands roaming up your sides with an air of nonchalance. “Depends on how much help she needs.”
Seonghwa’s lips brushed your temple as he whispered, “Do you trust me, little one?”
“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible.
“Good,” he said, his hands now guiding yours to rest on your thighs, keeping you still. “Let’s remind you how much you’re cared for.”
San leaned in, his gaze softening just enough to show a flicker of affection beneath his teasing. His hand cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re lucky we’re patient,” he said, though his smirk made it clear he wasn’t entirely serious.
San’s fingers found the hem of your oversized shirt, his grip impatient as he tugged it over your head. The motion was swift, almost rough, leaving you exposed to the cool air of the room. You gasped softly, instinctively moving to cover yourself, but San’s firm hand stopped you.
“Ah, ah,” he chided, his dark eyes glittering with authority. “Don’t you dare hide from me.”
You swallowed hard, your hands falling back to your sides as you trembled under his gaze. His fingers brushed against your skin, cold against the heat that seemed to radiate from you. With deliberate slowness, he reached behind you to unhook your bra, the straps slipping down your shoulders like a whisper.
Seonghwa, still behind you, caught the discarded garment and leaned down to pick up a delicate, semi-transparent lingerie set that had been neatly laid out on the dresser. His touch was in stark contrast to San’s—gentle, almost reverent, as he guided the soft fabric up your arms.
“This suits her,” Seonghwa said, his voice low and melodic, as he adjusted the straps on your shoulders with care. The material clung to your body in a way that felt both innocent and intimate, the faint pink hue of the lingerie complementing the flush spreading across your skin.
San stepped back slightly, his sharp gaze roaming over you, taking in every detail. A low chuckle escaped him as his eyes traveled downward. “Well, well,” he drawled, his voice laced with amusement, “looks like someone’s enjoying herself a little too much.”
Your face burned as you followed his gaze, horrified to see the evidence of your arousal dampening the linen beneath you.
“Tell me, kitten,” San teased, kneeling down so his face was level with yours, his smirk growing wider, “is this because of me?” He tilted his head, his voice a mocking coo. “Are you turned on by how rough I am with you?”
You bit your lip, your body betraying you as another wave of heat pooled in your belly. “Y-Yes,” you admitted, your voice small and shaky, tinged with a whiny neediness you couldn’t control.
“Of course you are,” San said, his laughter quiet but sharp, as though the answer had only confirmed what he already knew. He leaned in, brushing his lips against your ear as he murmured, “You like being my good little toy, don’t you?”
Before you could respond, Seonghwa’s warm lips pressed against the back of your neck, trailing down to your shoulders. His movements were slow, deliberate, like he was trying to soothe the trembling mess San had made of you.
“You’re beautiful,” Seonghwa whispered against your skin, his hands coming to rest gently on your waist. “You don’t have to be afraid, little one. I’ve got you.”
San stood, his presence still looming even as he moved away. The rustling of fabric drew your attention, and you peeked through lowered lashes to see him unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were unhurried, calculated, the sharp lines of his body coming into view with every undone button.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” San said, his tone laced with warning as he tossed the shirt aside. “I’m not done with you yet.”
But even as he spoke, Seonghwa’s soothing touch and soft murmurs anchored you, his lips never ceasing their gentle exploration of your back. The contrast between them���San’s rough edges and Seonghwa’s tender warmth—left you suspended in a whirlwind of sensations, utterly at their mercy.
San's intense gaze darkened as he stepped forward. In one fluid motion, he lifted you effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping around you as though you weighed nothing. A surprised gasp escaped your lips, but San gave you no time to process. He pressed you against the cool wall, the hard surface grounding you against the heat of his body.
Leaning in, he captured your mouth in a sloppy, possessive kiss, his lips demanding as they moved against yours. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and his tongue claimed you with a roughness that made your head spin. You whimpered softly into the kiss, your hands clutching at his shoulders as if anchoring yourself to him. His muscular body made you feel to tiny and insignificant in front of him… which you absolutely loved.
Behind you, Seonghwa had risen from the bed. His dark eyes lingered on you, and there was no mistaking the tension in his posture—or the strain evident against the fabric of his pants.
San broke the kiss, his breath hot against your lips as he spoke. “You’re shaking, kitten,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Is this what you wanted? To feel me like this?”
Before you could answer, he shifted his hold on you, lowering you slowly against him. The hard line of his arousal pressed into you, even through the layers of fabric separating you, drawing a soft, involuntary whine from your throat.
“Look at you,” he continued, his tone mocking but laced with something deeper. “You can’t even control yourself, can you?”
“I…” You tried to form words, but the sensation of him, combined with the lingering warmth of Seonghwa’s gaze, made coherent thought impossible.
As if sensing your overwhelmed state, Seonghwa stepped closer, his hands resting lightly on your arms before trailing down to your sides. His lips found the sensitive curve of your shoulder, pressing soft kisses there that sent shivers through your body.
San’s smirk widened as his hand began to wander, sliding down between your legs with deliberate slowness. The anticipation built with every second, your breath hitching as he teased you with light, fleeting touches.
“You’re so sensitive,” he observed, his tone equal parts amusement and pride. “Does this drive you crazy, kitten?”
You nodded weakly, your knees threatening to buckle under the combined assault of San’s rough, confident movements and Seonghwa’s tender, reassuring touch.
San’s fingers pressed inside your cunt more firmly now, the motion drawing soft, breathy sounds from you. “Of course, it does,” he said, his voice a low growl. “You love when I take control, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as the sensations began to overwhelm you.
San's smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips latching onto the soft skin of your collarbone. He kissed with purpose, his mouth warm and insistent, leaving behind marks that you knew would bloom into faint bruises later. Each kiss was a deliberate claim, his teeth grazing your skin, tongue soothing over where he’d nipped.
You gasped, tilting your head instinctively to give him more access, but San wasn’t gentle—he didn’t need to be. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you in place as his lips trailed upwards to the curve of your neck. Each mark he left ignited sparks that coursed through your body, a reminder of his overwhelming presence.
“Don’t squirm,” San muttered against your skin, his voice low and commanding. His teeth scraped lightly over the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you shudder.
In your haze, you barely registered the soft rustle of fabric as San’s hand moved lower. With calculated ease, he discarded the last barrier between his body and yours, the subtle shift in his stance making his actions unmistakable.
Seonghwa’s lips pressed softly to the top of your head, his voice like silk as he whispered, “Breathe, let him take care of you.”
But San’s idea of care was far from gentle. He straightened, his chest brushing against yours as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes burned with intensity, the smirk on his lips equal parts teasing and predatory.
“You’re mine,” he murmured, his tone rough but quiet, meant only for you. His hands tightened their grip on your hips, holding you securely against him.
San's hand traveled between your legs and as his fingers found their way to your folds, he pumped them in a couple of times, your head lolling back at the feeling. When he decided that you were prepped enough - which you weren't, but he was damn impatient - he lowered you on his cock, fully thrusting it in.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and dripping with mockery. “Barely holding yourself together, aren’t you, kitten?”
You whimpered softly, your lips parted as you tried to form words, but the overwhelming sensations left you mute.
“Come on,” San coaxed, his tone sharp yet teasing. “Use your words. What’s the matter? Too much for you already?”
“D-Daddy…” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as you gazed up at him, your hands weakly clutching at his shoulders.
San let out a low chuckle, leaning back just enough to look you over, his smirk widening as he saw the dazed, almost helpless expression on your face. “Daddy, huh?” he repeated mockingly. “You think that’s going to make me go easy on you?”
Your breath hitched, and you shook your head weakly, earning another sharp laugh from him.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, his tone dripping with authority. He tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You like this, don’t you? Being so completely at my mercy?”
You nodded hesitantly, and his smirk grew even more wicked.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice taking on a harder edge. “Tell me how much you love it when Daddy takes control.”
“I-I love it,” you stammered, your voice breaking under the weight of his dominance.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, his tone mockingly sweet as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re such a mess for me, aren’t you? Completely ruined, and we’re not even done yet.”
You whimpered again, your body trembling under his touch.
“Pathetic,” he said with a smirk, though there was a hint of pride in his voice. “Completely pathetic, and yet you’re still begging for more. Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but he heard it nonetheless.
San leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Good. Because I’m nowhere near finished with you, kitten.”
Seonghwa’s quiet observation eventually broke, his low, velvety voice cutting through the room. “What exactly do you have planned for her, San?” he asked, his tone calm and curious, though there was an underlying edge of amusement.
San didn’t stop, his movements as deliberate and sharp as his personality. His grip tightened on your hips as he responded, his voice coming out in low, ragged breaths between his thrusts. “Oh, I have plans,” he said, his smirk audible even without seeing his face.
Seonghwa raised a brow, stepping closer now, his own hand still lazily tracing over himself, watching you keenly. “Care to elaborate?”
San let out a soft chuckle, his breath ghosting against your ear as he answered, “I plan to ruin her.” His words were teasing, almost cruel in their intent. “She’s going to beg for me, for everything. More than she’s ever begged before.”
Your body trembled at his words, the promise in them sending a fresh wave of tension through you. San leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued, his voice dropping lower. “And just when she thinks I’ll give her what she wants…” He paused, his grip on you tightening briefly for emphasis. “…I won’t.”
Seonghwa’s smirk grew, his gaze flicking between you and San with quiet interest. “Cruel, as always,”
San chuckled again, this time with more satisfaction, his rhythm unrelenting as he added, “She likes it. Don’t you, kitten?”
Your response was a breathless whimper, your head lolling against San’s shoulder as your body surrendered to the overwhelming mix of sensations.
“Let’s see how patient are you, my love… are you going to be more patient than I was?” San cooed, holding you close to him as he pulled out and dropped you in the bed powerfully, towering over you. “Let’s see if it was worth being late, darling.” he leaned in for a kiss, then raised your hips above his, letting them rest.
San’s gaze bore into yours, the stormy intensity in his eyes enough to make your breath hitch. He didn’t move right away, letting the tension stretch thin in the air between you, his hand firm on your hip as he held you in place. His lips, so close to yours, hovered without touching, teasing you with the ghost of a promise.
“You’ve been testing me all week, haven’t you?” San murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers racing down your spine.
He trailed his hand down, the roughness of his palm against your skin a stark contrast to the tenderness of his words. But just as you leaned into him, aching for more, San pulled back slightly, his smirk sharp and deliberate.
Seonghwa’s soft chuckle reached your ears, his tone laced with amused approval. “You’re relentless, San,” he remarked, though his attention never strayed far from you. There was an edge of curiosity to his voice, as if he was enjoying watching the dynamic unfold.
San glanced at Seonghwa briefly, his lips quirking in a sly grin before his focus returned to you. “Relentless,” he echoed, his tone filled with dark satisfaction. “But that’s what she likes, isn’t it?” His fingers tightened against your skin just enough to make your pulse quicken.
You barely managed a breathy response, your body trembling with anticipation. San tilted his head, his lips finally brushing yours in a kiss that was as fleeting as it was intoxicating.
“Patience, kitten,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and commanding. “You’ll get what you want... but only when I decide you’ve earned it.”
San’s smirk deepened as he glanced at Seonghwa, his sharp gaze glinting with mischief. “Why don’t you join us?” he murmured, his voice dripping with invitation and challenge.
Seonghwa hesitated for only a moment, his piercing eyes locking with San’s before sliding down to meet yours. There was something almost reverent in his expression as he moved closer, his hand brushing over your arm to guide you gently yet firmly.
“Lean back,” Seonghwa instructed softly, his voice a rich contrast to San’s rough edges. His hands guided you until you were resting against him, his firm chest a solid support behind you. His thighs framed yours, his presence grounding you even as your heart raced.
San hummed approvingly, his smirk never faltering as he knelt between your legs, his gaze intense as it roamed over you. “Perfect,” he muttered, his hands tracing up your thighs with deliberate slowness, his touch a stark contrast to Seonghwa’s steady, grounding hold.
Seonghwa’s fingers brushed over your shoulders, his breath warm against your temple as he murmured, “Relax, love.” The soothing timbre of his voice made it impossible not to sink into him, even as San’s movements sent sparks racing through you.
San’s lips found your thighs, his kisses starting feather-light before growing more deliberate. His chin grazed your skin as he nipped at the sensitive flesh, each touch both a tease and a promise. He looked up at you, his dark eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “I’ll make sure you don’t forget this.”
Your breath hitched as Seonghwa’s hands slid down your arms, his grip firm yet reassuring. “Breathe,” he murmured, his voice steady, as though coaxing you to surrender completely to the moment.
San’s lips moved closer to your cunt, but he paused just before reaching where you wanted him most, his smirk widening at your involuntary whimper. “Not so fast, kitten,” he teased, his voice a rough purr. “I’m just getting started.”
When his mouth finally started to suck on your clit, a sharp gasp escaped you, your back arching instinctively against Seonghwa’s chest. San didn’t hold back, his lips moving with deliberate, hungry intent as he ate you out, sending shockwaves through your entire body.
His roughness was intoxicating, every motion designed to pull you deeper into the haze he was creating. He groaned softly against you, the vibration adding an unexpected layer of pleasure that made you tremble.
Seonghwa’s breath hitched behind you, his hard cock, undeniable where you were pressed against him. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you as you writhed under San’s relentless attention. “You’re driving her mad,” Seonghwa murmured, his voice thick with something between awe and desire.
San pulled back just enough to respond, his lips glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin. “That’s the point,” he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. Without waiting for a reply, he delved back in, his tongue pressing against you with a roughness that had your fingers clawing at Seonghwa’s thighs for purchase.
Every flick, every deliberate drag of San’s tongue against your clit, sent you spiraling further. He alternated between sucking on it and licking with a ferocity that made it impossible to hold still. Seonghwa’s grip tightened on you as if anchoring you to reality, his lips brushing your temple in an attempt to soothe the chaos San was stirring within you.
“You’re so responsive,” San rasped against you between movements, his tone full of pride and teasing affection. “Just look at you… falling apart already.”
You could barely process his words, the sensations too overwhelming, too consuming. The heat of Seonghwa’s body behind you and the rough, unrelenting intensity of San in front of you created a heady mix that left you utterly at their mercy.
San abruptly pulled back, his lips glistening, leaving you teetering on the edge of your orgasm. The sudden absence of his touch was a shock, and you whimpered, your hips instinctively tilting forward to chase the sensation. His smirk was devastatingly smug as he leaned back on his knees, wiping the corner of his mouth with a thumb.
“Not yet, kitten,” he drawled, his voice thick with command. “I told you, you don’t get to have it until I decide you’ve earned it.” His gaze flickered up to yours, dark and unyielding.
You shook your head, defiance flickering through the haze of desire. “N-no,” you murmured, a stubborn edge creeping into your voice, even as your body trembled with need.
San chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “No?” he repeated, his tone mocking, his grin widening as though you’d just issued him a delightful challenge. “How adorable. You think you’re in control here?”
He reached out, his hand gripping your chin firmly, tilting your face toward him as he loomed closer. “Say it again,” he commanded softly, his tone laced with dangerous amusement.
Before you could respond, San turned to Seonghwa, his voice shifting to a calm authority. “Seonghwa, get undressed and take her.”
Seonghwa nodded without hesitation, his movements smooth and fluid as he stripped off his shirt and then his pants. Unlike San’s intensity, there was a softness to him, a gentler energy that eased the tension coursing through you.
“Come here,” Seonghwa murmured, his hands reaching for you as he effortlessly lifted you onto his lap. His touch was steady, his hands warm and soothing against your skin. Seated against him, his bare chest pressing into your back, the stark contrast between his tenderness and San’s roughness was grounding.
San sat back on his heels, watching with a smirk that told you he wasn’t done playing with you yet. “Let’s see if she behaves better for you,” he teased, his tone dripping with dominance as his eyes stayed locked on yours. “But don’t go too soft, Hwa. She needs to learn what happens when she tries to defy me.”
Seonghwa shifted beneath you, his hands steady on your hips as he aligned himself with your hole. His lips brushed against your shoulder, soft and reassuring, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. “Relax for me, love,” he murmured, his voice calm yet filled with anticipation.
San, seated to the side, leaned back slightly, his hand lazily stroking himself, cock dripping with precum as his sharp eyes stayed glued to the scene in front of him. “That’s it, Hwa,” he purred.“Show her how gentle can still make her squirm.”
Seonghwa’s movements were slow, deliberate, as though savoring every second of the moment. You shuddered at the sensation, your body caught between his tenderness and San’s burning gaze. San’s breath hitched audibly, a low groan escaping him as he watched, the sight clearly fueling his own pleasure.
“You look so pretty like this,” San teased, his voice dripping with dominance. “Caught between us… exactly where you’re meant to be.”
Seonghwa’s pace grew more measured, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, “You’re doing so well.” His fingers pressed into your hips, grounding you, his every movement pulling you closer to the edge. Your body trembled, anticipation building as you surrendered to the steady rhythm he set.
Just as the high began to crest, San’s voice cut through the haze. “Stop.”
The word was sharp, commanding, and immediate. Seonghwa stilled instantly, his hands retreating as he pulled out, leaving you gasping and teetering on the brink.
“No, please,” you begged, turning your desperate gaze to San. “Don’t stop now. Let me—please, I need to—”
San leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he brushed his fingers along your cheek. “Need to?” he mused, his tone deceptively soft. “That’s rich, coming from someone who spent all week defying me. Do you think you’ve earned the right to finish?”
You shook your head, swallowing the lump of frustration and desire in your throat. “I’ll do better, I swear.”
San smirked, his hand tangling in your hair as he guided you to kneel on the edge of the bed. “You’ll prove that now,” he said smoothly, his thumb grazing your lower lip. “Open up.”
You obeyed, lips parting as he slid himself past them, his cock heavy on your tongue. San’s groan was low, a sound of satisfaction as his hand held you steady. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hips rolling forward just enough to test your limits.
Behind you, the bed shifted as Seonghwa moved into position, his hands caressing your waist before sliding lower, his warmth against you unmistakable. “Seonghwa… fuck her” San instructed, his voice deepening. “I want her to feel you stretch her out while she sucks me off”
Seonghwa hummed in acknowledgment, his lips brushing the nape of your neck as he moved against you, his presence filling the space San had left.
San tilted your chin up slightly, his movements patient but firm. “Keep your eyes on me,” he said, his voice a gentle command. “I want to see how much you enjoy this. How much you’re willing to give.”
Your muffled whine vibrated against San’s cock as you tried to keep your focus, but the overwhelming combination of sensations was too much to bear.
San smirked, clearly noticing your struggle, and his grip in your hair tightened slightly, tilting your head for better leverage. “You’re distracted,” he growled. “Let me help you focus.”
Without warning, San thrust his hips forward, sliding himself deeper into your throat. The sudden intrusion made you gag, your throat tightening reflexively around him as your hands gripped his thighs for stability. San groaned low and deep, the sound vibrating through the room.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Taking me so well, even when you’re choking on it. Maybe you’re learning after all.”
Behind you, Seonghwa’s hands on your hips tightened, his movements stuttering as he felt your body react to San’s forcefulness. Your whimper against San’s cock sent a shiver through Seonghwa, but he stilled himself, obeying the unspoken command to pause until San decided you’d earned more.
Your throat burned as San held himself deep, his hand flexing against the back of your head, keeping you exactly where he wanted. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t dare pull away. His dominance was intoxicating, even in its intensity.
When San finally relented, pulling back just enough to let you gasp for air, his thumb stroked your cheek. “Not bad,” he mused, tilting his head. “But you’re not there yet.”
Seonghwa’s soft whisper reached your ear, grounding you as your chest heaved. “You’re doing so well,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your shoulder.
San’s sharp gaze flicked to Seonghwa, and he gave a single, measured nod. “Now.”
Seonghwa didn’t need further instruction. He resumed his movements, his hips rolling forward in a rhythm that made your toes curl. His groan was soft, almost reverent, as he leaned closer, his chest pressed against your back.
San’s grip in your hair loosened slightly, guiding you back to him. “You’re going to make up for every moment you disobeyed this week,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “And if you’re good enough, maybe—just maybe—I’ll let you finish this time.”
“M-ngh, San!” your moan revrebrating through his cock. You steadied yourself and held onto his hips, catching your breath as Seonghwa started to fully thrust into you again.
“What?” he stopped for a second.
You pulled off San, tears streaming down your cheeks, voice trembling and high-pitched, “Please, San, please! I can’t—please don’t stop again—I need it so bad, I’m begging you!”
San, gripping your jaw firmly, forcing you to look up at him, his eyes sharp and unyielding, “You’re begging now? After everything this week? After all the times you ignored me, pushed me, defied me?” he lets out a low, mocking laugh, “And now you think whining like this will get you what you want?”
“I’ll do anything—anything! I swear! Just don’t stop again, please, please!” you begged abd begged, looking up at him in the eyes.
He brushed his thumb over your trembling lips, “Anything, huh? You’re pathetic, you know that? Look at you—crying, shaking, acting like you have no control. But fine. You want a chance? Let’s make a deal.”
“Yes—yes! Anything..."
“Then.. you’ve got two minutes to make me finish. Two minutes. If you can do that, maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you finish, too. But if you fail? You’ll go the rest of the night without cumming. Do you understand me?”
"Y-yes...yes!" you whined out.
“Good. Then stop wasting time and prove to me you’re worth it.” San then grabbed you by your hair, tangling his head and pulling you harshly to his cock.
You position yourself between San’s legs, wasting no time as your hand wraps firmly around his base. Without hesitation, you take his cock into your mouth, deep and fast, like it’s the only thing you’ve ever needed. The warmth and wetness make him groan immediately, his head tilting back as he struggles to keep up with the sheer intensity of your actions.
Your lips tighten around him, sliding down as far as you can go, your tongue pressing firmly against the underside, hitting the sensitive spots that makes his thighs tense. You don’t hold back.. your movements are fast, relentless, and filled with purpose. Your hand follows where your mouth leaves off, stroking him with a slick, twisting motion, matching the rhythm as your head bobs in a steady, fervent pace.
You hollow your cheeks, creating a tight suction that pulls another deep groan from him, his hands gripping your hair as his control slips. The sounds you make are shamelessly messy—wet, eager, and desperate—as you take him in deeper with every motion, your throat flexing to handle more.
His breathing is ragged now, his hips shifting, but you keep control, doubling down as you focus on the sensitive head, swirling your tongue around it in quick, firm strokes before sliding down again, taking him to the base, choking on the tip. You whine softly, the vibrations sending a jolt through him, his voice breaking as he whines out, his body tightening.
“Ah, fuck… “ he moaned out, his back lolling back in pleasure.
Let's not forget that Seonghwa was fucking you relentlessly from behind, your walls clenching onto him as he gripped your waist. He was close, you knew it. Breaths ragged near your ear and his hands were holding tight on your skin, but you needed to focus on San… Seonghwa would cum by himself only by fucking you. But San.. oh god, he'd always destroy you before his pleasure.
“Just like that, kitten..” he said and gripped his hands better in your hair, pulling you as close as possible. Your nose hit his pelvis, throat sore and gagging on his cock. He stood like that for a couple of moments and thrusted slightly even deeper, to which he came right down your throat. You choked on his huge load and pulled back, his cock resting in your tongue as silky white cum was still dripping heavily from the tip. When he was done, he pulled back and lifted your chin, to make you look at him.
“Swallow. Everything.” you did as told and then as he hummed in satisfaction.
“Now now… Seonghwa, would you mind switching places? Your thrusts are not roug enough, I'm afraid…” San said and lifted you up. In one swift motion he sat you onto his lap, your chest against his.
Seonghwa’s hands slid down your back as he stepped behind you, his movements deliberate and steady. His grip settled firmly on your hips, fingers splaying over your flushed skin before drifting lower to your ass. He kneaded the soft flesh with a firm but gentle touch, his lips grazing the back of your neck in contrast to San’s unrelenting dominance.
San, already seated with you straddling his lap, tightened his hold on your waist. His fingers pressed into the soft, reddened skin, a mark of his earlier fervor. His eyes burned into yours as he shifted slightly, his voice low and commanding. “Don’t forget who you’re really here for,” he growled, his tone sending shivers down your spine.
With a single, precise motion, San thrust into you fully, his body melding with yours as a broken cry escaped your lips. Seonghwa, aligning himself carefully, followed suit, his movements smoother but no less intense. The contrast between them was electrifying—San’s rough, possessive thrusts pairing with Seonghwa’s controlled rhythm to drive you higher, the two of them moving in tandem as if sharing one unspoken goal.
San tilted your chin up with one hand, his lips brushing against yours briefly before he spoke. “You’re doing so well, kitten,” he murmured, though his words carried a teasing edge. “But you’re not done yet.”
Seonghwa groaned behind you, his fingers digging into your skin as his thrusts became sharper, his restraint slipping. The three of you moved in perfect synchronicity, the overwhelming sensations building rapidly until you could no longer hold back. Your cries filled the room as the tension snapped, your body trembling violently as the release overtook you.
Seonghwa followed closely, his grip tightening as he buried himself fully, his soft groan of pleasure vibrating against your shoulder. He kissed the back of your neck tenderly, his breath warm against your skin, a grounding contrast to the whirlwind you were caught in.
But San wasn’t finished. His grip on your waist grew firmer as he quickened his pace, chasing his own high even as your overstimulated body quivered against him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he pushed you further, your senses overwhelmed.
“That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough with satisfaction as his movements became erratic. “Give me everything.”
With one final, deep thrust, San found his release, his second high hitting him harder than the first. The intensity of the moment pushed you over the edge again, a sudden, powerful wave washing over you as your body reacted uncontrollably. You gasped as the sensation hit, your body trembling as you squirted, the overstimulation wringing every last drop of energy from you.
San held you close, his hands firm but steady as he rode out his high, his breath ragged against your neck. “Perfect,” he murmured finally, his tone softening as he kissed your temple.
As Seonghwa finally pulled out, a soft groan leaving his lips, he shifted to gather you into his arms. His movements were gentle, cradling you as though you were made of glass, his lips pressing against your temple with quiet affection. “You did so well,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.
San leaned forward, his hand stroking down your back in deliberate, slow motions. A light pat followed, though it carried a teasing edge as he smirked. “Let this be a lesson, kitten,” he said, his tone playful yet firm. “If you ever decide to test me like that again… this is exactly what will happen. Only next time, I won’t go so easy on you.”
You gave a soft whimper of acknowledgment, too exhausted to do much else, and Seonghwa chuckled behind you. “You’re relentless, San,” he said, though his words carried a fond amusement. His gaze flicked between you and San. “She needs some care now, not another lecture. Why don’t you take her to get cleaned up?”
San hummed, his grin softening just a fraction as he leaned in to press a kiss against your damp hair. “Fair enough,” he replied before slipping his arms around you, seamlessly lifting you from Seonghwa’s hold and pulling you against his chest. His grip was firm yet comforting, holding you close as he stood.
“You were perfect today, kitten,” San murmured, his tone uncharacteristically tender as he carried you toward the bathroom. His fingers traced gentle patterns against your back as he continued, “Every second of it. You have no idea how proud I am of you.”
The warmth of his words and his embrace cocooned you, easing the lingering tension in your body. As San carried you, you caught Seonghwa’s soft smile in the corner of your vision, his quiet presence a steady reassurance even as exhaustion began to pull you under.
NETWORKS: @blossomnet @illusionnet
PERMANENT TAGLIST: @mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1
#ateez fanfic#illusionnet#blossomnet#ateez x reader#ateez fic#ateez x y/n#fanfic#mingi s dimples masterlist#smut fic#ateez#ateez smut#smut#san x y/n#san fic#san x reader#san smut#choi san#seonghwa x you#seonghwa dom#seonghwa ateez#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa smut#san dom
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Hey girl! Could you do Nico x reader for a cute Halloween moment? Maybe carving pumpkins or choosing a couples costume (No smut please!)
monster mash — NH13
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pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader
warnings: cuteness????, literally nothing not even swearing, use of a knife
synopsis: nico finally learns how to carve a pumpkin [<1k]
"did you have to get such a big one?" nico complained, scooping out the insides of the pumpkin into another bowl for the 'pumpkin pie' you were most definitely not going to make. the leaves outside had already turned shades of orange and brown, falling to the wet ground to be stamped on by kids boots.
"its not that big," you argued as you sat atop the counter, one of his hoodies falling to your mid thigh keeping you cozy with the cold breeze in the air, watching him do the dirty work whilst you planned what you were going to carve into it. over the years you'd done a range of things; ghostface from scream, jack skellington and more. "stop complaining." he glared back at you, forcing a laugh to escape your lips.
"it's the size of a house!" he exaggerated, the sleeves of his rolled up jumper threatening to unravel as his arms flailed.
you rolled your eyes at him, flicking through the cookbook you'd been reading and spotting the pumpkin pie, not looking nearly as appetising as you thought it would have. "if you complained less it would be done by now." you said, fighting the urge to smile at his dramatics, it was a reason you loved him. "do you want some help."
"no, no, schatzi, you look at what we're gonna cut."
"carve, nico." he waved off your correction, still scooping out the insides of the pumpkin, threatening to cover you in 'pumpkin guts' for anymore of your attitude. "do you even know how to carve a pumpkin."
he didn't answer, still scooping as you asked him the question again, gasping when his answer was still silence. "you don't know how to carve a pumpkin!"
"nina always did it for me!" you side-eyed him, still in shock that he was 25 and had never carved a pumpkin, something that made you think back to the halloweens you'd had together where you were always the one carving. "stop judging me!"
"i can't not judge you for that, hurry up and i'm teaching you how."
your words must have been a boost of encouragement as he finished up only a few minutes later, two bowls full of pumpkin pulp and a nice and empty pumpkin ready to be carved. "okay so, this is what we're gonna do," you showed him the picture of your idea on your phone. "take the marker and draw it on the pumpkin.
nico did as you said, tracing the drawing of the image onto the pumpkin, fixing any smudging before handing you back the pen. "now you take this," you turn around rather quickly, knife in hand and nico takes extra precaution, taking the sharp object out of your hands as quickly as he could. "and stick it in the pumpkin."
"just push it in?" he asked and you nodded, carefully pushing the knife straight through the flesh of the fruit, he followed your next instructions, tracing the lines he'd made with the marker and taking out chunks of the pumpkin.
you smiled at him as the mouth started coming together, he looked so proud of himself, dimples becoming more apparent, you couldn't help but find it adorable, watching as he tried to make the eyes as circular as he could. and having to step in as he nearly stabbed himself when taking the knife out.
"i'll take over, i'm sure devils fans wouldn't appreciate their captain getting himself stabbed." he let out a laugh, passing the knife over to you before washing his sticky hands, scouring the messy kitchen drawers for a tea-light candle to sit in the pumpkin.
it was nearly finished by the time he'd found one, just a few imperfections you needed to fix or it would make you go insane when you lit the candle and place the top of the pumpkin back on.
you looked like proud parents, their little one going to its first day of school when in reality it was just a pumpkin on a counter top. "you can finally tick 'carve a pumpkin' off your bucket list"
#nico hischier#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier one shot#nico hischier blurb#hockey imagine#hockey one shot#hockey blurb#nhl imagine#nhl blurb#nhl one shot#scudevils
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Smutmas Day 1: Devil's in the Details
Alastor x Reader
(Third Person POV) Summary: Alastor hates Christmas or at least claims to. What happens when his partner tries to change his mind in less-than-normal ways? Warnings: Oral sex, use of pet names, dom/sub dynamics, costumes, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. First one, my lovelies! Requested by the beautiful and talented @redvexillum
The festive lights of Pentagram City were uncharacteristically cheery this time of year, a stark contrast to the usual chaos. Snow, or something resembling it, blanketed the streets, and garish decorations adorned every decrepit lamppost. Y/N had taken it upon themselves to deck out the hotel in Christmas splendor, despite Alastor’s vehement distaste for the holiday.
“I don’t understand why you insist on celebrating this of all things,” Alastor scoffed, leaning against the doorway of the common room. “Such a trifling, saccharine excuse for joy. And those dreadful carols. They’re an affront to good music!”
Y/N, perched on a stepladder, was carefully hanging tinsel around a grand, though slightly crooked, Christmas tree. They grinned, wiping a bit of glitter from their cheek. “Maybe you just haven’t experienced it properly, Al. Christmas is about warmth, giving, and making memories. Even demons can use a little cheer, don’t you think?”
Alastor’s eyes glinted, the crimson of his pupils sharp against the glow of the string lights. “Cheer? Darling, this,” he gestured broadly at the room, “is an abomination.”
“Sure, Al. Sure.”
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Y/N sat cross-legged on the edge of their bed, the flickering light of a single candle casting shadows on the walls as a mischievous grin played on their lips. The plan was simple yet devious—if Alastor, the ever-skeptical demon broadcaster, found Christmas insufferable, perhaps it was only because he had never seen it from a different perspective.
A skimpy Santa outfit, perfectly tailored to catch his attention and leave him utterly speechless, would be the centerpiece of their scheme. The collar came dipping low, the fluff leaving little the imagination while the stockings came knee height. And to top it off, a piece of fabric that could be hardly called a skirt finished with a silken black bow. The devil was in the details after all.
Y/N imagined his crimson eyes widening, his sly grin faltering, if only for a moment. They chuckled quietly, already picturing his voice stumbling over his usual smug commentary. Christmas spirit wasn’t just about carols and snow; sometimes, it took a little creativity to light the spark.
The night of the big reveal arrived. The hotel was quiet, the soft hum of holiday jazz emanating from an old phonograph in the Radio’s demons room on the fifth floor. Alastor, as usual, lounged in his favorite armchair, a steaming cup of something, probably tea, in his hand. He was muttering about how much he despised the season when Y/N stepped into the room. A true humbug he was.
“Alastor, darling~” Y/N called, their voice light and teasing.
He looked up, ready to deliver a sarcastic remark—only to have the words catch in his throat.
There they stood, wearing a Santa outfit that had been decidedly... modernized. The deep crimson fabric hugged their form perfectly, trimmed with just enough white fur to be festive but leaving little to the imagination. The slit in the skirt was borderline scandalous, and the neckline—well, it was enough to make the Radio Demon himself lose his composure for a split second.
“Well?” Y/N purred, striking a playful pose. “What do you think? Still hate Christmas?”
Alastor’s grin faltered for the briefest moment before returning, sharper than ever. He stood, circling Y/N like a predator sizing up its prey. “My, my, you’ve certainly... elevated the festivities. Though I can’t help but wonder—was this meant to convert me, or distract me?”
“Maybe both,” Y/N teased, stepping closer. “Do you feel a little warmer now?”
Alastor’s laughter filled the room, rich and unsettling. “Oh, my dear, you have no idea. Perhaps this wretched holiday does have its merits after all.”
“Good,” Y/N replied, a mischievous glint in their eye. “Because there’s more where this came from.”
Nimble fingers traced up their waist, one hand coming to rest with a vice grip on their waist. The other tugging softly on the hem of their skirt before suddenly ripping them off of their body. Exposed, Y/N let out a gasp that was quickly replaced with a lewd moan s Alastor traced a knuckle up the soaked clothed core.
“Now come sit on my lap, darling….isn’t that what you are supposed to do?”
Continuing to drag his finger across their pantie-clad slit, Alastor mumbled the words into the base of thier neck, guiding her back to his arm cahir. Working her way down, His eyes widened as they sat, the messiness that coated their plush thights and painted their hole now came to seep through the fabric of his trousers.
They could feel his hot breath near her ear but as to exact location, Y/N could only but guess. The mix of excitement and fear pulsed through their body, all of it adding to the growing arousal pooling within them. Was he going to kiss their neck? Was he going to continue his assault underneath their panties?
“Now my dear, have you been naughty or nice this year?”
With a dark chuckle, the red demon snuck a finger past the lacey red panties and dipped into their eager cunt. Choking back a moan, hands coming to grab the chair cushions with a vice grip, Y/N felt their whole world spinning. By Lucifer did he feel good. Y/N had sex plenty of times both in life and death but for some godforsaken reason, his one finger felt like they were taking the biggest thing anyone had ever taken.
“Good, I have been so good—“
“Oh have you now? Walking into my room, in sugar a vulgar outfit? Not quite the thing to get your name on the nice list~”
To their surprise, he added another finger. Hips bucking involuntarily and they could feel the coil in their stomach get tighter with every dirty word that passed his lips. Trying to get out a few words, to warn him of their fast approaching release, he ignored their whiny protests. Speeding up and driving his fingers even deeper, adding to the already lewd squelinching sounds that fill the room. Each thrust is a delicious blend of pain a pleasure, with all thoughts clouded with the feeling of the his deft digits kissing their cervix and how absoluely debauched the words out of Alastor’s mouth sound.
“That’s it, darling. Be good and let me see how nice my present is all unraveled for me.”
His lips found themselves planted on their neck, kissing and sucking softly at their tender flesh. His fingers hitting the right spot to hit every time that had the pressure building and building till they felt the coil in their stomach snap, Alastor’s name coming out in choked murmurs. Allowing time to calm down from the intense high, Alastor removed his fingers, licking the glistening slick off of them in an pornographic display.
“My darling, perhaps you will wear this again, mhmm?”
#hazbin hotel fandom#romance#radio killed the video star#answered#request#vizziepop#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#alastor smut#hazbin hotel smut#smutmas#dino's smutmas#dewdropdino#my work#do not steal
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Simon Riley X Reader: Domestic Head Cannons
Warnings: Fluffy, Simon likes you and it's obvious
Simon likes to bring you back little souvenirs from his missions. You talk about wanting to travel all the time but there's too much work to be done on base to ensure his job goes smoothly overseas.
He calls them little work trophies to make you feel more like you're part of the team. You'll never actually get a medal since you're not a soldier but as far as he's concerned your work is just as necessary to the team as his, whether it's the diplomatic emails you draft up to get the 141 into other countries with as little resistance as possible, or the intel you organize into files for their missions.
Once he's back on base and had a chance to shower, he's making a beeline to drop off his mission report to you along with your newest little trophy from Russia.
Your expression of boredom turns to a soft little smile when you see him enter your closet of an office. You at least have a little window that you've lined with tea lights and set a candle on the windowsill.
You always like to keep your spaces cozy, and he finds himself wondering how charming your quarters are.
"Done with your paperwork?" you ask, gesturing to the folder. He's always finished earlier than everyone else.
He nods and holds out a brown paper bag. "Brought you somethin' you might like."
You grin like a little kid as you pull out the gift. Sometimes it's cool rocks, an old book, or on occasion small art prints from local artists. You aren't sure where he finds these things, or even the time to go out and look for them.
This time it's a little puzzle box, about the size of your hand with intricate carvings on the side. It had a little weight to it, and you could tell there was something inside.
"Gonna make me work for it, huh?" you ask with a grin.
"A distraction to get your head out of all that paperwork," he says, his eyes crinkling softly at you, and you just know there's a smile under that mask. "Go on, give it a try," he urges.
"You're going to watch me struggle with this thing?" you ask with a laugh that sounds like music to his ears.
"It'll be some amusement for the both of us," he teases, earning a swat on the arm as you bring the box closer to your face.
"Alright, challenge accepted." You fiddle with it for about ten minutes, with Simon occasionally raising a brow at your attempts to open it until you hear a little click and pull the lid open.
You've got a triumphant smile on your face when you glance up at him, before inspecting the powdery substance inside. "Is this sugar?"
"To go with the tea from Vietnam," he explains.
"Thanks, I love it," you say, standing on your tip-toes to place a kiss on his masked cheek.
Simon is grateful for the mask hiding the red in his cheeks.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader
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❀ warnings: minors dni, alcohol, “daddy” is used, phone sex, mutual masturbation
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⋆ ˚。⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚。⋆
your room is like a sanctuary; poofy pink pillows, a silky canapé over your bed, and your fluffy duvet just melt your anxieties away at the end of the day. before bed you have a sort of ritual — after your extensive shower and skin care routine, you tip toe into your princess suite and shut off every light except the floor lamp next to the window overlooking the street.
you have a gorgeous vintage bench beneath the window that functions as your reading nook, complete with floral pink and cream cushions, lace curtains, and your favorite blanket. you’ve been loyal to your nighttime reading since you were little, always setting aside at least an hour to read before going to sleep every night. to really set the mood, you light your favorite cinnamon vanilla bean scented candle and put on a relaxing record.
humming along to lana’s soft voice, you shuffle to your towering bookshelf to look over its contents. the shelves are overflowing with books and knickknacks — most being calico critters and sonny’s angels that live happily amongst the hardbacks, complete with appropriately sized furniture for them. you carefully squeeze past the animal tea party you carefully set up to retrieve tonight’s read—
buzz buzz.. buzz buzz.. buzz buzz..
you sigh, your eyes softly closing in annoyance at your phone ringing against the wooden end table where it’s charging. one peek at the bright screen and you stomp over to answer.
“rafe? its 11:30.”
“yeah? what’re you doing up so late?” you can hear the smirk on his lips, and you roll your eyes.
“well, i was trying to read.” you snark, looking at the book in your hand and skimming over the summary on the back, pacing mindlessly over to your reading bench with the phone pressed to your ear. “what’re you doing? working?”
“nah, actually — i was just thinking about you.” in truth, he was supposed to be working, but the scotch in his glass distracted him. now he’s reclining in his office chair, tapping his pen against his wooden desk as he speaks. “missed you today.”
“mhm.” you muse. he’d invited you to come golfing with him, topper, and kelce but you refused. sometimes it felt like he was a completely different person with them, and you don’t want to be around that. you hadn’t heard from him for the rest of the day, until now.
“what? you mad at me or somethin’?”
“no.. i just — i’m frustrated! i wanted to see you.” you admit, throwing the book down on the bench cushion beside you. “and only you — not top and kelce — just you!”
“aw, pretty girl, m’so sorry.” his tone is almost mocking, clearly not actually apologetic as he slides his toned hand over the bulge in his pants. he really does miss you, and he certainly missed watching you prance around the country club in your mini skirts. even now you’re just too cute when you’re angry, it’s driving him crazy. “how ‘bout you lay down, i’ll help you relax, yeah? yeah.. lemme make it up to you.”
you pause, all of a sudden very aware of how his breathing has deepened. he couldn’t be.. “rafe? what’re you doing?” you ask again, listening closely to the muffled sound of his clothes rustling.
he has the phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder, both hands working to pull off his belt. “didn’t i just tell you to do somethin’, princess? go lay down.”
you blink like a deer in headlights — you want to stay mad at him, after all he had completely blown you off all day. but his gravely voice is already making you push your thighs together, you’d rather he take care of you than prove a point. “mm.. okay.”
“yeah, s’what i thought.” rafe breathes over the phone. you’re always so pliant for him, so desperate to please him you’d do anything he says. you jump onto your poofy bed, scaring your poor cat awake as you roll onto your back.
“wanna tell daddy what you got on?”
you look down your torso, manicured fingers dragging down your thigh as you try to stay patient. “just a tank top n those cute panties you got me. you know the pink lacy ones?” you play with the bow attached to the front of them in thought, remembering how he’d ripped them right off of you last time he snuck over.
“oh yeah? that’s it?” he’s amused, his smirk growing as he pictures you putting on practically nothing to go read. he groans at the thought, freeing his cock from his boxers. “i like ‘em better off.”
“i bet.” you bite your lip, giggling as your fingers slip under the thin fabric to pull them down. you want more than anything for him to appear at your door so he can take care of you properly, his encouragement over the phone just isn’t the same. “you should come here n help me.”
“oh, believe me, i want to. could sneak in the window and fuck you right — like you deserve.” rafe coos. “remember last time? had you on your back, spread out on your bed with your pretty legs around me.” the memory makes you whine, hips moving on their own in search of friction. “you playin’ with that pussy like i do, baby?”
you take that as permission, humming a soft, “mhm..” as you dip your fingers into your mouth to wet them, then settling them in between your folds.
“don’t tell me i’m gettin’ you all wet already, princess.” he teases, his smugness interrupted with a grunt as he slowly strokes himself to your soft moans. “such a good girl, see what happens when you listen? feels nice, huh?”
“ah.. rafe—”
“shh, i got you. you just worry about playin’ with that pretty pussy n daddy’ll handle the rest, a’ight?”
maybe it wouldn’t hurt to skip reading for one night?
⋆ ˚。⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚。⋆
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#my inbox is open! ‧₊˚.#obx#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron drabble#rafe drabble#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#minors dni#tw daddy
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Take Me to War
PT1 Friendly Fire
Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader
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A writer, I think is someone who pays attention to the world. We are observers, it is in our nature to be off-putting and turn shallow things deep.
Premise: Your neighbour is becoming increasingly loud and you decide to do something about it.
PT 2 Here!
Two things I hate the most?
My neighbour and New York City.
They shared something in common, they never rest. I liked my quiet life in my small town until I was convinced that all of the greatest writers lived in the city, what a joke. I sold my virtue to move to New York and now my body burned with the shame of not belonging.
I worked as a journalist and in advertisement but it didn't fill the gaping mass that consumed me, I felt like a sellout so I quit to do freelance, and now I feel like even more of a sellout. Freelance is making me think that I hate ghostwriting more than I hate my neighbour and New York City.
It's like you do all of the work and get zero reward but I'm desperate to pay the bills and all that stuff I've been telling myself all my life 'I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me' well, the rich man most certainly had me. I was paid an almost criminal amount of money to pour my soul into art just for it to get stamped beneath a new name and make a gross income six times the size of what I sold it for.
I look for happiness everywhere but I do not find it. I search for it in things everyone seems to pry joy from; I go clubbing, walk in Central Park, and date around, but happiness doesn't seem to exist there for me.
I plead for it in my morning cups of tea with a spoonful of honey, the sunshine glittering in a puddle after a rainstorm, for a brief moment, it flickers in the light of my cinnamon-scented candle. The truth is I am almost comforted by my sadness and it is in my lowest moments that my creations are the most beautiful, it is like I am dead and I despise those who aren't for I enjoy the company of my silence more than anyone I have ever met.
It was my dream for my name to be above 'New York Times Best Selling Author' but instead, it is just my work beneath it and maybe that's why I'm so bitter.
Right now as I am trying to salvage the bits and pieces I was given by a washed-up pop star for her memoir my neighbour is screaming and laughing incoherently in their apartment, it makes me miss living in an actual house.
The noise usually started up when I would finish up my writing and get ready for bed, then it would go all the way through the night. The dumb fucker probably threw parties every single night; my roommate never faced an issue with this as she worked at a club and was usually working when the deafening noises would begin.
I on the other hand who lived in that apartment and worked from that apartment was always cursed to listen to the random thumps and spats of laughter that sounded all through the night. At least once a night when I'm sound asleep, I hear a bang against the wall and each time without fail, I'm brought awake with my heart thumping.
Trust me, I have retaliated.
On occasion when I'm sleep-deprived and at my absolute limit I'll bang on the walls, that only stops the noise for a minute. I've even complained to my landlord and that one week was heaven until it eased back to the clamour that I've almost grown used to.
Almost.
I still hate it.
I'm broken from my thoughts when my phone rings, it vibrates till it's almost at the edge of my desk and I feel for it; don't worry buddy, I wanna jump too. I read the caller ID and I almost wanted to gag, it was a woman from the publishing company who reached out to me and asked me to write Nicole Elliot's novel. Despite wanting to throw my phone against the wall to stop Noemi's constant checkups and get back at my neighbour while I'm at it, I answer the phone "Hey, Noemi!" I glance out the window where the winter sun has long set, leaving nothing but billboards, street lamps and neon signs to light up the New York night. Under the unforgiving lights I can barely make out the gentle snowfall.
"Hey," She draws it out and I can hear in her voice that she is smiling "I know it's a little late, just checking in, how is the draft coming along?" A loud thump sounds against my wall along with intolerant cackling "What's that?"
"Just some street noise," I dismiss "Anyways, the draft is coming along great, I'm a couple thousand words away from finishing it. I will of course send it to you and I would really love it if you could reach out to Nicole and ask for her opinion on it before I carry on with the final copy," I give a middle finger to my wall, even if my neighbour can't see me, it makes me feel a little bit more formidable "I did follow her outline, which was difficult but I think I salvaged it pretty well."
This time there is a yelp from my neighbour and what sounds like someone slamming their hands down onto a table, Noemi thankfully ignores it "You haven't been in touch with Nicole?"
My eyebrows furrow "She hasn't responded to any of my emails and she's been turning down all of our scheduled Zoom calls, so no, I have not been in touch with her."
"Weird," Noemi comments and there is a brief break of silence between us "She's been M.I.A on our end too," I could hear her scribble something down. "So can you get the draft to me by Friday?"
Two days? If I lock myself inside and don't see the sun then I totally can "Absolutely!" I do work better under a deadline.
"Great," She sounds almost relieved "We will hunt down Nicole, it would be nice to get her greenlight with this but whether or not she approves it, she has already signed off and it will be going to print."
"Okay," I fight the urge to respond with 'sick' or 'aight' because I'm an adult now and someone who is masquerading as a professional.
"Sorry, what was that you mentioned about an outline?" Noemi asks, she sounds more confused with each word "I wasn't aware Nicole made any-
She is swiftly cut off by a crash from the other side of my wall, when I say crash I mean it. It sounded like someone just bodied their car into drywall. My eyes went wide as I saw a crack splitting up my once pristine white wall. I hold my phone against my collarbone as I get up and pound my fist against the wall, giving it a kick for extra measure.
"Is everything alright?"
"Certainly," The nice thing about phone calls is that the person on the other end can't see your awkward habits or subtle outbursts (Or neighbours breaking through your shared wall). After I hit the wall, everything went silent for just a second before laughter sounded heavily from multiple people. "Noemi, thank you for sourcing me out to write this, I am really grateful for this opportunity I will send you that draft on Friday." I try to wrap up the call but she speaks up.
"Well, I've read your work and I was very impressed, I trust you will do well with this. Sorry to have called you so late-
"Thanks, have a nice night now!" I'm talking faster than I can even think, the only thing in my head is the fact that my neighbour is slowly deteriorating my wall.
"Wait-
Before Noemi can finish her sentence, I've hung up the phone. I'm leaning back in my cushy office chair, hands gripping my hair as I stare down the newly formed crack in the wall. I don't entirely like to be confrontational, even in school I hated drama, but I was beginning to think it was necessary.
I saved the progress I had made on the memoir and pushed myself up from my desk. I was clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and some plaid pants, it was my writing attire and in the moment I didn't care much to make a good first impression. It was fucking freezing the second I got up from my desk.
The moulding on my bedroom window was broken which allowed the frigid New York air to slip into my room and make me shiver with each breath. At my desk, I would usually have a throw blanket to shroud my freezing body but the moment I discarded it, I felt regret. I almost wanted to wrap myself in it to confront my neighbour but the pyjamas alone didn't help me look tough.
I did however shove my feet into some cow slippers and march right up to their apartment.
Apartment 2D stood in front of me, the pastel blue door making me angrier with every second that I looked at it. I rapped my knuckles on the wood and crossed my arms to stop me from shuddering.
My nerves built up as I slowly heard a door within the apartment shut followed by footsteps leading to the door. I would just ask them politely to quiet down and calmly work on a way to fix the shared wall that they are slowly ruining.
The door opens and staring me down is a woman. I had expected it to be a man to be truthful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the colour teetered on the verge of auburn and brown. The woman is clad in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, it's almost parallel to my outfit.
"You need to be quiet," I say the first words that come to mind "And stop assaulting my fucking wall."
She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "Are you apartment 3D?" She asks to which I nod "I knew you would be stopping by soon." She has this sheepish and almost sardonic smile on her face and despite the amusement she's portraying I can see sadness brewing in her green eyes like a storm.
"I don't know what you're doing in there where you are up all night, I don't even have a clue how you sleep and work with all this time to spare to be a nuisance." I say and then swiftly feel the urge to backtrack "I'm sorry, that was a little rude, but mate, I can't sleep or work when you're being loud doing whatever you do."
"Fuck," She mutters looking back into her apartment and then at me "I'm sorry, I'll keep it down."
"What about the wall?"
Her eyes look me up and down, settling on my cow slippers "I'll find someone to fix the wall."
I press my lips tight together, looking dead into her eyes, scraping my brain for something else to say. It was almost like I wanted to fight. I had expected this to be a full-out conversation that ended in yelling but god she was pretty and she was telling me just what I wanted. "Okay."
"Okay?"
I regard her once more with what I assume is a cold glare before ushering back into my apartment and slamming the door behind me, the whole time, my neighbour watches me from her doorway.
That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I'd had in a month.
-
I woke up earlier than I would've liked when my roommate Margot came home from work at 4:56 on the dot. She made sure to slam every single door and cupboard before throwing herself onto her bed in all of her makeup and musty clothes that had to endure whatever happens at a nightclub between the hours of 8 pm and 4 am, which I can't imagine is very clean.
Still, even though I was a little ahead of schedule I fell into my morning routine. It started with ignoring my phone, this was followed by a mug of Bengal spice tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of cream.
Sometimes I would curl up on the couch, though it snowed last night and I loved fresh snow. Freshly fallen snow absorbed sound, it was like soundproofing for the earth. There wasn't anything like the rare peace you could find in New York. I figured I would have my morning tea on the fire escape.
My peaceful image was destroyed the second I pried my window open and crawled through I was hit with the intense smell of pot. "Shit," I mutter, instinctively wafting the scent away from my nose.
"Sorry, man," I see my neighbour leaning against the railing of the fire escape, nursing a joint. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shared a level of the fire escape with her, I had never seen her out here but now the smell of weed that drifted through the damaged moulding on my window made sense, I had always assumed it to be Margot.
"Joint for breakfast?" I ask, half-joking. A dusting of powdery snow adorns each step and railing, creating a delicate layer of white that contrasts with the industrial gray of the metal though it looks like my neighbour has pushed all of the snow off the platform.
"Nah, for dinner I guess, it helps me sleep," She's in the same outfit from last night, except her hair is now loose around her face and she threw a hoodie over her tanktop.
I furrow my eyebrows "You've been up all night?" The slight tension from the previous night has dissolved completely.
"Yeah," She says it like it was a stupid question and it partially was but I hadn't stayed up that late since New Year only because I was the designated driver and was in charge of getting everyone home safe. "I don't sleep much, that's probably why I keep you up all night."
I mean, I'd let her keep me up in other ways "Honestly, I've gotten used to it, it's almost like white noise." I try to sympathize even if it isn’t necessarily true.
"Next time I'm loud, you have every right to bang on my door and chew me out." She takes a drag from her joint and I watch as the smoke escapes her lips, her cheeks tinted pink from the cold.
"Good to know," I glance behind her at the open window and all I see are purple LED lights cutting through the darkness of her apartment. "Now I know that we share a fire escape I'll just crawl through your window and yell at you that way," I joke, taking a sip from my snoopy mug.
This makes her laugh in the slightest, she crushes what remains of her joint on the cold railing and tosses the bud into the pot of a dead plant that's covered in snow and has lived on this fire escape long before I moved in; one time I just about removed it but I felt bad, it's like I was evicting it from its rightful home "Feel free."
"Am I allowed to ask why you're up all night breaking the sound barriers?" I ask, pulling my fuzzy robe tighter around my body to fight the bitter air. "Are you the leader of a cult? Would it be better for the world in the long run if I push you right now?"
The corners of her lips curl up into a smile once again "You've figured me out, just know I've got some big plans with Koolaid," She plays into my teasing.
"It was flavour-aid, actually." I don't know why I said that.
"What the fuck is flavour-aid?"
"Koolaid basically," Silence stretches between us "So what do you actually do all night?"
"It's a bit complicated," She says, of course, it was complicated. "I work from home," She couldn't do something normal, she probably did voice acting or ran a podcast or some weird shit like that.
"Sick," Don't worry, I made myself cringe when I said that too "I work from home too."
"Yeah, you said something about work last night, are you in marketing?"
I shake my head "I'm a writer," every time I tell someone that, I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I know it wasn't a noble career like my parents had hounded me over, but it felt noble to me. I had two absent parents and was raised by a pack of wolves, I would devour as much food as fast as I could because I didn't know when I would be eating next. I was far too emotional to be around all of the narcissists who preferred their own faces to my company, the only friend I had was the written word.
Since then I have been serving my soul up to strangers through word documents.
The thought makes me homesick for the arms that did not hold me and I truly expect my neighbour to make a mockery of me, the way others have. The way they've told me 'It's a tough industry but hang in there!' and pat me on the back like I'm a hopeful child clinging to her mother's skirts.
"That's really cool," She smiles while she gazes out to the skyline, I can see her perfect side profile and ski-slope nose "I wanted to be a writer, I thought myself to be a poet, and then I thought myself to be a scientist and wanted to be an astronaut. Now, I'm here."
"Where's here exactly?"
"Working things out, figure it out as I go," She shrugs like she is unsure of her answer.
I think it's beautiful how everything around me has been touched by human hands and carries so much history. For a quick moment, my mind wonders to those who built this building, the calloused hands that crafted the iron railing and now my neighbour who was leaning against it. "What's the end goal with this whole freefall thing?"
"To make it out alive."
"And your name?"
"It's Ellie."
-
That night Ellie stuck to being quiet as she promised. The next night was a different story. I was so close to finishing the draft of Nicole Elliot's memoir and was praying that the deadline would pass with no issue.
However, the noise began again. I was coming around to like Ellie and I didn't want to go yell at her again so I shoved my headphones in and turned up my playlist as loud as I could. There is no song I can blast in my headphones to drown it out.
She did say that the next time I was loud I could come and chew her out, I wouldn't do that; I would just knock on her door and quickly tell her that she was being too loud, and then we would both carry on with our respective work.
I stopped in front of the smooth door and raised my hand to knock. Ellie slips the door open just a crack, when she sees that it's me she opens the door. "Hey, Ellie."
"Hello," She smiles "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a very nice smile.
We both know the circumstances of my visit but I spell it out anyway "Dude, you're way too loud, it's disruptive and I'm working under a deadline."
"I know, I'm sorry." She looks genuinely apologetic.
"I don't know any office job that needs you to scream for hours on end," Alright, that blows what could've been a simple visit where she apologizes and I leave, I always had to add on.
"Right, sorry," She carries herself with so much confidence that it is like she is wearing armour made of gold though she has these subtle awkward tendencies of someone who has never been loved and was forced to improvise. "It's hard to explain,"
"Yeah, you've said-
"Do you wanna come and see?"
I'm taken a little aback and for a minute I think this is all a ploy for Ellie to lock me in her her apartment and kill me because she is sick of her neighbour banging on her door "What?"
"Well, you've asked a couple of times and if you have a minute I can show you."
I pause, mauling over her proposal. I think of my laptop on my spruce desk, open to the final pages of the memoir and I make up my mind "Alright, just not too long."
"If you say so," Ellie opens the door wider for me to move past her and then shuts it behind us.
Ellie's apartment is what I had expected from her even though it is surprisingly nice. She has a large L-shaped sofa in the living room adorned with throw blankets and pillows and a huge flatscreen with a coffee table in front of it. The layout is exactly like mine but inverted, her open kitchen has some odd knick-knacks that looked like they belonged on an Amazon must-haves list.
I don't go into her bathroom and the door leading to one of the rooms (What is equivalent to Margot's bedroom) is shut. The apartment itself is pretty sparse aside from little bits and pieces as she only moved in a month prior.
On the left side, I see that purple LED spilling out of what I assume to be her bedroom.
She walks in ahead of me and the second I follow in after her there is one question I have to ask "Ellie, are you a porn-star?" There are entirely too many computers in here. Her desk is set up with one of those fancy triple-screen PCs and she has a laptop placed seemingly randomly on a white loveseat that's pressed against the right wall.
There is one of those galaxy lamps that projects that trippy shit onto your walls and ceiling. The screen of her PC is facing our shared wall and I can see a huge hole where I assume that a loud crash from the other night occurred. Plastered all over the walls are posters from video games and movies, many of which I hadn't seen.
"What?" She sounds nearly offended "No," she grabs a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolds it beside her black florid office chair. She sits on the folding chair and motions for me to sit in the office chair. "Come, sit."
I hesitantly sit in the chair "Are you going to attack me now?" I ask, getting defensive for no particular reason other than it was in my nature "Because I've read The Outsiders and I'm pretty sure I can fight."
She chuckles "I'm not gonna fight you."
"Because I'd win?"
She furrows her eyebrows but has this look of amusement on her face "Yeah, definitely."
"So what is this?" I motion around at all of her equipment.
Ellie puts one earbud in then hand me the other "Chat," She says, looking dead at the camera clipped onto her PC "This is my neighbour who came to yell at me for being annoying, she has every right."
"Who are you talking to?"
"I'm streaming," She said, clicking something on the screen so it changed, instead showing Ellie and I in front of the camera, I looked absolutely lost next to a rolling chat bar full of jokes that I didn't understand and people saying hello to me.
"So I was right," I turn my attention to Ellie "You are an internet person."
"Yeah, I'm an internet person but you weren't right, I don't do porn."
"Not yet," I shrug "Times are desperate," To this, the chats come in even faster than before. "So do you just sit here all night and scream at people?"
"I play video games and do challenges, sometimes I do just sit here and scream at them."
"That makes so much sense," I say "If there's any job that needs you to be obnoxiously loud and annoying, it's a youtube personality."
"Okay, well-
"So you're like Logan Paul?"
Her eyes go wide "No-
"What explains why your eyes are so bloodshot."
"You are a writer," She says it like it's a fact I wasn't aware of "You are in no place to judge, you probably spend as much time in front of a screen as me."
I nod "I hate to say you're right," My attention shifts to the hole behind me "Can you explain how playing video games put a hole through the wall?"
Ellie looks almost embarrassed, she doesn't say anything in response, instead, she just clicks something to screen share with us in a little box in the corner and then goes into YouTube. She types in 'Ellie Williams falls through wall' My eyebrows furrow as I read it, and she clicks the first video that pops up.
The video starts off strong; Ellie is cackling at something that her friend off-camera is saying, her friend then makes a comment that makes her laugh even harder and she throws herself back in her chair. This act breaks it, you can hear the chair snap beneath the pressure and Ellie just lets it happen as the chair crashes against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she's just put a massive hole into the wall and seconds later you can hear me on the other side banging my hands on the wall. Her eyes go wide and she stares at her friend off-camera, all of the laughter stops abruptly before her friend can't hold it in anymore and erupts in chortles, and the video cuts off.
My hand flies over my mouth to fight back the laughter I so badly want to let out. Ellie and I sit wordlessly, the only sound being donations on the screen and my giggles slipping through. Eventually, I manage to compose myself and look to Ellie, I don't have much to say except for "Oh my god."
A/N: Streamer! Ellie won the poll so here we are. As I was drafting out the other chapters for When I Was Your Girl, I decided that it is most likely to be discontinued unless I do a rewrite which will not be in the near future. I’m not rocking with the plot and there was a lot of mixed feedback, sorry if you were invested I guess, but you have this series to be invested in now!
#ellie williams#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x you#the last of us#the last of us ellie#ellie the last of us#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x reader#tlou#abby anderson#ellie williams au#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie tlou#joel and ellie#ellie williams x reader fluff#fluff#streamer!ellie#streamer!au#writer au#ellie x you#tlou hbo#tlou2
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Tiny AIW Excerpt…
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(This doesn’t guarantee a bigger story in the future, have mercy on me pls /lh)
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
(prologue thing?)
They took away everything I had left to hold onto. Everything but them, at least. It almost felt freeing, a relief, in a strange way.
The scent of flowers was thick and sweet to my senses. My thoughts slowly blur together as I drowned in the heavy aroma.
No longer did I have to uphold myself as a person. In this land, responsibility was merely a word. A silly word, at that. I was being offered the chance to be freed from the pressure of my former life on a silver platter by the people who have unfailingly proved their devotion to me again and again. Who would I be to deny them?
Gentle hands of cool metal joints and warm motors take my own of flesh. There is an unspoken promise in our grasps.
Out there, there wasn’t anything waiting for me. Really, I had submitted to my fate long before I came here. Before I met them.
I would miss the surface.. My friends.. My brother..
If I just stayed right where I was, surely I’d be happy. He said so. They both did. And I believe them, as much as they believe in me that I’ll stay. I have nowhere to run, therefore I’d never think to walk.
Here, I’ll be safe. Here, I’ll be happy.
• • • • •
(Main excerpt)
“Sugarcube!~ It’s time for tea!”
I shift as a voice rouses me awake and I groan in protest. I felt so warm… I didn’t want to get up… Get up…
Get up from where?
Eyes snapping open, I sit up, finding myself on a grass and wool-stuffed mattress. A warm blanket made of soft fibers had been wrapped around my body, shrugged off when I began to scan my surroundings.
The room was dimly lit and the air was crisp, making me imagine the walls were made of stone or perhaps bricks. Unfortunately my vision wasn’t the best without my glasses. Candles were lit about the room. There were no windows, but there was a lone door on the far wall. Was I underground?
“There’s my little sunshine!” The same voice from before warbled, followed by the clinking of porcelain. “Come! Come! Before your tea gets cold!”
With bleary vision, I turn toward the voice. At a small wooden table set in the middle of the room sat a familiarly flamboyant red-clad figure with their knees up to their chest as they tried to sit in one of the child-sized chairs. I began shuffling off the bed, brushing myself off.
“M-Mister Hatter?” I mumbled as I walked over. “Wher—“
The Hatter tutted at me before I could finish, placing a delicate finger up to my lips. “Dearest little dewdrop, I told you, you can just call me Sun!”
“Uh, Sun?” I eyed the liquid the bot was pouring into the cups. Yellow flower petals and flecks of green herbs floated prettily along the surface of the unknown brew.
“Hmmm?” Hatter hummed, the swirls in his eyes seeming to glow with warmth at the sound of his name.
“Where am I? I didn’t fall down another hole again, did I?” I rubbed at my eyes. “And have you seen my glasses anywhere?”
“Oh! Those are right here!” Dodging my first question, the Hatter pointed at the other side of the table which sat the other teacup along with the distinct sheen of my lenses against the candlelight. “Come on! Have a sit with this lonely hatter!”
“Ah, right.” I nodded before taking my seat across from the bot, putting my glasses back on once I sat. Ah, vision at last.
The first thing I realized was the room was dingy, dustier than I expected. Before I could really notice any other finer details, Sun piped up once again.
“Very good, my dear,” he praised with a light laugh that made me nearly blush. “Now then, where you are. That’s a simple one!”
I leaned in with anticipation. With a relaxed—almost smug—gaze, the Hatter answered.
“I brought you home.”
#text post#art post#aiw writing#uh sure I’ll tag it that#dca#sun fnaf#sun x y/n#aiw au#hatter sun#dca au#cw yandere#a little#what can I say? it’s my thing#this is for the darker version of this au but shush#I’m bad at writing silly things#had to get the creative juices flowing somehow
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