#this was kind of all over the place so if you read it...apologies but also thanks?
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
đ˛đđđđđđ đ°đđđđ đ
My personal headcanons for Boyfriend!Caleb after what I've seen and read about his character so far. A/N: All my ride or die Caleb girlies if you disagree with anything on this list im not going to argue with you please don't take my word as law. I love y'all dont fight me đ feel free to add more in the replies âźď¸MDNIâźď¸ + cw: quick mention of cnc & primal play
[SFW]
wants to be in your skin wrapped around your nervous system and nestled in the wrinkles of your brain ; if this man could glue you to him he would
remembers everything that happened to him and mc when they were lab rats as kids which is probably where his mental health started rapidly declining
Cuddles ! ; heâll also cuddle you while youre asleep constantly ; doesnât matter if youâre in his bed, the guest bed or your bed heâll climb right in and snuggle up
leaves you bowls/plates of fresh fruit and a glass of water on your nightstand
doing backflips if you tell him he can wash your hair for you ; the longer it takes the better
monitors your social media and online presence âYou shouldn't post that no one needs to see you nakedâ âIm wearing a bikini Calebâ âBasically nakedâ
big on taking photos he wants as many photos together as possible
movie nights and date nights are his shit heâll alway be down for that ; if you two have a show you watch together he is genuinely hurt if you watch an episode without him
holds your hand even when you donât want him to ; would quite literally use his evol to hold your hand in place
if youâre sick he's at your bedside 24/7 with medication and home cooked remedies ; will spoon feed you if you let him
uses his body as a wall in large crowds to keep people from bumping into you
will beat the brakes off of anyone who dares to even look at you sideways and when you ask him what he did heâll lie and smile in your face
PINKY PROMISES ARE LAW
will take you everywhere with him and will also follow you anywhere ; heâd stand guard outside of the bathroom stall if he could
although he does have some bolts rattling around (because theyâre not loose theyâre fully free) he will pamper the hell out of you ; heâs running you a bath, rubbing your feet and cooking dinner so you have a relaxed night and warm meal
when you do help him cook heâll stand behind you and cover your hand with his while he guides your hand with the knife
will hold anything you hand him while heâs on the phone
has an entire closet of all the gifts youâve ever given him
the type to close the door and immediately lock it if youâre in a room alone with him
hates to argue with you ; heâll do it, but he regrets it afterwards apologizes profusely later with your favorites foods, sweets, treats and things
has to get a kiss before he leaves ; heâs not leaving without it
the type to wrap your arms around his neck when he goes in for a kiss
loves caging you between his arms and his body at any given chance
has to be touching you in some kind of way
the type to tuck you in every night
loves to give you massages because he loves touching you
[NSFW]
needs you to use your words âtell me how you want itâ âdonât cover your mouthâ âtell me you missed meâ âhow much?â âright there or right here? Tell meâ âopen your mouthâ âhow much do you love me?â âare you all mine? say itâ
records your moans so he can listen to them later
pretty panty lover ; buys you lots of them ; loves to have you model them and youâre getting dicked down if youâre walking around the house in them
takes you anyway he can ; favorite position? ALL OF EM mans brain turns to mush just having his hand on you ; a dom that will punish you, but gives stellar aftercare
loves to tease you by getting you wet and just rubbing his tip over the fabric ; slides the panties to the side instead of taking them off because he loves to see them on you
a vocal moaner and a yapper when he nuts ; nuts inside every time makes him feel like heâs claiming you
Intentionally fails no nut November and says âweâll try again tomorrowâ turns you every way but loose for the entire month
massages your thighs and coochie so he can watch his cum drip out of you
a slurper and moaner when he eats it ; eats the pussy and the ass
puts the colonel hat on you
100% into cnc & somnophilia I will not argue with anyone about this ; not a fan of dacryphilia he hates to see you cry
you have to have a safe word because he gets pussydrunk extremely easily
panty stealer ; keeps a pair in his pocket when he goes to work ; clean or dirty doesnât matter to him
into primal play would chase you through the woods in the Rina Kent - God of War mask and rearrange your guts right there with pleasure
would get jealous of your vibrator/dildo
#love and deepspace#lnds caleb#love and deepspace caleb#lads caleb#caleb#l&ds caleb#caleb love and deepspace#lads headcanons#nikaaaaimagine
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
BY THE BOOK : MIDORIYA IZUKU X READER
SUMMARY: When your pro hero boyfriend comes home to find you studying, he suddenly takes a great interest in helping out. You find his methods... questionable. TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft, hysterical literature (reading out loud while sexually stimulated), pro hero deku, deku still has ofa, support tech grad student reader, slight intelligence kink, gn + afab reader, cunnilingus, established relationship, aged up characters, fluff (3k) NOTES: Hi guys! I have been in survival mode as of late and the writing has been slow going; my sincerest apologies for how long itâs taking me to burn down my @ficsforgaza backlog. But I finally had the time & energy on my hands this weekend to work on this one and I had such a blast!! I hope Iâm not too rustyâand if I am, I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it regardless lol. Love you and thank you always for your patience. Happy Holidays!!
Sometimes, you thought you could tell your boyfriend was near, even before you heard his key in the lock.
It was something to do with his power, youâd always suspectedâas a support engineer unduly interested in other peopleâs capabilities, youâd spent hundreds of hours turning it over in your head. It was the unnatural immensity of other peopleâs powers, you thought, pulling and coiling just beneath the surface of Izukuâs skin. In close proximity, after prolonged use, its presence felt like a shiver up the back of your neck.
You felt the barest hint of it now, an unsettled feeling creeping into the marrow of your bones, and you sat up on the couch just as you heard the scratch of Izukuâs keys at the door.
One For All fit cleanly into Izukuâs own unwavering intensity somehow, like the last piece of his puzzle. Though one would certainly never think so looking at him as he spilled through the door, pink-cheeked from the cold, all bright eyes, sweetly angelic features, and a riot of wild green curls. He looked windswept from the biting winter breeze. He also looked too kind to be carrying the sort of power he didâtoo sweet and eager and lovely.
âLook what the wind blew in,â you grinned at him over the back of the couch, after assessing he was well. Your eyes tracked the sinuous movement of those broad shoulders as he yanked his mouthguard over his head, the flex and pull of his bicep as he hung it beside the door. He was moving without pause, no sign of injury or muscle strain , and his suit was intact. Ordinarily you didnât mind if there was a bit of shredding about the abs as long as he came back to you whole and hale, but in the winter you didnât like him wandering about risking the chance of frostbite.
Your heart fluttered when Izuku returned your smile with one of his own, so beautiful and bright, chasing away the cold heâd tracked in like a warm sliver of sun.
âLots of small, easy fights today?â You guessed, judging from his intact suit but clear whiff of power about him.
Izuku scrubbed a hand through that riot of curls, exposing the reddened shell of a cold ear. âI only had to use blackwhip a couple of times,â he said as he shouldered the door closed behind him, the muscle of his thighs flexing enticingly as he stepped out of his boots.
You gestured at the pot of soup youâd left warming on the stove, and the veritable pile of crusty bread beside it. Warmth and carbs, exactly what you would have wanted if you were a pro hero fresh off a long day of patrolling in the snow.
Izukuâs eyes fixed on it with an obliging amount of interest, and he almost tripped over himself in the genkan in his haste to get to the kitchen. âI love you,â you heard him say, muffled through a mouthful of bread, heard the clatter of the silverware drawer and a bowl being placed on the counter.
You smiled and turned back to the book in your lap, a particularly dry, knotty text on robotic imitation learning that had had your eyes drifting closed for the better part of an hour. It was the last youâd need to get through for your Wearable Technologies graduate course, and something you were deeply interested in incorporating into your design practice. You could train a piece of equipment on how an individual pro hero moved and deployed their quirk, and use predictive modeling to deploy assistance functionalities within milliseconds if you got it rightâsuch as immediate cooling in pro hero Shoutoâs temperature vest the moment he ignited an arm.
The implementation was going to be so coolâbut the theory was so mind numbing.
You felt the couch sink in beside your feet, and Izuku peered interestedly at the title in your lap.
âIntroduction to Robotic Imitation Learning,â he echoed, and you could hear the note of excitement in his voice. You suppressed a fond smile, knowing he was already thinking through the same applications you hadâhe was just as much of a nerd as you were.
âIntroduction to Snoozing and Napping,â you grumbled, turning back to your page. âThere are only so many words on the Kalman filter framework a brain can handle before the human mind shuts itself down.â
Izuku hummed in interest around a spoonful of soup, propping himself up against your leg. The exterior of his suit was still cool from the outside, and he groaned with relief from the warmth of your skin, even as you hissed at the chill.
You knew he wanted you to go on, so you generalized for him. âItâs an algorithm used for robotic motion planningâyou not only take measurements of the thing you want to model but you account for uncertainties to predict the probability that something is going to happen.â
Izuku nodded, taking another spoonful of soup, gesturing for you to go on.
You summoned up the willpower to explain joint probability distribution, pleased when Izuku easily managed to followâheâd always been a quick study, especially of anything that could be employed in the service of heroics. Youâd long thought if he hadn���t been gifted his quirk, he would be an insane support engineer.
He managed to finish his entire bowl of soup in the time it took you to explain, and housed another two slices of buttered bread with the sort of alacrity youâd only ever seen in pro heroes and professional athletes, making you smile while you spoke.
His spoon clinked softly against the edge of the bowl as he set them aside on the coffee table, and he hooked his chin over your knees as you finished explaining. In the setting sun from your windows he looked especially lovely, the kind, angular planes of his face brushed in gold, softening the spots of his freckles.
His eyes were especially bright, the way they always were when something in particular had caught his interest, and he smiled at you again over the tops of your knee caps.
âI admire how smart you are,â he told you, in the simple, straightforward way he always gave out compliments. It was like a shot to the heart every time, and you could feel your face warm with the praise even after years of receiving similar compliments.
You reflexively flapped a dismissive hand. âNot smart enough to have internalized it all! I have mostly been falling asleep to it,â you promised him.
He tilted his head, a green curl falling into his eyes. âI know you wonât have a problem when youâre awake.â
You shifted your legs with embarrassment, and a long fingered hand came up to cup the front of your thigh, as Izuku turned more fully towards you. You could feel the warm, hard planes of his chest against your shins, the line of his jumpsuitâs zipper pressing insistently just below your knee.
âGotta try to impress you somehow,â you joked, your skin prickling as Izukuâs fingers absent-mindedly drew a pattern across your thigh. You could feel the heat of his hand through the thin material of the leggings youâd lounged around in all day, the chill finally chased away from his skin now that heâd come inside and warmed up.
âYou do impress me,â he said in his soft, gentle tone. Which made your cheeks and nose burn hotter.
You knew you did, and the steady faith Izuku had in the people around him was one of your favorite things about him. It still made you feel like a middle schooler with a crush to think about, though, the intensity of your feelings too much for one body to handle.
âI will study hard to live up to your faith in me,â you promised, unable to help the goofy smile you knew you were giving him.
Izukuâs chin shifted against the tops of your knees, and he pressed his mouth to the knob of your left one, leaving a smiling kiss. âTell me more?â he asked, fingers still sliding softly over your thigh.
âIâll read it to you as I go, then,â you said, turning back to the brick of a tome, propping it up more firmly on your stomach as you adjusted yourself against the couch arm. Izukuâs eyes watched you over the top of the pages, that emerald gaze tracking your face closely.
ââThe algorithm works via a two-phase process: a prediction phase and an update phaseâ,â you began, trying to turn your attention away from Izuku and back to the text. ââIn the prediction phase, the Kalman filter produces estimates of the current state variables, including their uncertainties. Once the outcome of the next measurement (necessarily corrupted with some error, including random noise) is observed, these estimates are updated using a weighted average, with more weight given to estimates with greater certainty.ââ
Izukuâs long fingers traced firmer lines across your thighs, almost like he was taking notes. He layered another kiss along the line of your knee, eyes glittering at you as you read.
ââThe algorithm is recursive,ââ you continued, ââIt can operate in real time, using only the present input measurements and the state calculated previously and its uncertainty matrix; no additional past information is required.ââ
You almost jumped as Izukuâs mouth trailed lower, into the space between your knees, leaving kisses along your inner thigh. His fingers gently pulled one thigh away to make space for him in between, and you cleared your throat, trying to return to the text at hand.
ââOptimality of Kalman filtering assumes that errors have a normalâthat is, Gaussianâdistribution,ââ you read on. ââThe following assumptions are made about random processes: Physical random phenomena may be thought of as due to primary random sources exciting dynamic systems. The primary sources are assumed to be independent gaussian random processes with zero mean; the dynamic systems will be linear.ââ
Izuku let out a soft breath, insinuating himself further between your thighs. Your own breath came out a little uneven as he bent over you, mouth tracking dangerously towards the inseam of your leggings.
You paused, but Izuku fixed you with a look of his slightly-darkened eyes. âPleaseâkeep reading,â he said, his tone a little lower than it had been a minute ago.
You swallowed in shocked understanding, skin tingling. You felt yourself nod, as Izukuâs fingers strayed to the waist of your pants, dipping below the band.
You let him slowly peel your leggings down, your underwear with them, adjusting as needed to make it easy for him, even as you tried to return your attention to your textbook.
ââRegardless of Gaussianity, however, if the process and measurement covariances are known, then the Kalman filter is the best possible linear estimator in the minimum mean-square-error sense,ââ you quoted, nearly squeaking when Izuku pressed his mouth to your hip, his curls tickling the skin of your belly. His hands gripped either side of your thighs, palms square and rough against your skin, and you tried not to shiver with the feeling.
âUmââAlthough there may be better nonlinear estimatorsâ,â you said, then nearly jumped out of your skin when Izuku pressed his mouth to the core of you, only the strength of his grip stopping you from accidentally kicking him in surprise.
âOh my gâuh! ItâumââIt is a common misconception perpetuated in the literature that the Kalman filter cannot be rigorously applied unless all noise processes are assumed to be Gaussian,ââ you managed, before your cut off into a groan as Izuku layered a hot, sweet kiss over you, tongue dipping carefully between your folds. âAh-âIzukuââ
Izuku petted a thumb gently over the top of your thigh to show he was listening, even as he swiped his tongue over you again, a long, firm stroke that had your thighs flexing in his hold. He laved over your clit, sucking ever so slightly, and your grip almost tore the edge of your textbooks as it tightened.
âKeep going,â he urged briefly, then did it again, punching a groan out of you.
âExtensionsâohââExtensions and generalizations of the method have also been developed, such as the extended Kalman filter and the unscented Kalman filter which work on nonlinear systems,ââ you read on, voice shooting up nearly into a squeal when two of Izukuâs long, firm fingers pressed into you, as his mouth moved over you again.
âAh! Oh my godâtheâum, the basisâ-â you said, breath growing short. Izukuâs fingers unerringly found the spot inside you that made you twist in his grip with the ease of long practice, and his jaw worked as he kissed you so shockingly filthily. You could feel something already starting to build up behind your navel, a fluttery lightness, an insatiable insistence on more.
ââThe basis a hidden Markov modelâoh, fuckâsuch that the state space of the latent variables is continuous and all latent and observed variables haveâah!--Gaussian distributions,âââ you recited, your voice tripping up further into a register that sounded more like begging than reading.
Izukuâs fingers worked you, long and thick and perfect inside you, as his tongue drew unrelenting circles around your clit. Stars seemed to spark in your vision, and your eyes squeezed shut, losing your place on the page as your hips flexed into his face. You felt suddenly very floaty and lightheaded, and not at all in a position to keep going.
Still, you tried to refocus your attention.
ââKâKalman filtering has been used successfully inâohâmulti-sensor fusionâah, ah!--and distributed sensor networksâfuck, please, Izukuâto develop distributed or consensus Kalman f-filtering,ââ you said, your tone nearly a cry.
Izuku groaned softly, sucking gently as his fingers curled inside you. It made your veins spark under your skin, your legs shaking in Izukuâs hands. You abandoned your grip on your book to seize the arm of the couch, clawing desperately at the fabric.
âPlease, Izuku,â you cried, hips bucking towards his mouth.
The book tumbled off your stomach but you hardly noticed, gaze refocusing on the way his eyelashes fluttered as he licked you. His fingers played gently within you, a maddening press that was simultaneously too much and not enough, and his other hand came up to slide under your sweater, plucking gently at your nipple.
You lost yourself to the feelingâcaught between the mind-melting curl of his fingers, the delicate suction of his mouth, and the careful pinch of your nipple. A delicious heat curled through you, waves of unbearable pleasure, and you could hear yourself babbling nonsenseâgarbled syllables of Izukuâs name, and every entreaty you could think of, a hundred thousands mores and oh pleases.
Izuku abandoned your nipple to pull you more firmly against him with a strong arm curled under your thigh, pressing you even harder into his mouth.
You muffled a scream in the sleeve of your sweater as he sucked you harder, tongue laving over you in loving strokes. Only his terrible strength held you down as you writhed beneath him, and then his fingers twisted in a way that had your vision whiting outâand you were suddenly thrown out over the edge of your pleasure.
Izuku licked you through it as you squirmed and begged and cried out his name, your climax seeming to last for eons.
You were panting hard when you finally slumped into the cushions of your couch, the ceiling seeming to swim in and out of focus before your eyes. When you gained enough control of your body again you looked down at Izuku, finding him watching you with a satisfied, almost shy curl to his mouth.
âYouâre beautiful,â he told you, emerald gaze glittering with sincerity. âYouâre so smart.â
Impossibly you felt your heart swell with even more love for him, and you seized his shoulder, dragging him up over you so you could kiss his mouth. The taste of yourself on him was embarrassing yet thrilling, and you petted a pleased hand through Izukuâs wild mess of curls as you kissed him.
âWell you are amazing,â you told him, swiping a thumb over his cheek fondly, smoothing over his freckles. A gorgeous watercolor of pink washed over his cheeks and nose at the proclamation, and you could hear his fingers flex in the cushion beside your head.
The sight of him flushed and waiting over you like another small something inside of you, like a pilot light, and you let your mouth pull into a wry grin.
âI hope you know I learned nothing though,â you said casually, your plan for your next steps already forming in your head. You let a hand trail carefully down Izukuâs flank, tracking towards his waist. âI think maybe I might need a few rounds for it to really sink in.â
Izukuâs ears went red against the green of his hair, and you felt your smile widen. âMaybe you could read it to me this time?â you asked, guiding him to roll under you, retrieving your book from the floor as you did so.
You settled yourself on the tops of Izukuâs thighs, feeling the hard press of him against your core, as you placed your textbook into his waiting hands.
Izukuâs answering smile was all the permission you needed. You directed him to start from the beginning of the chapter, and he did so in that soft, lilting tone of his you so loved. And then your fingers trailed up to the zipper at his collar.
It was time to return the favorâwholeheartedly.
REFERENCES: Kalman Filtering (Wikipedia) I took the passages our Reader recited from here because I do not actually understand Kalman filtering at all and could not organically come up with feasible text for her to read through. Sorry in advance to the author of this page lol.
#deku x reader#izuku x reader#midoriya x reader#midoriya izuku x reader#izuku midoria x reader#izuku midoriya x you#deku x y/n#bnha x reader#fics for gaza#izuku x you
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
BIRD DOG - JAILBIRD PART TWO
Part One
Description: Simonâs determined to retrieve his jailbird.
Word count: 4.5k
TW: Parolee! Reader (guys weâve graduated to parole), stalking, reader is kept as vague as possible, sexual favors in exchange for money, groping, Ghost is a creep (graduated from perv lmao), p in v, oral (m! receiving), p in v, mention of breeding kink, creampie, possessiveness, dub-con, somewhat edited.
Notes: Itâs finally done! This took longer than I anticipated since I deviated from the OG plan and was a bit of a stinker to write but it's done. I hope everyone enjoys it! Iâve absolutely loved reading all the comments, asks, and reblogs. Such positive feedback is what led me to posting part two honestly. I'm currently working on the last part of JB so expect that soonđ. Feedback is always appreciated but never expected. Let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy :)
Also I've never done a tag list before so apologies if it didn't work or I missed anyoneđ. Please let me know if the link to part one doesn't work either, this is the first time I'm using Tumblr on my laptop I usually use my phone.
You got used to the slight tremor in your hands, the parting kiss alcoholism left with you, but the violent shaking as you attempted to click the lock of the hotel door closed was difficult for even you to handle. You longed to feel that familiar burn of self-destruction but the only place that would have you end up is back in prison. Parole violation. It was too soon to resort to such dramatic measures, instead you quietly paced your small room, double checking that you clicked the deadbolt shut, closing the curtains as tight as they could go, anything to try and soothe your rising anxiety.
Talking yourself away from the edge again and again until you could finally sit down on the stiff mattress. Every time you managed to calm your heart you blinked and saw that room again. You saw those pictures again.
He-Simon.
You swallowed, forcing yourself to take deep, slow, breaths.Â
After sleeping together, after discovering the skeleton in his closet, you swallowed the bile in your throat and kissed his jaw. He made dinner which you smiled over and forced into your mouth, every bite downed with a sip of water. The two of you went to bed, your eyes darting to that door, now left open enough you could see a glimpse of his homemade wallpaper. He kept an arm draped over you and fell asleep.Â
Then you left.
Barefoot, not knowing where your shoes had been placed in your need to-
Jesus Christ you had slept with the man.
You barely made it to the bathroom, puking mostly water and yellowed acid up. It made your eyes water and nose run, blowing it in a piece of toilet paper, flushing it down. There was little comfort to be found in the distance you put between you and him.Â
Going on foot wasnât the brightest idea, but risking stealing Simonâs car and having him call the cops on you was foolish even for you. That and you didnât want the man any angrier at you than you expected he was going to be. You only got so far before you found yourself on the wrong side of town. You had never been in the area before, but you knew the type. Women posted on every corner, bars on the windows, broken glass and sticky residue staining the sidewalks. It didnât take you long to find the kind of man you needed. Trading a handjob for a bus fare, a blowjob for a new pair of shoes, and a pitiful two minutes of dry thrusting for a hotel room.Â
Back to your ways. Different city, different time, same person. A bird incapable of changing its tune.
You needed a real job. A record stood in your way of that, but surely there had to be something, anything, that would pay enough for you to keep a roof over your head without having to sell more of yourself.Â
You needed a job, but you needed space more. As much as you could get. Immigration was out, no one wanted to host a felon, and you were limited to a certain area before your parole officer got testy with you. Fuck. A big cage, thatâs what you were trapped in. One you could never get free from.
Your family. Your past. Your cell. Your city. Your whole fucking life, one cage after another. Freedom a concept rather than a reality. Simon could use it against you. He knew of your limits, hell, you fucking told him yourself over a phone call before you got released. Outlined every fucking sentence of where you could and couldnât go. He knew all of it.
Taking another deep breath you forced your body to lie on the bed, you needed to calm down. You needed to think clearly and come up with a plan. Simon was still asleep in bed, he didnât know where you were, you were fine.Â
You were fine.
A good nightâs sleep. Thatâs what you needed. Not likely with how wound tight you were. But you had to try. Anything to escape the panic squeezing your lungs.
___
It took four hours of staring blankly at a dark ceiling, on the edge of a panic attack the entire time, before your body gave in and let you sleep. It was light, but it was enough of a break in your consciousness. The sun was what woke you, shining on your eyes and causing you to squint. Your anxiety a gentle heart palpitation rather than the full blown panic it was last night, exhaustion dulling its edge.Â
The first thing you did was go business to business looking for a place that was hiring. Most required a resume, those you didnât even give a second glance (as they no doubt did background checks). It took all of the day before you found a shitty pub that only asked if you were old enough to drink. With a nod of your head an apron was shoved into your hands, and you were bussing for your first shift.Â
The owner, a balding man who smelled like cigarettes and wore a sweat-stained wife beater, paid you cash. Enough that you were able to buy another night to cover your hotel room and not much else. You walked back to your temporary home, eyes darting to every tall man who crossed the street. For once, you were grateful Simon was such a large man. It would make him easier to spot in a crowd, the orange of a tigerâs fur stark against a green jungle.
When you returned back to your room, it was easy to explain the movement of your things. Hotels had housekeepers. You wouldnât have even noticed it if it werenât for your paranoid state. It wasnât until you went to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grease and grime of the pub, that you noticed a small picture sitting face-down on the bathroom counter. Flipping it over revealed you. You, asleep in your shitty hotel bed, close-up, taken from inside.Â
You were barely able to flip the toilet lid up before you lost your stomach contents. Vile burning the back of your throat was nothing in comparison to the panic that burned through your veins.
He was inside your hotel room. He was inside your hotel room last night with you.Â
You barely managed to stand, legs shaking, leaving the bathroom you noticed other signs of his arrival. Dirty tracks that were much too large. The blinds wide-open even though you were sure you closed them before you went to sleep. A single dog tag resting underneath your pillow. Itâs ownerâs name mocking you.
Riley.
___
He left you more presents. Vestiges of him ever present in your life. It didnât matter where you went, how many hotels you hopped, how many jobs you changed, he always found you. Truthfully, the both of you knew this song and dance could only go on for so long. You were low on cash and stuck orbiting around the same small area. Days bled into weeks bled into months. Fear gave way to anger. Anger that he wouldnât leave you alone. Anger that he wouldnât let you delude yourself into thinking you had found a safe space that he could not intrude on.
On your nth hotel, you decided you were staying. Simon be damned. He obviously had no intentions of killing you just yet, content in tormentation. That and there were only so many jobs willing to pay under-the-table. You needed to save up enough cash to prove that you had a steady place to live, a recommendation from your parole officer. This flightiness made the law suspicious at best and nervous at worst.Â
You found your way back to the pub, who upgraded you to server. On the wrong side of town its patrons werenât the best. But they tipped decent enough and if they got too handsy the owner always stepped in. A few pinches on the ass were worth a steady income. Youâve given a lot more of yourself for less.
Perhaps, that was your mistake, you got too comfortable with a wild animal. So sure that your exotic pet would not bite.
The first time you saw him, you thought it was a mistake. Despite his size Simon was able to go about your life as he pleased without you catching even a glimpse of him. Hell, you knew he could stalk you without you being aware of him at all (your prison stint was proof enough of that), he just chose not to. You shouldnât have been surprised that his behavior would escalate.Â
You were standing, dead on your feet after your shift working on three hours of sleep, waiting for the bus. And there he was. Across the street, large frame leaning against a wall, arms crossed. When you did a double glance, you were able to make out the tell-tale scars across his face. Then the bus came. It was a coin toss, boarding the bus. A part of you wanted to flee, figuring he could easily cross the street and board the same bus as you, but the alternative was worse. Let it pass and walk home alone. In the dark. With a predator at your heels.Â
No.
Better to have people around you. Safety in numbers and all that.
The next day, he did it again. And again. And again. Each time coming closer and closer. Until one day you saw his large frame coming up the steps of the bus. You practically vibrated from anxiety in your seat, unshed tears blurring your vision as you stared straight ahead. The black blur of his jacket, the soft squeak of his boots as he moved closer and closer, until he took the seat right behind you.
You didnât move. Frozen. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,
Fright.
Fright.
Fright.Â
Until the bus moved and the decision was made for you. Only you couldnât convince your muscles to move, stuck staring dead ahead. Willing the bus driving to glance in the mirror back at you. Willing the other passengers to notice how close the man behind you was sitting (close enough to feel his breath against your ear, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath). But this was the last bus and everyone was too tired to notice. A herd of diurnal prey vs a nocturnal predator. It was clear who had the advantage.
You missed your stop. And the one after that. It wasnât until you felt a violent shake on your shoulder that you jolted out of your trance, eyes darting up⌠to the bus driver.Â
âLasâ stop miss. Gottaâ get off.â His voice firm. How long had he been calling out to you?
Giving a jerky nod you looked behind you, but Simon was gone.
___
It didn't stop there. Not that you expected it would, but fucking forgive you for having a little hope in life. Simon took to following a few steps behind you wherever you went. Sitting behind you on the bus. Sitting in the back of the pub, nursing beer after beer. Sometimes he had another man with him. But mostly he was alone. His eyes never left you. For weeks it went on. For weeks you felt his constant presence.Â
The presents never stopped either. Photos of you, gifts for you (lingerie and cigarettes, the same shade of nail polish he gave you while you were in prison), things of his. He never relented. You never shook that feeling of being watched. You never could get rid of that pit of anxiety in your stomach. Exhaustion was starting to settle heavy in your bones. Give up. Give in. Give yourself to him.Â
The temptation was intense. You just wanted to be done with it all. Let him do what he wanted with you. At this point, even death would be better than another day of constant anxiety. (Pursuit predator exhausting his prey, closing in).Â
And then he was gone.
His absence was glaringly obvious on the first day, enough so that you thought for sure that you were going to die soon. Simon had reached some kind of breaking point. But you didnât. And you didnât see Simon.
There were no presents left for you. No signs of his stalking. No evidence that he was ever in your life at all. It was such a sudden and stark change that if it werenât for his dog tag you would have thought you dreamed the whole thing. But he was gone.Â
A day passed.
Then another.
And another.
The knot in your stomach slowly unworked itself. The tension ever present in your shoulders finally loosened. Weeks passed by. Then months. A part of you still worried. In prison there were times where Simon would go silent for months, but he always came back. And he always made sure to make up for lost times. More gifts, more phone calls, longer visits. It seemed that your anxiety was slowly chipped away, yet it was also slowly building itself back up again.Â
But Simon stayed gone. More importantly, a date had been set for you to become a truly free woman. No parole. No restrictions. A chance to leave the country. A chance to truly be free.
A chance to slip away from Simon.
___
When a police officer knocked on your door, you had to fight back the panic.
You havenât done anything wrong.Â
It wasnât until you were sitting across from your lawyer did you truly began to realize the situation you were in. His words sounded so far away, so garbled. As if you were trapped underwater, in a fishbowl, letting the world happen around you as you tapped at the glass.
â...Do you understand the situation youâre in?...Enough drugs to get an intent to distributeâŚa passportâŚtickets to another countryâŚâ
How did you get here?
âAre you listening to me?â
You snapped back to reality, the familiar cold cuffs biting into your wrists.
âDo they have to keep these on me?â
Your lawyer let out a sigh. âDonât worry about the damn cuffs right now.â
Easy for him to say, he wasnât the one wearing the damn cuffs.
âTheyâre distracting.âÂ
He ignored you. âThey have you on video buying a plane ticket out of the country.â
You nodded. He didnât mention the fact that your parole wouldâve been up by then. Nothing wrong. You didnât do anything wrong.
âThey found enough cocaine in your hotel room to get intent to sell. With the plane ticket, and your erratic behavior after you got out of prison, things donât look good for you.â
âItâs not mine I-â Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat, talking so quietly, trying to hold back tears. âI swear.â
Your lawyer didnât look convinced. âThat defense wonât hold up in court.â
He ran his hands through his hair. âLook, I was able to cut a deal for you. Itâs better than prison. Theyâll tag you-â
Dog tags flickered in your mind. âHuh?â
âHouse arrest.â
âOh.â
âYou wonât be able to use a hotel, youâll have to go back to the original residence you reported when you got out of prison.â
"What?â Alarm bells rang through your sluggish thoughts.
Your lawyer sick of you interrupting him, bulldozed on. âListen to me. I donât know why theyâre offering this to you, but you wonât get a second chance at this. Confess your crime. Theyâll confine you to your house for three years and serve parole in tandem. Youâll only serve a year of parole once youâre out.â
Three years. Three years stuck at Simonâs house. Three years with Simon.
âWhat happens if I donât take it.â
âYouâll go back to prison. Given youâve already been, they'll try for maximum. You could be looking at twenty years, ten if youâre lucky. Life on parole.â
Walk into the tigerâs den or let him continue the chase.
How did you get here?
___
They put the ankle monitor on at Simonâs house, now your house you suppose. A part of you had wanted to tell them to take you back to prison instead. But you knew the reality of your situation. Simon would just do the same thing he did before. Get videos of you, pictures of you, he could still watch you in your cell. He would still visit you. And thatâs just what he would do while you were in prison, what would happen when you were released again? You were never going to be able to escape him. At least this way you would be more comfortable.
A gilded cage.
Simon talked to the officers, but he seemed to make even them nervous, as they all but ran out of the house. You watched as they shut the door behind them, alone in a room with Simon for the first time in a long time.
How did you get here?
Simon put his hand on the back of your neck, before gliding it upwards jerking your head back. Your eyes met his, and he was smiling.
âHello, bird.â
âSimon.â
He shuddered when you called his name.
âMissed you.â
âDonât know how, you never left me.â
He grinned, boyish and proud of himself, âNever.â
Simon kissed you then, feeling far more familiar than he shouldâve for a man youâve only had sex with once. You turned, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in your neck, Simonâs hand stayed instead wrapping around your throat. He gave an experimental squeeze, making you whimper, before he released you.
âGonnaâ be goodâ fer me?â He rasped.
You thought about it for a moment, and he let you, time frozen mid-air. But you had been running for so long. And you were so tired. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,
Surrender.
You had to stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his, white flag given. Thatâs all it took for the dam to break. Simon let out a growl and slammed you into the nearest wall, cradling your head so it didnât bang against the wall with the force. His body caged you in as he deepened the kiss. You had forgotten just how intense it was to be so close to Simon.
He filled your senses. You breathed him in, you tasted him, you heard his soft grunts against your lips, felt the rough edge of his jeans as he ground himself against you, watched as his blonde eyelashes fluttered open until he was staring at you. Always watching. Even in these moments.Â
Simonâs hand gripped your ass, grinding you harder against him, moaning from the friction.
âYou oweâ me somethinâ birdie. Made your fiance wait so long. Such a fuckinâ tease.â He growled in your ear before fisting your shirt in two hands, ripping it with ease. Hands squeezing your bare tits so tight you expected to find bruises tomorrow.
Confusion knitted your brows together before he shoved you to your knees and you came face to face with his crotch.
How did you get here?
Your hands shook as you undid the button on his jeans, the zipper loud in between Simon and your panting. He helped you pull his jeans down his thighs, his cock dropping out, hard and angry.
Fuck.
You had forgotten just how big the man was down below. Time distorting the memory enough you had convinced yourself that he was average and you were just desperate that night. You were wrong of course. The man was hung as a fucking horse.
It had been awhile since you gave a blowjob. The steady pay the pub provided, the tips you made, pawning a few of Simonâs gifts and you had earned enough to not necessitate them. Not that it would help in this situation. Simon was big enough that all your previous tricks were rather useless. You werenât even sure if you could open your mouth wide enough to take him, let alone take him down your throat. Your poor poor throat.
Tentatively, you leaned forward and gave the head a gentle kiss, glancing up and meeting Simonâs eyes. Your gaze left his, feeling suddenly shy despite the situation you were in. Pre dribbled and you used the chance to rub it along his sensitive head with your thumb. You gathered as much spit on your tongue licking the underside of his cock, pushing it all the way up until it pressed against his stomach. He groaned, hand resting on the back of your head.Â
With his dick out of the way, you used your other hand to caress his balls before pressing soft kisses to them. You replaced your hand with your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue, using your hands to work his cock while you gave your attention elsewhere. His balls were much easier to fit in your mouth, but you could only delay the inevitable so long.
You pulled away fully, his cock falling under the weight of itself. The easy part done, now it was time for the hard part. Your gag reflex was not going to be happy. Bracing your hands against his thick thighs, feeling his muscles flex underneath your fingertips, you pressed your lips against the tip of his cock again, parting the seam of your mouth and letting him slowly slip in. Your tongue lying flat as he invaded your mouth.
Inch by overwhelming inch.
Before you had thought he was overwhelming, it was nowhere near as overwhelming as having his dick in your mouth. Gone were the lingering scents of tobacco and liquor. The outside world stripped away until just the man was left. Until only Simonâs musk filled your nose, wrinkling it as you took him a little deeper. Your jaw already ached from how wide you were stretching it.
Tired of your pace, Simon began to use your head as leverage as he pushed you further down, nails pressing crescents into his skin as you forced your body to relax. You quickly moved your hands back to the base of his length, stopping him from pushing you any further. Twisting your wrists to placate him enough to let you keep them there. Sucking to increase the pressure.
Simon moaned, hands going from gripping your head, to resting. Letting you work.
You took a deep breath through your nose as you began to work him in earnest. Swirling your tongue over the head of his cocked you began to bob faster and faster, unable to stop the lewd gurgling noises as the back of him hit your throat. His hands were at your head again, pushing himself further down your throat and back again. Setting his pace.
This wasnât a blowjob he was fucking your throat. Using you. His dick twitched in his mouth before he pulled out, as you took in huge gulps of breath. Body hunching in on itself. You felt vulnerable like this. Kneeling in front of him, the top half of you completely nude.
You didnât get much time to collect yourself before you were pulled to your feet, turned so that your back was pressed against his front, hands bracing against the wall.Â
Simon kissed your neck, hooking his hands on your pants and jerking them down. They caught on your ankle monitor but he just tore them off, seams ripping. Your underwear was torn with a satisfying rip, before you felt the tip of his bare cock pressing against your hole. He thrusted against your slit, gathering your own slick before he reached a hand down, dragging his dick back before it caught on your hole.
You couldnât help but whine at the stretch of him, un-prepped. He didnât stop until his hips met yours, large hands bruising. He paused, leaning his weight onto you, sighing. As if being buried to the hilt in your cunt was the reprieve he had been looking for all his life.
âMissed herâ too. Did she misâ me?â His voice was hoarse against your ear.
âHuh?â
He removed one hand from your hip bringing it to your clit, brushing one large knuckle against it, causing your knees to buckle. Simon chuckled, easily holding your weight against him.
âDonâ worry, wonâ ever leave you for this long again Birdie.â
Simon licked your cheek causing you to try and jerk away from him, before the rough pad of his finger began to circle your clit, your pussy clenching around him almost painfully, grinding his hips into yours as if trying to fuck you deeper somehow. He pulled out before snapping into you. Again and again, hand never leaving your clit.
âSimon! Simon please! Donât stop!â You couldnât help but cry, bucking back against him as you felt an orgasm build quickly, faster than one had ever built before.
He growled into your ear. âAinât ever gonna run again Bird.â
You nodded your head, trying to do everything in your power to appease him to keep doing what he was doing. To keep thrusting. To keep his hand on your clit. To lick you again. Anything. Everything. You wanted him to consume you wholly.
âAinât gonna run noâ more. Ainât gonna leave the house till everyonâ knows youâre mine.â
His hand left your clit, causing you to whine in protest, cradling your stomach.Â
âSay it. Tell the whole fuckinâ world who you belong too.â
âYou Simon! YoU! Simon! Simon pleaseâŚplea-â You were babbling, until finally his hand went back to your clit.
âDonât forget it.â
You came, cunt desperately clutching his cock, squealing as Simon didnât even slow his thrusts. He pushed you through one orgasm onto the edge of overstimulation as he finally came with a grunt inside of you. He didnât pull out, keeping his seed nuzzled safely near your womb.
You slumped against his arms, panting softly as the reality of your situation began to wash over you, naked except for the ankle monitor.
How did you get here?
It didnât matter, because all roads led to Simon.
Tag list: @Sweetlike-sugarplum, @thatpersonamedrook, @aphinthestars, @misscaller06, @shushyoudontknowme, @youknowits-derea, @succubusvalentine, @sundaescreamcheese
#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#Simon is such a meanie#He's gonna give reader an ulcer fr
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
my angel baby
(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)
[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]
(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )
(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)
(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)
(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so đ )
You made it to heaven, lucky you.
Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,
all your sacrifices.
You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.
You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.
You wonder if it is in hell too.
'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.
You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.
Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.
What-- no wait-
You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.
Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.
Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?
_____ Altruist is who you a---
"HELLO??"
You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.
You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.
How peculiar.
Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.
"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.
"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"
She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"
Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.
"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.
The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.
"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"
And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.
"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.
"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..
Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.
"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.
Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.
The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.
The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.
Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.
"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.
"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.
"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.
The man that brought you up here in the first place.
The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.
"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"
The voice, the radio static over it, his name.
It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.
Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.
------------------------------------------------------------------
"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.
For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.
You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.
Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.
You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.
The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.
Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.
You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.
With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.
Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.
The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.
Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.
Oh-- wait.
That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.
It was you.
His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.
For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.
His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.
He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.
He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.
"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.
Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.
"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.
Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.
Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."
Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.
And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.
He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.
Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.
Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.
You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.
You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.
Your father wanted to talk to you.
Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.
His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.
"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.
The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.
He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."
Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.
You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.
"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.
"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."
Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.
Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.
With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.
(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)
#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel spoilers#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#hazbin spoilers#alastor altruist#alastor the radio demon#radio demon#hellaverse#alastor x reader platonic#alastor platonic#hazbin platonic#sera hazbin hotel#emily hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#hazbin charlie#vaggie
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
WHEN GOSSIP MEETS LOVE â í¨ęť
pairing á° sunghoon x fem!reader â featuring.. Jake (as jaeyun) & Riki | word count: 6.6k+
â ⌠warnings & genre âş office romance, boss! sunghoon, fluff, tiny angst, make-outs, getting drunk, isolation, passing out, reader is blunt, sunghoon is arrogant at times.
synopsis â after being saved by Sunghoon on your first week of the job, you have had a blatant crush on him to the point the whole office knows. Later he learned of your interest, usually he wouldnât care but why wont you make a move?
lee's âËâš á° comment âso this turned out way longer than expected⌠PLEASE READ THE BONUS ITS SO CUTEâ Also I love me a semi arrogant man who gets put in his place đ
Today was supposed to be just another day at the office. The same mind-numbing tasks, the same stale air, the same routine. The only thing that ever really changed around here was the gossip, and honestly, you kind of lived for it.
As you strolled down the hallway with a stack of papers in hand, you noticed your coworkers gathered in a huddle, whispering excitedly. Curiosity piqued, and you set the papers down on a nearby desk and wandered over.
âWhatâs going on?â you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
The group turned to you, immediately shushing you before gesturing toward the glass-walled conference room. âLook,â one of them whispered, pointing.
You followed their gaze to the meeting in progressâspecifically, to the group of men seated at the table. Raising a brow, you asked, âSo⌠weâre just staring at men now?â
One of the girls grinned, barely able to contain her excitement. âNot just men. They just hired Mr. Kim Sunoo. Isnât he dreamy? Heâs totally my type.â
Another chimed in, dramatically clutching her chest. âWhat I wouldnât give to get a piece of Mr. Lee. Ugh, itâs unfair how perfect he is.â
You stood there, unimpressed, letting your eyes wander to the man sitting at the end of the table.
âWhat about you, Y/N?â one of them asked, nudging you with her elbow. âAnyone in there catch your eye?â
Before you could answer, a sharp cough sounded behind you, making the entire group freeze.
âDo you ladies have no shame?â Jaeyun drawled, raising an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee.
âJesus, Mr. Sim, would it kill you to mind your own business?â one of the girls snapped, rolling her eyes.
Jaeyun chuckled. âAnd miss out on this? Never. Besides, everyone knows who Y/Nâs been crushing on.â
You immediately stiffened, while the other two girls exchanged looks. Their eyes darted to where you were staringâat him.
âMr. Park?â
âNo way! Heâs such an asshole.â
âYou could do so much better.â
Their words blurred into background noise as you kept your gaze locked on Park Sunghoon, your so-called âcrush.â But they didnât get it. They couldnât possibly understand. To them, he was cold and aloof���practically a robot. But to you? He was⌠interesting.
You didnât always feel that way. When you started at the company a year ago, you werenât interested in menâor dating at all. You were laser-focused on your career, and determined to climb the corporate ladder. Then you met him.
It all started your first week on the job. The office wasnât the soul-crushing nightmare youâd seen in movies. Your little corner office was cozy, and your workload was manageable. Things were going smoothlyâuntil they werenât.
Some of the senior employees, jealous of your early success, had sabotaged your presentation for an important meeting. As you stood in front of the board fumbling through the slides, your confidence crumbled. Your hands shook, your throat felt dry, and your face burned with humiliation. Then, out of nowhere, he walked in.
Park Sunghoon strode up to your computer with an air of calm authority, plugging in a USB without a word. The correct presentation appeared on the screen, and you blinked in disbelief.
The head of the board narrowed his eyes. âMr. Park, care to explain your tardiness?â
âI apologize,â Sunghoon said smoothly. âBut I caught some employees tampering with Ms. Y/Nâs presentation. I thought it necessary to intervene.â
The board members exchanged glances before nodding, motioning for you to continue. Your real presentation went off without a hitch, earning praise from the directors. But all you could think about was the man who had saved you from disaster.
After the meeting, you waited outside the conference room, nervously clutching your notes. As soon as Sunghoon stepped out, you followed him, finally mustering the courage to tap him on the shoulder.
âExcuse me, Mr. Park?â
He turned, his expression blank but expectant. âYes?â
âI just⌠wanted to thank you for what you did back there,â you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.
His reply was cold and clipped. âI didnât do it for you. I did it because I donât tolerate workplace sabotage. Donât expect me to save you again.â
Then he walked away, leaving you speechless.
A normal person mightâve been offended. Maybe even angry. But you? You were utterly smitten. How many men these days are that serious and passionate about their work? And letâs be honestâhow many of them looked like that?
From that moment on, Park Sunghoon was your ideal man: hardworking, principled, and impossibly handsome. Sure, the whole office thought you were crazy for crushing on him, but they didnât see what you see.
And as you stood there, watching him from across the room, you couldnât help but wonder what he else he had underneath that surface.
A week after that little encounter with your coworkers, fate seemed to step in when you were assigned to lead a projectâwith none other than Mr. Park as your supervisor. Coincidence? You didnât think so.
Now, as you sat in his office, he was going on about the plans and blueprints for the project. But you? You werenât paying much attention. Your chin rested on your hands as you stared at him, absolutely transfixed.
âThe peak must be atâMs. Y/N, are you even listening?â
You blinked, snapping out of your trance. âOf course I am,â you replied with a bright, innocent smile.
He hummed, unconvinced. âAlright, then. How do you feel about placing it on Downtown Avenue?â
You nodded immediately. âSounds great.â
His sharp gaze bore into you as he placed his pen down. âInteresting answer,â he mused, leaning forward until your faces were so close they nearly touched. âI never mentioned Downtown Avenue.â
Your eyes widened, and you quickly leaned back in your chair, flustered. Heat rose to your cheeks as you scrambled to regain composure. âIâIâm sorry, Mr. Park. Please continue. Iâm listening now.â
He didnât look convinced but leaned back into his chair, eyes narrowing slightly. âAlright.â
For all his calm professionalism, Sunghoon couldnât quite figure you out. Sure, you were talentedâhe couldnât deny that. But you were also incredibly dishonest, something heâd picked up on a month ago.
From the moment you first met, he could feel your gaze on him, as if you had a personal vendetta. He figured you hated him for how blunt heâd been during that initial meeting. But as time passed, he realized it was the exact opposite.
The revelation had come during a lunch break with the other department heads.
âWhat about you, Mr. Park?â one of them asked, smirking. âIs there a special lady waiting for you at home?â
Sunghoon raised a brow, finishing a bite of his food before setting his utensils down. âNo, I live alone.â
The man hummed, and the others chuckled knowingly. Then, one of them leaned forward. âWhat about Ms. Y/N?â
At that, Sunghoon froze. âExcuse me?â he asked, voice cold.
The man chuckled nervously, straightening up. âWell, everyone knows how much sheâs into you. Why donât you give her a chance?â
The words threw Sunghoon off completely. âHow much sheâs into me?â he repeated, utterly confused. âWhy would she be?â
For the first time in a long while, Sunghoon felt genuinely flustered. The idea that you might like him had never crossed his mind. And once the seed was planted, he couldnât stop thinking about it.
His first instinct was to let you down easy. Heâd been pursued before and thought it best to nip things in the bud. But when it came to you, things didnât go as planned. Every time he tried to confront you, the words just wouldnât come out.
In his frustration, he turned to Jaeyun, the office gossip king.
âMr. Sim,â Sunghoon began, his voice strained. âJust tell me already.â
Jaeyun turned away, arms crossed. âIâm not spilling Y/Nâs secrets.â
Sunghoonâs patience was wearing thin. âIâll give you my year-end bonus.â
Jaeyunâs head whipped around, a sly grin spreading across his face. âDeal. Yes, sheâs interested in you, but not enough to ask you out.â
Sunghoon raised a brow. âWhat do you mean, ânot enoughâ? Are you saying Iâm not worth asking out?â
Jaeyun held his hands up defensively. âNo, no, sheâs just focused on her career right now. Donât take it personally.â
But Sunghoon did take it personally. The idea of someone liking him and not acting on it? It didnât sit well with him. His pride was bruised.
From then on, he started coaxing you, trying to provoke you into asking him out. At office dinners, heâd sit near you, only for you to switch tables. In meetings, you avoided eye contact as if it were a matter of life and death. It was infuriating.
And now, as he explained the project, you sat across from him, staring at him like he was the center of your universe. He couldnât take it anymore.
âMs. Y/N,â he said abruptly.
âHm?â you hummed, snapping back to attention.
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes scrutinizing you. âHave you heard the latest office gossip?â
You tilted your head, confused. âI donât think so, sir. But what does thatââ
âI heard the women in the office are all over our new hire, Mr. Kim,â he interrupted. âAre you one of them?â
Your brow furrowed, suspicious of his sudden interest. âWell, I havenât had the chance to speak to Mr. Kim yet, soââ
âOh, for Godâs sake,â he groaned, rubbing his temples. âI know youâre interested in me.â
Your eyes widened at his bluntness, but instead of denying it, you relaxed. âYes, thatâs right.â
His jaw tightened. âThen why havenât you said anything? You lack initiativeââ
You cut him off, staring at him dead in the eye. âAre you interested in me, Mr. Park?â
The question caught him off guard. His ears turned red as he replied, âNo, Iâm not.â
âThen why would I ask you out?â you shot back, your tone calm and collected.
He was stunned into silence. Since when did you have the upper hand in this conversation?
âBecause it would allow you to get over me quicker,â he said, straightening his tie.
You stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter.
âWhatâs so funny?â he demanded, his pride wounded.
âYou think too highly of yourself, Mr. Park,â you said, standing up. âDid you think Iâd beg for you? My work is more important than any manâeven you.â
With that, you turned and walked out of his office, leaving him frozen in place.
For the first time, Park Sunghoon felt like heâd underestimated someone. But one thing was certain: he wasnât going to let you off that easily.
In the days following your conversation with Sunghoon, you noticed a subtle shift in his behavior. The once-distant supervisor now seemed to find reasons to linger near your workspace, his presence a constant, albeit silent, companion. It was almost endearing, watching him struggle with the unfamiliar territory of being put in his place.
Today, his strategy appeared to involve hovering nearby, perhaps hoping youâd initiate a conversation. His restlessness was overwhelming. Should he apologize? But that would require him to make the first move, a notion that likely clashed with his pride.
Seeking guidance, Sunghoon found himself seated across from Jaeyun at an upscale restaurantâa setting procured through the promise of an expensive dinner. Jaeyun, the holder of all office gossip, knew how to drive a bargain.
âAlright, talk. Has she mentioned anything?â Sunghoon inquired, his impatience barely concealed.
Jaeyun took a deliberate sip of his wine before responding. âNope, not a word.â
Sunghoonâs frustration was evident. âNothing? Are you sure?â
Jaeyun nodded, his gaze drifting to the gorgeous night view outside. âI swear. I mean, sheâs been busy lately. Extremely busy.â
Sunghoonâs curiosity was piqued. âExplain, Mr. Sim.â
âPlease call me Jaeyun, weâre not at work.â Jaeyun said.
Sunghoon gulped never being informal before. âOkayâŚ. Jaeyunâ please elaborate.â
Setting his utensils down, Jaeyun sighed. âWell, besides the project you two are working on, she also has financial responsibilities concerning her family, especially her younger brother.â
Sunghoon listened intently.
âSheâs been working overtime to gather extra funds for his tuition. I heard heâs exceptionally talented in the entertainment field, but their family isnât wealthy enough to cover the expenses.â
Sunghoon absorbed the information, No he didnât understand. Sunghoon has been fortunate his whole life but he was open to learning. He sat there contemplating his next move.
Jaeyunâs voice broke through his thoughts. âWhatâs all this for anyway? Do you like her?â
Sunghoon scoffed. âWhy would you think that?â
Jaeyun smirked. âWho goes this far to reject a woman?â
Sunghoon pondered the remark. Perhaps you had made more of an impression on him than he cared to admit. Interest? Maybe.
âOkay, how should I approach this? What does she like? Purses? Jewelry?â
Jaeyun chuckled. âWait, youâre serious? Oh man, you really have no ideaâŚâ
Sunghoon remained silent, a faint blush coloring his ears and face.
âJust be normal, Show her you care.â Jaeyun observed Sunghoonâs puzzled expression. âIf you really need to buy her something, get her some food. She enjoys a good meal.â
Now that was something Sunghoon could manage. If he was going to reach out to you, a thoughtful gesture like sharing a meal might be the perfect starting point.
Sunghoon wanted to do something nice for you. A nice thought quickly turned into an overbearing gesture.
One day, you found a paper bag in your office. Inside were sweets from the bakery just a few minutes away from the building. Even though they werenât your favorite, you appreciated the gesture and ate them. Sunghoon saw you smile through your office blinds a safe distance away and felt happy. He quickly looked around to make sure no one noticed and then walked away.
After that, he started leaving more and more food in your office. It became overwhelming. Today, you walked in and saw so much food that it startled you. You had figured out it was Sunghoon; he wasnât very sneaky, especially after you caught him leaving your office last week.
This was too much. How could you eat all this? You sighed, closed your office door, and walked to Sunghoonâs office. You knocked.
âCome in,â he said.
You entered, giving him a sharp look. He stood up, adjusting his suit.
âMs. Y/N?â he asked, looking confused.
âMr. Park, how much longer are you going to leave all that food in my office?â
He blinked. âWhat do you mean?â
You crossed your arms. âDid you really think I could eat all that in one sitting?â
He gulped, running a hand through his hair.
âAnd do you even know what foods I like? What if I was allergic to some of them?â
He scoffed walking over to you slowly. âWhat do you like then? What are you allergic to?â He was now very close.
âCanât hate a man you havenât given a chance, donât you think?â
Your face turned red. You were stunned by his bluntness. âWhat are you talking about?â
âWhat are you doing tonight?â he asked.
You tried to keep your composure. âI donât have plans, butââ
âOkay, Iâll be waiting for you after work then.â
You didnât believe him at first. Youâve met many arrogant men who talk big, so you assumed he was the same.
After a seemingly long task, you finally finished your job, clocking out. You exited the building and saw him leaning on his car, arms crossed with his eyebrows furrowed like always. When he saw you, his eyes softened. He gave you a small smile and opened the passenger door.
This was new, but you went along, got in the car, and he closed the door behind you. You didnât see it but, He checked his hair in his phoneâs reflection before getting in.
As he drove, you admired the city view. The lights of the night never got old to you. But sooner than later curiosity got the better of you. âWhere are we going?â
He glanced at you through the mirror before focusing back on the road. âDinner at âThe Villa.ââ
Your eyes widened. âAre you serious? That place is expensive and fancy.â
He nodded. âI thought youâd enjoy it.â
You sighed. You could see he was trying, but fancy restaurants werenât your thing. An idea popped into your head. âTurn here Mr. Park, I know a place we can go.â
He looked at you, puzzled, but followed your directions. You guided him to a small restaurant. As you both got out, he seemed disappointed when you didnât let him open the door for you but brushed it off.
He looked around, not seeing any fancy places. âIs this it? A grill?â
You turned to him with the prettiest smile heâd ever seen on you. âYup! Come on.â You reached out your hand.
Usually, he wouldnât choose a place like this, but with a smile like that, heâd follow you anywhere. He took your hand, and you both went inside.
Inside, the atmosphere was cozy and lively. The smell of grilled food filled the air. You found a table, and he awkwardly sat down, clearly out of his element.
A server came by, placing a small grill in the center of your table and bringing plates of raw meat and vegetables. Sunghoon looked confused.
You giggled. âItâs a DIY grill. We cook our own food here.â
He raised an eyebrow. âWe⌠cook?â
You nodded, picking up a piece of meat with the tongs and placing it on the grill. It sizzled, and the aroma was mouth-watering.
He watched you, then hesitantly picked up the tongs. He tried to mimic your actions but fumbled, almost dropping the meat.
You laughed, reaching over to guide his hand. âLike this.â
As the evening went on, you both cooked, ate, and talked. Sunghoon shared stories about his upbringing, and you told him about your family. He was clumsy with the grill, burning some pieces and undercooking others, but you found it endearing.
At one point, he tried to flip a piece of meat and it flew off the grill, landing on the table. He looked mortified, but you burst into laughter.
âIâm sorry,â he said, chuckling. âIâm not used to this.â
You smiled. âItâs okay. Itâs fun.â
By the end of the night, the initial awkwardness had faded.
After a delightful dinner at the grill, you and Sunghoon stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the streets. As you walked side by side, you noticed a small park nearby, its swings gently swaying in the breeze.
âHow about a walk in the park?â you suggested, your eyes sparkling with mischief.
Sunghoon glanced at the swings, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. âI havenât been on a swing in years,â he admitted, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.
âWell, tonightâs the perfect night to revisit childhood memories,â you teased, nudging him playfully.
With a resigned smile, he agreed, âAlright, lead the way.â
You both approached the swings, and you took a seat on one, motioning for him to join you. He hesitated for a moment, then sat beside you, his posture stiff and unsure.
âJust relax,â you encouraged, giving him a gentle push. âI got you.â
As the swing moved, Sunghoonâs expression softened, and a genuine smile appeared on his face. He began to swing higher, his laughter blending with the night air.
âSee? Itâs fun,â you said, your voice filled with joy.
He nodded, his eyes meeting yours. âNo, youâre the one making it fun Ms, Y/N.â
You both continued to swing, the world around you fading away. The simple act of swinging together brought a sense of closeness and comfort, a shared moment of happiness.
After a while, you slowed the swing and stood up. âShall we continue our walk?â
âOf course,â he said, his voice soft.
As you walked through the park, you talked about everything and nothingâyour dreams, your favorite books, the places you wanted to visit. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and with each step, you felt a deeper connection forming between you.
That night with Sunghoon felt like it was straight out of a dreamâa memory you knew would replay in your mind over and over again. He wasnât at all what youâd expected. Sure, he had an air of arrogance, and his confidence sometimes teetered on egotistical, but once you broke through that wall, he was entirely different. Genuine. Kind. Charming in a way that made you question how youâd ever misjudged him.
Youâd never felt this kind of excitement in a long time, this sense of longing and hope for something more. A relationship. He hadnât officially asked you out yet, but it felt inevitable. Youâd already started imagining how it might all unfold.
But that was just wishful thinking.
The next day, as you walked into the office, you couldnât ignore the way whispers followed you down the hallway. People stealing glances at you, hurriedly looking away when you caught their eye. At first, you brushed it off. Office gossip was nothing new. Maybe someone had spilled coffee on their boss again.
But the moment you saw your phone light up with notificationsâhundreds of themâyou realized you were the center of the latest spectacle.
It wasnât just office chatter. It was everywhere. Tabloids, social media, magazines, blogs. Photos of you and Sunghoonâlaughing together, standing too close, looking too comfortable. But that wasnât the worst part. The headlines? They were brutal.
âIs Riki Nishimuraâs Older Sister Using Park Sunghoon for Fame?â
âDating Rumors Could Derail His Career!â
âHow Will This Affect HER Younger Brotherâs Future?â
Your stomach churned as you scrolled. At first, you laughed bitterly, brushing it off as ridiculous speculation. But then, you saw the headline about your brother. Your little brother, who had worked so hard to get where he was. Your heart sank.
If they wanted to drag your name through the mud, fine. But dragging your family into it? Threatening Rikiâs career? That crossed a line.
You paced the floor of your office, wracking your brain for a solution. There was only one answer. It wasnât fair, but it was the only way. You and Sunghoon⌠this thing between youâit couldnât happen. Not if it meant jeopardizing your brotherâs future.
The tears came slowly at first, then all at once as you slumped into your chair, burying your face in your hands. You hadnât even realized how much youâd come to cherish what you began to have with Sunghoon until now, as you were being forced to let it go.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon had no idea what was happening. He was in his office, practically glowing, still riding the high from the time you spent together. He couldnât wait to see you.
On his break, he searched for you. The lounge. The meeting room. Even your office. But you were nowhere to be found.
Frustrated, he turned to his co-workerâand now trusted friendâJaeyun.
âJaeyun, have you seen Y/N?â he asked, his tone casual, but his impatience obvious.
Jaeyunâs expression fell, pity flashing in his eyes. âY/N? She⌠she put in for a two-week leave this morning. I figured you knew.â
Sunghoonâs heart sank. âWhat? Why? What happened?â
Jaeyun gave him a pointed look. âYou havenât seen the news, have you?â
Frowning, Sunghoon pulled out his phone, quickly typing in his name. The search results made his breath hitch. Article after article, photos, speculation, your name tied to his, your family dragged into the chaos.
Then he saw the headline about your brother. His grip on the phone tightened. He knew what you were thinking. Knew why youâd disappeared. And there was no way he was going to let this spiral any further.
Without a second thought, he called your number. Once. Twice. Three times. Each attempt went to voicemail.
Panic bubbled in his chest. He couldnât let you do thisânot alone, not to yourself, not to your relationship.
He barked an order to his assistant to start taking down the articles, to figure out who was behind this mess. But first, he needed to find you.
And when he did, he wasnât going to let you push him away.
The days felt endless as you holed up in your apartment, your only companions being guilt and loneliness. It had been a week since you requested a two-week leave, and in that time, you hadnât dared step foot outside. The weight of the news, the whispers, and the consequences of your choices pressed down on you like a heavy blanket.
The day you left the office, you called Riki, your voice trembling as you asked if he was okay. He reassured you that everything was fineâfor now. His management had advised him to lay low until the rumors blew over. He didnât sound angry, but that almost made it worse. You felt like youâd dragged him into your mess, and the guilt ate away at you.
Since then, youâd spent most of your time thinking about Sunghoon. Replaying the moments youâd shared, wondering how he felt, and most of all, worrying about what youâd say to him when you eventually faced him again. Did he care that much? Or had this all been one-sided? These questions swirled in your mind endlessly as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Desperate to drown out your thoughts, you remembered the new bar that had recently opened near your apartment. Without much thought, you dragged yourself out of bed, threw on some clothes, and headed out.
The bar was dimly lit, buzzing with quiet conversations and the occasional burst of laughter. You didnât waste any time. One drink turned into two, then three, then four. You lost count after that, the haze of alcohol dulling your thoughts until you didnât feel much of anything. Eventually, your body gave in, and you slumped over, unconscious.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon was unraveling.
It had been a week since he last saw you, and the distance was driving him insane. Every attempt to find you ended in failure. He didnât know where you lived, your favorite places, or even how to contact your family. It frustrated him to no end, and it hurt even more to think that you might be avoiding him.
Every evening, he found himself at the small grill you both went to, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Tonight was no different. He stood outside the familiar spot, his hands shoved into his coat pockets as he tried to stave off the cold.
The buzz of his phone broke through his thoughts, and his heart leapt when he saw your name on the screen. He fumbled to answer, pressing the phone to his ear.
âY/N? Where are youââ
âAre you friends with the owner of this phone?â a deep, unfamiliar voice interrupted.
Sunghoon blinked, pulling the phone away to confirm it was your number on the display. Confusion settled in. âUh, yeah? Who is this? Why do you have her phone?â
âNo worries,â the man replied. âSheâs passed out in my bar. I found her phone unlocked and figured Iâd call someone. Can you come pick her up?â
Sunghoonâs heart dropped. âWhere is she?â
The man gave him the location, and Sunghoon didnât hesitate. He bolted to his car and sped through the city, his mind racing with questions. Were you okay? Why were you at a bar alone this late?
When he arrived, he barely parked the car before running inside. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you. Slumped over the bar, your head resting on your arms, you looked so vulnerable. Relief and worry collided in his chest as he approached you.
âYouâre Hoon, right?â the bartender asked, eyeing him curiously.
Sunghoon blinked in confusion before realizing the name was probably how you saved his contact. He smiled faintly, nodding. âYeah, thatâs me.â
The bartender nodded and stepped away, leaving Sunghoon to focus on you. His chest tightened when he saw how puffy your eyes were, evidence of the tears youâd cried before drinking yourself into this state.
He crouched beside you, placing a gentle hand on your back. âY/N⌠can you walk?â
Your eyes fluttered open, blurry and unfocused as they locked with his. For a moment, you looked like you were seeing a ghost.
âHoon?â you slurred softly, your voice tinged with disbelief.
He sighed in relief. âYeah, itâs me. Come on, letâs get you out of here.â
But when you didnât move, he frowned. You were too out of it to help him. He checked your phone, hoping for some clue about where to take you, but it was locked.
He hesitated. Taking you to his place didnât feel right, but with no other options and the clock striking midnight, he made a decision.
âYouâll understand, right?â he murmured to himself, draping his coat over your shoulders. He carefully helped you to your feet, guiding you out of the bar and into his car.
The drive to his penthouse was quiet, save for your soft breathing. He couldnât stop himself from stealing glances at you, the city lights illuminating your face in a way that made his chest ache. Even like this, you were beautiful.
When they arrived, getting you upstairs was a challenge. You slumped against him, muttering incoherently and occasionally whining about how tired you were. By the time he managed to unlock his door and get you inside, he was exhausted.
He guided you to his bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed. As he adjusted his coat on your shoulders, he heard you mumble something. When he turned back, his face turned bright red.
âWhy is it so hot?â you grumbled, fumbling with the buttons of your shirt.
âWoah, heyâdonât do that!â he yelped, grabbing your hands to stop you. âJust⌠just wait, Iâll turn on the AC!â
He backed away, keeping a wary eye on you as he adjusted the thermostat. When he returned, he brought a glass of water, helping you sit up to drink. âThere, thatâs better, hm?â
You sighed, lying back down with a soft hum of approval.
Sunghoon turned to leave, planning to sleep on the couch, but you grabbed his wrist, your eyes wide and pleading. âHoon⌠stay. Please?â
His heart clenched. How could he ever say no to you?
âAlright,â he whispered, circling the bed and lying down on the other side, facing the ceiling. He felt awkward, unsure of what to do, but within moments, you shifted closer, resting your head on his chest.
He froze, his heart pounding as he felt your steady breaths against him. Slowly, he relaxed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair.
âGoodnight,â he murmured softly, his eyes fluttering shut as sleep finally claimed him.
The glow of the sun streamed through the curtains, forcing you to stir awake. The dull throbbing in your head hit as soon as you sat up, and you winced, bringing a hand to your temple.
Blinking, you took in your surroundings. The room was unfamiliarâsleek, modern, and definitely not your own. Panic began to rise in your chest as you tried to piece together the events of the previous night. You remembered the bar, the drinks, and then⌠nothing.
Your eyes widened as you looked down at yourself, relieved to find you were still in your clothes. But then you spotted the figure lying beside you, their back turned to you.
Oh no.
You gasped, clutching the pillow youâd been sleeping on, and without thinking, you began smacking the manâs back with it in a panic. âWho are you?! What is this?! Did weâ?!â
The man bolted awake, flinching and shielding himself with his arms. âHey! Hey! Stop!â he shouted, scrambling backward until he fell off the bed with a loud thud.
You froze mid-swing, the familiar voice cutting through your panic. Slowly, you leaned over the edge of the bed, clutching the pillow tightly.
âSunghoon?â you whispered, your eyes wide.
He was sprawled on the floor, wincing as he rubbed the back of his head. His legs were awkwardly bent in the air, and he looked up at you with an awkward, sheepish smile. âUh, hi.â
You let out a deep breath, sitting back on the bed. âOh my god,â you muttered, dragging your hands down your face.
Sunghoon quickly got up, brushing himself off as he looked at you with a mix of concern and embarrassment. âIâm sorry, I shouldâve explained sooner. We didnât⌠yâknow, do anything.â
Your cheeks burned as you glanced up at him. âAre you sure?â
His ears turned bright pink as he nodded fervently. âYes! I swear. You passed out at the bar, and I didnât know where you lived, so I brought you here. Thatâs it, I promise.â
You relaxed slightly, but the tension in the room remained heavy. The silence that followed was suffocating, neither of you knowing what to say.
Finally, you broke it, your voice trembling. âSunghoon⌠our relationship has to end here.â
His head snapped toward you, his eyes wide with disbelief. âWhat? Why?â
You avoided his gaze, staring at the sheets instead. âIâm sure youâve seen the news. Theyâre dragging my brother into this, and I canât let that happen. I canât risk his career for my selfish desires.â
âY/Nââ
âWhat we had was nice,â you interrupted, your voice cracking slightly. âBut itâs better for everyone if we stop seeing each other.â
He stepped closer, his brows furrowed in frustration. âYou should check the tabloids again.â
You froze, your heart pounding. âWhat do you mean?â
Sunghoon grabbed his phone from the nightstand, quickly pulling up the articles before handing it to you. You hesitated, but as you scrolled, your breath caught.
The scandal was gone. There were no articles tearing you apart, no headlines about your brother being caught up in rumors. Instead, there were positive comments, even a few articles praising the supposed romance.
âHow⌠how did this happen?â you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sunghoon sighed softly, sitting down beside you. His voice was gentle but firm. âI made it happen. I wasnât going to let them ruin your life, or your brotherâs, over something like this.â
You turned to look at him, his face close to yours. His expression was so sincere, so full of quiet determination, that it made your chest ache.
âWhy would you do that?â you asked, your voice trembling.
âBecause I care about you,â he said simply. âAnd Iâm not giving up on us that easily.â
The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. Your eyes locked, and in that moment, all the fear, doubt, and guilt melted away.
Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing his tentatively. Sunghoon froze for a split second before responding, his hand cupping your cheek as he deepened the kiss. It was soft and slow at first, filled with all the emotions neither of you had been able to express.
But soon, the kiss grew more passionate, more desperate, as if you were both trying to make up for all the lost time and the moments you almost didnât have. His other hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer, while your fingers tangled in his hair.
Soft sighs fell from the both of you as he laid you back on the bed. His hand exploring your body softly and slowly.
You took the chance to snake your hands below his shirt, scratching his back slightly making him shutter against you.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.
âSunghoon,â you whispered, your voice shaky but certain. âThank you.â
He smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. âAnything for you.â
BONUS đđËâ
âHoon, get up,â you said softly, glancing down at Sunghoon, who was sprawled across your chest like he had no intention of moving.
âMm,â he hummed lazily, burying his face into you as if that would make you forget about work entirely.
You let out a soft laugh, stroking his hair absentmindedly. The moment your fingers ran through his dark locks, you realized youâd made a mistakeâhe let out a content sigh and snuggled in closer, clearly sinking even deeper into his sleepy state.
âWe have to go to work,â you said, this time playfully, though your hands still gently tangled in his hair.
âI donât want to,â he mumbled, his pout evident even though his face was tucked against you. God, he was so cute.
You smiled softly, shaking your head. âWell, we have responsibilities we canât ignore, so you need to get up, Hoon.â
When he didnât respond, you rolled your eyes, deciding to switch tactics. âIf you get up, Iâll give you a reward,â you said, your tone light but teasing.
That did it. His head immediately shot up, his sleepy eyes now wide with interest. âWhat kind of reward?â he asked, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.
You smirked, leaning back slightly as his head rested on your chest, his eyes glinting with curiosity. âYouâll find out if you get up,â you teased, brushing a stray lock of hair away from his face.
Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not entirely convinced. âThatâs suspicious,â he murmured, though the corner of his lips quirked into a small smile. âIs it worth it?â
âMore than worth it,â you said confidently, trying to stifle a laugh. âBut youâre never going to know if you keep laying there.â
He groaned dramatically, still clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the bed. âYouâre not making this easy, you know.â
âWell, youâre the one being stubborn,â you replied, gently pushing at his shoulder, though he didnât budge.
Then, in one swift motion, he propped himself up on his elbows, his face dangerously close to yours. âOkay,â he said, his voice low and playful. âIâm up. Whereâs my reward?â
Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden proximity, his teasing grin making your heart race. âPatience,â you said, trying to keep your composure. âYouâre not fully up yet. Get ready for work first.â
He tilted his head, pretending to think. âHmm, that wasnât part of the deal.â
âItâs implied,â you countered, laughing softly as you tried to push him off the bed.
But instead of moving, Sunghoon leaned even closer, his warm breath fanning over your cheeks. âI think I deserve at least a preview,â he murmured, his lips brushing yours ever so slightly.
Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to glare at him, but it was impossible when his mischievous grin was so disarming. âYouâre impossible,â you muttered, but before you could say anything else, he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a soft but lingering kiss.
It started playful, his lips tugging into a smile against yours, but quickly turned deeper, his hand cupping the side of your face as he kissed you with a tenderness that made your heart skip. He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, âBest reward ever.â
You rolled your eyes, still breathless. âNow get up, Hoon. Or that'll be the last one you'll ever get.â
He laughed, finally pulling himself out of bed. âFine, fine. Youâre the boss in this house.â
He disappeared into the bathroom, you couldnât help but smile to yourself, your cheeks warm as you touched your lips. Sunghoon always had a way of turning your mornings into something unforgettable.
#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fic#fanfic#fluff fic#enhypen angst#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen niki#enhypen jake#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon#sunghoon park#sunghoon#enhypen sunoo#kim sunoo
664 notes
¡
View notes
Note
an oscar x deaf reader, maybe sheâs friends w someone working in mclaren and visits. the reader almost gets into an accident and oscar saves her, mad that she wasnât paying attention and yells at her only to realize sheâs deaf. he apologizes and he starts talking to her after that day.
close save | oscar piastri
pairing: oscar piastri x deaf reader note: i know close to nothing about lip reading and deafness, all info used in this is something iâve googled, so feel free to correct me if something is wrong!! also, iâve tried something new with writing it mostly from oscarâs perspective, so let me know if you like it xx
the midday sun beats down on the mclaren garage, casting long shadows over the bustling crew. itâs been a long morning of prep work, but oscar doesnât mindâhe thrives in the intensity, in the noise, in the hum of engines that fill his ears.
as he turns to grab a drink of water, something catches his eye. a young woman is standing just outside the garage, looking around with a distracted expression. youâre not wearing any of the usual gear or badges that indicate youâre part of the team, but thereâs something familiar about you. oscar narrows his eyes, trying to place your face, when he notices something alarmingâa forklift is backing up, and youâre right in its path.
without thinking, oscar drops the bottle and sprints toward you. his heart pounds as he closes the distance, yelling for you to move, but you donât react. panic grips him as he reaches out, grabbing your arm and yanking you out of the way just in time. the forklift lumbers past, the driver oblivious to the close call.
oscarâs chest heaves as he turns to face you, adrenaline coursing through his veins. âwhat the hell were you thinking? you couldâve beenââ he stops mid-sentence, noticing your startled expression. your eyes are widened, but not in fear of the near-miss. itâs something else.
you blink at him, your mouth moving soundlessly, and suddenly oscar realizes whatâs wrong. you canât hear him. the realization hits him like a punch to the gut, and the anger he felt a moment ago is instantly replaced by guilt. his face softens, and he steps back, his hand dropping from your arm.
âiâm- iâm sorry,â he stammers, his voice suddenly quiet, as if lowering it might somehow make up for his outburst. âi didnât know . . .â
you tilt your head slightly, as if trying to read his lips, and oscar feels a wave of helplessness wash over him. he raises his hands, fumbling awkwardly as he tries to communicate. he doesnât know any sign languageâheâs never needed toâbut he gestures toward the forklift, then back at you, hoping you understand that he was just worried.
to his relief, you nod, giving him a small, understanding smile. you point to your ear, then shake your head, confirming what heâs already guessed. youâre deaf.
oscar takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. he feels terrible, not just for yelling at you, but for assuming you were ignoring him when you couldnât even hear him in the first place. âiâm sorry,â he repeats, mouthing the words more deliberately this time. he hopes you can read his lips.
you nod again, your expression kind, and motion that itâs okay. oscar feels a strange warmth in his chest at your forgiveness. he still feels like an idiot, but at least you donât seem to hold it against him.
at that moment, lando appears from the other side of the garage, waving enthusiastically as he approaches. âhey, mate! you met jonâs sister yet?â he calls out, clearly unaware of what just happened. he jogs over, grinning broadly. âoscar, this is-â
âjonâs sister?â oscar repeats, cutting him off. the pieces fall into placeâjon, landoâs personal trainer, had mentioned his sister visiting today. he hadnât put two and two together until now. âright. i didnât realize . . .â
landoâs grin falters as he notices the awkward tension. âoh. uh, yeah . . . sheâs deaf, by the way. did i forget to mention that?â
oscar shoots him a look, but lando just shrugs, mouthing an exaggerated âsorry!â before turning back to you. âi see youâve met oscar, then,â he says, switching to a more careful, lip-readable pace. he introduces you properly, and oscar watches as you sign something back to lando.
lando nods and translates, âshe says thank you for saving her back there.â
oscar feels his face heat up a little, embarrassed but also strangely proud. âno problem,â he says, and then, after a pause, he adds, âi shouldâve been more careful. iâm sorry if i scared you.â
lando relays the message, and you just smile, giving oscar a thumbs up.
over the next few hours, oscar finds himself glancing over at you more than once. he feels a strange pull, unable to tear his eyes away as you move through the garage, interacting with your brother and some of the crew, completely at ease despite the noise and chaos around you.
at one point, you catch him looking and wave. oscar waves back, feeling a bit foolish. when the day winds down and most of the team starts packing up, oscar spots you sitting on one of the low walls outside the garage, watching the track.
he hesitates for a moment, then walks over and sits down next to you, keeping a respectful distance. you look over and give him a welcoming smile, and for the first time, oscar doesnât feel nervous. he doesnât know how to sign, but he doesnât need to. you sit there together, quietly watching as the sun dips lower in the sky, painting the track in shades of gold.
finally, oscar turns to you. his phone is open in his notes app, and in there heâs written: would you like to get a coffee sometime? maybe you could teach me some sign language.
you raise an eyebrow, then nod, your smile widening as you sign something to him. oscar doesnât understand it yet, but he knows one thing: heâs definitely looking forward to learning.
#f1#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#mclaren#mclaren racing#op81#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#op81 x you#op81 x y/n#op81 fluff#op81 fic#oscar piastri x yn#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x fem!reader#divider by cafekitsune#formula one imagine
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Bf!Nam-gyu / Player 124 Headcanons
Pairing: Boyfriend!Nam-gyu x fem!reader (No Squid Game AU)
Warnings: Mention of drug use/withdrawal, other than that it's just fluff (maybe a teeny tiny bit of angst), not proof read (english isn't my first language)
ŕŞââ´ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who you met at the club he worked at during a night out with your friends. He took one look at you and knew he was in love immediately â Your makeup, your dress, your hair, that you spent hours trying to style it, just everything about you was perfect. He genuinely had to stop what he was doing for a second to get his thoughts straight.
ŕŞââ´ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who just couldn't help but give you drinks on the house, trying to make small talk with you. The music was loud, blaring out of the speakers not far away from the bar, but he didn't need to hear you. For him, it was enough to see you up close, to see you smile and laugh at his cheesy attempts at pick-up lines. He laughed along, trying to overplay his nervousness, which didn't quite work.
ŕŞââ´ It wouldn't have been the first time that Boyfriend!Nam-gyu took a girl back home with him that he met at his work, but you were different. He wasn't staring at your body, looking down your cleavage when talking to him, no, he was actually interested in getting to know you. During your short conversation, he could just tell how kind and lighthearted you were. After all, not every girl would entertain his flirting.
ŕŞââ´ After a few times seeing you around the club again, Boyfriend!Nam-gyu had secured your phone number, which you wrote down on his hand with a little heart next to it. You couldn't exactly tell why you liked him this much, hut he was weirdly charming and appreciated the fact that he wanted to take you out on a proper date some time. He was cute, you couldn't deny that, so you took up on his offer.
ŕŞââ´ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who stayed true to his word and texted you right after his shift, setting up a date and time for a meeting outside his workplace. He already had everything thought out in his head, perhaps even imagining little scenarios about you before falling asleep.
ŕŞââ´ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who could now actually introduce himself as your boyfriend after a couple of dates, long phone calls and deep talks late at night when you'd stay over at his place. The two of you had developed a strong bond in no time, finding out that you had more in common than you first thought. And, in your opinion, he was the best partner you could wish for. Nam-gyu was attentive, always noticed if you felt bad and cheered you up, funny.. what wasn't there to love about him?
ŕŞââ´ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who you helped get clean and also get a better job. The first few weeks of withdrawal weren't the easiest on him nor your relationship, but you absolutely made it work. You'd comfort him during a breakdown, wiping his tears away for him and hold him against your chest. Your nails would scrape the back of his neck, making him let out a shaky sigh.
"I'm.. sorry about that, baby-" Nam-gyu sniffled, taking a deep breath before looking up at you. "There's nothing you have to apologize for," you replied back, a bit shocked about the fact that he would think he needed to say sorry for crying. "I'm here for you, okay? I love you, don't forget that."
ŕŞââ´ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who would frequently buy you your favorite flowers. You'd always ask him what the occasion was and he'd always just shrug, claiming that he didn't need an occasion or a reason to maks you happy.
ŕŞââ´ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who would try to help you while baking something, but would mess everything up he was involved with. Cookies came out burnt, brownies didn't fully bake through.. whatever it was, it just didn't work out. But, you two had fun while doing it and that was all that mattered. Well, not all the time maybe (you reaaaaally wanted those chocolate chip cookies).
ŕŞââ´ Boyfriend!Nam-gyu.. who kisses you awake every morning, even if you could sleep in. Whenever he has to wake up before you, he'd pepper kisses all over your face, partially to also annoy you.
You slowly opened your eyes at the feeling of Nam-gyu's lips against your, turning your head away from him. He laughed and tried to lean over to give you another, but you weren't having it. "Leave me alone!" you blurted out, eyes still closed and all.
"Jesus, can't I kiss my girlfriend goodbye anymore?"
"No."
"Why? What did I do?"
"I hate you."
"Good morning to you too, princess."
#squid game#squid game fanfic#squid game season 2#squid games x reader#squid game x reader#nam gyu squid game#nam gyu x reader#player 124 x reader#player 124#squid games#nam gyu
738 notes
¡
View notes
Text
December | Pornstar!Javier PeĂąa x Fem!Reader | Part 6 of Unscripted Desire | ~16k wc | Series Masterlist | Explicit. Minors DNI.
Summary: Your winter getaway with Javier.
Tags: alternating pov, javi is having an identity crisis, established relationship, fluff (i cringe), romance (still cringing), smut (no longer cringing), jealous!javi, oh no the triple frontier boys are here, oral (m&f), p in v sex, once again: javi is clipped, filming a sex tape, dirty porn talk, hot tub sex, pussy/dick pronouns, javi puts you in a headlock (i've been influenced by all the headlock fics also stream headlock by imogen heap), breath control play, squirting, clit stimulation, no use of y/n, reader has some vague physical descriptions (mid-sized, curvy, hair that can have fingers run through), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay thx.
A/N: happy holidays âď¸ i wanted to do something fun for the season and to thank everyone who has supported this story so far! i love you guys 𩵠as always, thank you @persephone-girl for reading over bits of this and being my emotional support hehe
Youâve barely shut the door when a loud, frustrated âFuck!â echoes through your apartment, followed by the unmistakable clatter of things hitting the floor. Your brows knit together as you toss your keys into the bowl by the entrance and hang your bag on the back of a kitchen chair.
The sight waiting for you confirms your suspicions: your very hot, very frustrated boyfriend is pacing in the middle of the room, his broad shoulders tight with tension. Scattered across the coffee table and floor around him are puzzle pieces.
âJavi,â you say, crossing your arms as you take in the scene. âWhatâs going on?â
He stops mid-stride, scowling down at the pieces as though theyâve personally insulted him. âThe fucking puzzle is broken,â he gestures angrily toward the mess.
You blink at him, biting back a grin. âYeah, thatâs kind of the point. You have to put it back together.â Your voice lilts with playful teasing, hoping to lighten the mood he is in.
He shoots you a look thatâs equal parts annoyed and sheepish. Stepping forward, you place yourself squarely in his path, wrapping your arms around his waist.
Heâs got no choice but to halt his pacing, and after a moment, his arms drop heavily around you. You can feel the frustration draining out of him like air from a balloon.
âEstoy volviĂŠndome loco, nena.â His chest rises and falls in a heavy exhale, hands instinctively finding their place on your lower back.Â
You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. Itâs hard not to get lost in his good looksâthose dark, soulful eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hair falls perfectly so, no matter how much heâs been raking his fingers through it.
He could be pissed at the entire world, and heâd still be the most handsome man youâve ever seen.
He told you he was done with porn, and he meant it. It didnât happen all at once, he stuck to solo work until he lost the passion for it entirely before finally cutting ties with his agent and declaring himself âretired.â
The checks will keep coming, sure, but they arenât a permanent safety net. That left your boyfriend at a crossroads, staring down the daunting question of what came next.
âFuck, I donât know. What else am I even good at?â
Now, Pornstar Javier PeĂąa is just⌠Javi. Without the glitz and veneer of his former life, heâs a bit of a mess, honestly. A hot mess, sure, but a mess all the same.
He spends most of his days drifting between your apartment and his place, and more often than not, itâs your bed he ends up in. Sometimes heâs sprawled on the couch, lazily surfing through the channels, other times heâs fast asleep, limbs tangled in your sheets, his brow furrowed even while dreaming.
Itâs like heâs waiting for the pieces of himself to fall into place but has no idea where to start.
You have, actually, tried helping him find new interests, with mixed results.
Cooking classes? A bustâtoo many rules and timers for someone who likes to work off instinct. Hiking? Not his thing, and youâd barely made it halfway up the trail before he declared he needed a cold beer and a hot shower. Pottery seemed promising for about five minutes before a poorly shaped bowl sent him muttering a string of Spanish curses under his breath and he quit then and there.
Itâs not that heâs⌠bad at these things, necessarily, but none of them feel true to him.
âBaby, youâre not going to figure out who you are overnight. It takes time,â you murmur, tilting your head up to press a kiss to the tip of his chin, the roughness of his stubble brushing against your lips.
He grumbles. âIâm impatient.â
âI noticed,â you tease, a giggle slipping out as your hands sneak under his shirt. Your fingers trail along his ribs, stroking the warm, solid muscle there. The quiet hum of satisfaction you let out isnât for his benefitâitâs for you. He feels so damn good under your touch, like he was built to be admired.
Javier shifts slightly, straightening up as if your hands have hit a reset button on his mood. âHow was your day?â
You started a new job with the camera crew on an actual film set, and itâs a sweet gig, the opportunity kind of landing in your lap out of nowhere. Someone you knew from college reached out, and the pay was too good to pass up, even if the work itself wasnât all that different from what youâve done on porn sets.
Less dicks and tits, but the same technical work. When youâre not on set, youâre still clinging to the comfort of your shifts at Luckyâs.Â
You shrug lightly, nuzzling into him. âSame as always. Nothing too exciting. But Iâm glad I donât have to work the bar tonight. Maybe I can help you with that puzzle.â You tease.
âOrâŚâ His tone shifts so quickly itâs almost dizzyingâwarm and doting one second, low and sinful the next. His hands drift south, firmly gripping your ass and giving it a harsh squeeze
âOr?â you repeat, your arousal flaring.
Thatâs all the invitation he needs.
In no time, you find yourself naked and sprawled against the coffee table, the surface pressing into your back while scattered puzzle pieces stick to your damp skin. But none of that mattersânot when Javier is between your legs, his broad shoulders holding you open like a prize only he gets to claim.
His mouth is buried in your pussy, wet and eager tongue moving with a purpose that has your thighs trembling. He laps at you expertly, each flick and thrust inside your cunt dragging whimpers out of you, your body singing under his touch.
Javier groans, the sound vibrating against your pussy. âYou taste so,â kiss, âfucking,â lick, âgood,â suck. Your back arches and you sob his name loudly, eyes fluttering close at how good he is at eating you out.
No matter how many times he does it, he somehow manages to surpass the time before. Men like Javier are a rare thing, and youâre annoyed at yourself for not succumbing to him earlier. You just had to prove a fucking point.
He pulls back just enough to lick and bite at your inner thigh, trying to control himself from devouring you whole, before diving back in. His hands keep you pinned to the edge of the table as you shake uncontrollably in his grasp.
Every obscene noise he makes is matched by the wet, filthy sounds of his tongue working you over and you feel the pressure winding tighter and tighter. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling as you gasp his name, and the pleased growl he gives in response sends you careening over.
He doesnât stop, not until your body shudders and youâre left panting, your limbs heavy and boneless. When he finally lifts his head, mustache damp and lips glistening, heâs looking at you with that satisfied smirk youâve grown accustomed to seeing.
âFuck, I could stay down here for hours.â His voice tapers off into a groan and he doesnât wait for a reply before pressing soft kisses along your drenched folds, letting his teeth scrape ever so lightly against your sensitive flesh. Then his tongue, broad and sinful, drags a slow, torturous stripe from your entrance to your clit.
âYou could⌠if you wanted to,â you pant, your voice barely above a whisper as your body gears up for even more pleasure. You pull him closer, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the delicious pressure of his nose pressing against your swollen nub.
Javier lets you take what you need, his large hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady while his tongue thrusts back inside, exploring every fluttering inch. His curved nose rubs against your clit with each motion, sending you into a fucking frenzy.
Youâre shameless, unabashedly humping his face, chasing the high only he can give you. And he loves itâthrives on itâhis tongue relentless as it maps out every curve and crevice of your pussy. The slick, creamy mess makes it easier for you to move, his grunts and your mewling cries swirling together.
âJavi, I want to come on your cockâoh fuck!â The words tumble out before you can stop them, and his answer is a wicked nip of his teeth against your labia, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.
âYou will, nena,â he murmurs, his voice slurred with lust as he adjusts your legs, planting your feet at the edge of the table. He spreads you open obscenely, his dark eyes gleaming as he takes in the sight of your wet pussy laid bare for him. âBut first, youâre gonna come all over my tongue again. Puta madre, youâre so fucking hot.â
His tongue flicks over your pearl rapidly and your back arches off the table as euphoria courses through you. You glance down, locking eyes with him, and the pruriency in his gaze sends you tumbling over the edge.
âJavier, oh shit!â Youâre left helpless against the onslaught of his mouth, gushing all over his handsome face as he keens in satisfaction.
You collapse back against the table, your body spent and your mind still buzzing. Javier wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning smugly down at you, his girthy cock hanging heavy between you, droplets of precum squirting from the slit and drizzling down the heated shaft.
Pros of dating a pornstar: He can fuck. Cons of dating a pornstar: He can fuck.
Itâs like being in a constant state of delicious ruin, where your needsâboth romantic and sexualâare met in ways you never thought possible.
But damn, this man knows how to wear you the fuck out.
Sometimes he gets a little too ambitious. Twisting, bending, and pulling you into positions that make you pause and remind him, between panting breaths, that youâre not as flexible as the women heâs been with before.
âPractice makes perfect, baby,â he always says with that infuriatingly charming grin, right before fucking you so thoroughly that you forget how to breathe.
This time is no different. Javier hovers over you with the kind of dominance that makes your pussy clench, his strong hands gripping your body like he owns it.
Somehow, heâs managed to maneuver you on the awkward height of the coffee table, one leg slung over his broad shoulder while keeping your opposite thigh spread wide.
Then, with a sharp thrust, his fat cock splits you open, stretching your pussy in a way thatâs so brutally perfect.
The force of it knocks a loud yelp from your lips, your forearms press against the table for balance. You canât look away from where your bodies meet, watching in filthy fascination as your sticky folds swallow him whole and spit him back out, his cock glistening with the rich evidence of how turned on you are.
âMy fucking god,â he growls, words laden with desperation, âyou feel better than you fucking taste.â He spits the words out, literally, a thick bead of saliva falling from his lips to land on your cunt.
Without missing a beat, his thumb moves to your clit, pressing down and swirling in tight circles.
The pressure makes your entire body tense, a strained cry of his name tearing from your throat.
Your tits bounce wildly with every rough thrust, and his dark eyes flicker between the hypnotic sway of your breasts and the lewd sight of your pussy stretched tight around his dick.
Your mouth hangs open, brows furrowed as helpless sounds spill out while his cock punches deep into that one spot that has colorful dots blotching your vision. Your toes curl as the overwhelming feeling builds, your body on the verge of complete surrender.
âRight there, babyâoh fuck me, donât stop, donât stop, donât stop.â You sound wrecked, like youâve been possessed by the pleasure heâs giving you. Your back falls flat against the table again, your hands reaching up to squeeze your tits, pulling at your nipples as you let him use your cunt however he wants.Â
He deserves it.
Loose curls fall over his face, making him look so sexy while he fucks into you with everything heâs got. His tongue pokes out in concentration, his fingertips dimpling the plush skin of your thighs as he holds you steady. The poor coffee table groans beneath the brutal rhythm, creaking with every hard snap of his hips.
It doesnât take much moreâyour body seizes up as you come hard, the orgasm crashing through you so violently that youâre certain youâre going to pass out. Your pussy clamps down around his shaft, milking him for everything heâs worth.
âFuck, take it,â he groans, his pace faltering as he spills inside you, thick ropes of cum filling your pussy until you swear you can feel it gurgling in your throat. The vicious, overwhelming sensation makes you shudder, your body twitching as his weight settles against you, his cock still buried deep inside your quivering walls.
You feel pulverized, your body humming in content, but all you can think is: God, this man could fuck me to death, and Iâd die happy.
Immediately, your calf seizes, the muscle knotting painfully as a piercing cry slices through your throat. Your body jerks involuntarily, hands pressing against Javierâs chest to push him off you.
âShit, stopâ cramp!â you gasp.
Javier freezes, his face instantly morphing from focused lust to deep concern. He pulls out of you carefully, hissing at the feeling, his touch tender as he lowers your trembling leg from his shoulder. âWhere? Here?â Heâs already massaging the rigid knot in your calf with his strong, calloused hands.
âYeahâfuck, ow! Right there.â Another pang shoots through you, and you wince, clutching at the edge of the coffee table for stability. âI keep telling you Iâm not fit forâahh, ow!âyour crazy-ass positions.â
He huffs a little laugh, though his hands never stop their steady kneading. âIt wasnât that crazy,â he mutters defensively, but one warning glare from you is enough to shut him up.
Once the cramp begins to ease, your body relaxes against the table with a long sigh. Javierâs touch softens, his thumbs now sweeping soothing circles over your calf. He leans down and presses a kiss to the tender muscle, murmuring, âSorry, nena. Didnât mean to hurt you.â
Your heart swells at his care, and you canât help but grin as he kisses his way up your body. His lips trace a slow, reverent pathâyour pelvis, the softness of your belly, the suppleness of each breast, the hollow of your throat. By the time his mouth meets yours, your annoyance is completely forgotten, replaced by a lazy, bubbling affection.
This is the first real kiss heâs given you since you got home, and itâs the kind that melts you from the inside out. You hum against his lips, your tongue tracing the curve of his mouth, savoring the way he tastes like sex and something inherently Javi.
When the kiss finally breaks, you both sit there for a moment, naked and tangled together, his cum still slick between your thighs and smearing against the surface of the table.
âIâll try to be more considerate next time,â he says, almost teasingly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
You smirk, dragging your nails lightly down his chest. âYou better, or Iâll start vetoing these gymnastic stunts of yours.â
He chuckles, his eyes dropping briefly to where his cum is trickling from you. A rueful grin spreads across his face as he reaches for the shirt heâd discarded earlier and uses it to clean the mess between your legs.
The simple domesticity of the act makes your chest ache in the best way.
As he finishes, you stretch your arms over your head, your muscles still warm and loose despite the cramp. âI need a shower, some real food... and maybe another round later.â
âOnly maybe?â He raises an eyebrow, his dimpled, teasing smile returning.
You hum thoughtfully, your gaze tracing the defined line of his jaw as your finger follows. âIf you think sex is gonna be a distraction from the mess in your head, think again.â
âItâs the best distraction,â he mutters. âWould rather make my girl feel good than deal with everything else.â
âAnd while Iâm flattered, baby, itâs not the healthiest thing you can do.â
His expression falters, the cockiness slipping away like a mask being gently peeled back. âIâm fuckinâ terrible at this. Always have been,â he mutters, his hands roaming your body as if touching you might patch together all thatâs unraveling inside him.
His palms are warm and firm, one cupping your breast in a gentle squeeze, the other sliding down to rest at your hip.
He kneads and caresses you, almost like youâre the one who needs the comfort instead of him. âIâve spent so much time doing what I thought people wanted from me. Now I donât even know what I want.â
âThereâs no rush to figure it out, you know. No oneâs expecting you to and I promise youâre not the only person that feels this way.â
âFeels like Iâve got nothinâ to show for myself, though. Just a pile of bullshit and a broken puzzle.â
You sit up, drawing his focus to you as your hands grip his toned biceps to steady yourself. âHey.â Your voice is soft but insistent. âYouâve got more than you think. And I happen to like this version of youâeven if heâs a grump.â
A faint smirk breaks through the inner struggle that clouds in his eyes. âYeah? Even when Iâm beinâ a lazy ass?â
âEven then,â you tease, grinning back at him.
His gaze lingers, drinking you in with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours. Youâre weightless, floating in the way only Javi can make you feel when he kisses you like this.
âI donât deserve you, you know that?â he murmurs against your lips, his forehead resting against yours.
âItâs always nice to be reminded.â
He rolls his eyes playfully, his teeth catching your lower lip in a gentle bite before he finally lets you go. He stands, offering you his hand to pull you to your feet.
As you wobbly get up, a few puzzle pieces that had clung to your skin fall to the floor, catching both your attention. Javi chuckles, a little more relaxed than before. âShouldâve cleaned those up before spreading you open like that.â
âI feel like thereâs a metaphor in there somewhere.â
He turns you gently so he can pluck off the remaining pieces, his hand lingering to deliver a playful slap to your ass which makes you giggle.
âYou know,â you say after a beat, glancing at him, âthis puzzle thing could be good for you. Builds patience.â
He arches a brow, skepticism written all over his face. âOnce again, that isnât exactly my strong suit, cariĂąo.â
âYeah, no kidding.â Your grin is infectious as you nudge him lightly with your shoulder. âBut maybe thatâs what you need right now. Something slow. Something thatâs just for you. And something that isnâtâŚâ You trail off, eyes darting to the box abandoned on the couch. âA hideous horse puzzle. God, Javi, what even is this? Iâd be pissed trying to put it together too.â
A scoff escapes him, sharp and playful, his brown eyes narrowing as he straightens. âFirst of all, itâs vintage,â he says, the mock defense in his tone making you laugh.
âVintage? Thatâs not an excuse.â Youâre already stepping back when you see the shift in his stance, the way his hand twitches toward you. âDonât even think about it.â
But itâs too late. His fingers dart out in an attempt to pinch your side, and you squeal, darting out of reach. The sound of your laughter fills the room, loud and unrestrained as you scramble to keep distance between the two of you. Heâs, unsurprisingly, quicker, his footsteps closing behind as he chases you down the hallway.
Just as you reach the bathroom door, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body. Youâre both breathless, his warm breath fanning against your ear as he holds you close. âGotcha.â
Your heart pounds, your laughter subsiding into soft, breathy chuckles as you twist to face him. The sparkle in his eyes is undeniable and you let him walk you backwards into the bathroom with the intention of piping you down again before finally letting you shower.
The late afternoon light filters through the half-closed blinds, casting warm, golden stripes across Javierâs bedroom. Youâre sprawled on his bed, your legs stretched out, absently flipping through a magazine.Â
The quiet creak of the bedroom door catches your attention, and your eyes lift to meet his.
He leans against the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame, arms crossed over his chest. His white t-shirt clings to his torso in a way that makes your thighs rub together, the fabric stretched taut over his solid build. Thereâs a small grin on his lips as he watches you.
âHey,â he drawls, finally pushing off the door and crossing the room.
âHi.â
Without hesitation, he climbs onto the bed, his weight shifting the mattress beneath you. He crawls toward you, settling his head on your lap and nuzzling against your stomach. You canât help but laugh softly, moving the magazine out of his way and onto the bedside table.
âYouâre comfortable,â you tease, your fingers threading through his thick hair, twisting a few strands absently around your finger.
His eyes flutter shut at your touch, a satisfied hum rumbling from his chest. âCanât help it. Iâve got the best pillow.â
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. âCan I help you?â
He opens one eye, peering up at you with a smirk. âI have a gift for you.â
Your brows lift, curious. âA gift?â
âMm-hmm,â he mutters against your skin, peppering your jawline with lazy, affectionate kisses. The bristle of his mustache has goosebumps curling over your skin. âTis the season.â He punctuates the sentiment with a playful nip at your neck, making you squeal softly before he pulls away.
âCome on,â he tugs gently at your hand and coaxes you off the bed.
You let him guide you into the kitchen, your bare feet padding against the cool floor. He pulls out a barstool, gesturing for you to sit as he reaches for something on the counter. With a small flourish, he places a travel magazine in front of you, flipping it open to a glossy spread.
Your eyes land on the page, and your breath catches. The images are of a stunning ski resort, nestled in snow-dusted mountains with cozy lodge interiors and breathtaking views of the slopes.
âYou didnâtâŚâ you whisper, your voice caught between disbelief and excitement.
His lips tug into a wolfish smile, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes as he watches the realization dawn on your face.
âYou didnât!â you exclaim, jumping up from the stool and throwing your arms around his neck.
Your momentum nearly topples him, but he steadies the both of you with a low chuckle.
Youâd mentioned it what feels like ages agoâa casual, offhand story about that ill-fated trip to the mountains with your college friends.
Everything about it had gone wrong. The busted gear, the unexpected blizzardâbut through all the chaos, youâd confessed how badly you still wanted to cross skiing off your bucket list.
And Javier remembered. Not just the story, but the way your eyes had lit up despite the unfortunate circumstances. Now here he is, ready to give you that second chanceâthe best do-over of all time, with him.
âI had to,â he murmurs by your ear. âSpending a week on a winter retreat with you seems a lot more fun than going home this year.â
You donât press about his family, knowing itâs a tricky subject. Instead, you let the moment settle, your heart swelling with gratitude for his thoughtfulness.
âYouâre the best,â you say between a flurry of kisses, peppering his face until his deep chuckle vibrates against your palms. His eyes crinkle at the corners, happiness radiating from him as he gazes down at you.
âThe best for you,â he replies softly. âYou deserve this, nena. Workinâ so hard all the time⌠I just wanted to give you somethinâ special.â
You shake your head, grinning so hard it hurts your cheeks. âDo you know how impossible itâs going to be to top this?â
He laughs, the sound rich and warm. âI wasnât expecting anything in return.â
âWhat kind of girlfriend would I be if I didnât get my man a gift?â Youâre already racking your brain for ideas. It has to be something meaningfulâsomething that feels right for him, not just a wallet or some cologne.
He pulls you onto his lap when he sits on the barstool, going over the details.Â
Everythingâs covered, he explainsâall you have to do is pack and show your pretty ass up. Your excitement bubbles over at the thought, visions of cozy lodge nights and snowy adventures filling your mind.
âGuess I need to go shopping,â you say, already making mental plans to call Connie for help picking out the perfect wardrobe.
Javi chuckles, leaning in to kiss your temple. âJust donât forget to pack a swimsuit.â
âA swimsuit? For a ski trip?â
He grins, his voice dropping to a low murmur. âHot tubs, nena. Trust me, I plan on having a lot of fun with you while weâre away.â
The resort feels like a dream you donât want to wake up from. Itâs only been a few days, and youâre already dreading your departure.
Javier really hadnât held back, booking a private cabin with sweeping views of the snow-kissed mountain horizon.
A real Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner of the living room, next to the fireplace, its lights twinkling softly against the glassy expanse of the giant windows that line the walls.
Despite the openness, the space feels warm and intimate, like it was made just for the two of you.
And then thereâs the hot tub. Nestled in the patio area overlooking the gorgeous scenery, it practically beckons you to defile it, steam curling up against the chilled glass.Â
Youâve been biding your time, waiting for the right moment to unveil the gift you have for him. Itâs actually kind of genius and the perfect way to help pull him out of his post-porn funk.Â
For now, though, youâre content to let the days unfold naturally, filled with skiing lessons, childish snowball fights outside your cabin, and lots of great sex.
The lift sways gently as it carries you and Javier up the mountain, the cool air biting at your cheeks, though you barely notice.
Your attention drifts to him, as it often doesâhis profile sharp and striking against the backdrop of the rising sun. The golden light casts a glow over the snowy peaks, painting the scene in colors too beautiful to let slip away.
You shift closer to him, the insulated fabric of your jacket brushing against his as you tilt your head to rest on his shoulder. His arm instinctively drapes across your lap, steadying you, his gloved hand giving your thigh a light squeeze.
âTake a picture with me,â your voice is eager, breaking the quiet hum of the lift.
Javier turns his head, a brow quirked beneath the edge of his snow goggles. âNow? On this thing?â
âYes, now.â Youâre already moving to pull the small camera out of your pocket. âThe view is perfect, and I want to remember this.â
He chuckles, leaning back slightly to give you space to situate the camera. âAlright, but if you drop it, donât start bitching at me.â
You roll your eyes, holding the camera up and adjusting the angle to capture the two of you against the sprawling mountains bathed in warm hues, making the snow sparkle.Â
You make sure to move both of your goggles so theyâre resting atop of your head, your faces on full display.
Javier tilts his head closer to yours, his hand slipping to your waist to pull you snug against him.
âSmile,â you say, though you know itâs unnecessaryâheâs already grinning, that playful smirk youâve come to adore on his pouty pink lips.
The camera clicks as you take a few photos. Smiling, him kissing your cheek, and you quickly check the screen once youâre finished, heart warming at the sight of the two of you.
âSee? Perfect.â You declare, showing him the pictures.
He glances at them, mirroring the same doting expression youâd just made. âYou make âem look perfect, nenita.â
As the lift continues to ascend, you find yourself watching him more than the scenery.Â
Itâs hard not to marvel at the layers to this man who had once driven you up the wall. You think back to when you first met himâhow easily youâd pegged him as cocky and self-centered, someone who wore his charm like a defense mechanism.
It feels surreal now, knowing how wrong you were. Javier wasnât just the confident pornstar that could command a room with just a look or a smile. He was thoughtful, protective, and deeply giving in ways that made your heart stutter. You canât fathom how someone like his ex would ever think about cheating on him.
Lost in thought, you donât realize youâve gone quiet until he glances down at you, brows knitting slightly.
âWhatâs on your mind, cariĂąo?â
âYou really surprise me, you know that?â
His expression shifts, the teasing edge softening into something more earnest. âSurprise you how?â
âI thought I had you all figured out when we first met.â
His mustache twitches as he bites back a knowing grin. âIn your defense, I didnât let you see more than that.âÂ
âYeah, I know...â You laugh lightly, shaking your head. âBut I couldnât have been more wrong. Youâre⌠so much more than I gave you credit for.â
Heâs quiet for a second, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. âGuess I should thank you for giving me a chance to prove you wrong.â
You lean in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, nose scrunching as the hairs of his mustache tickle you. âYouâve done more than just prove me wrong, Javi.â
The lift jerks slightly as it approaches the landing, but neither of you move right away. The world feels quieter here, suspended between earth and sky, just the two of you and the golden light.
âYouâre going to make me fall for you talkinâ like that.â
You feel warmth spreading in your chest at his words, wondering if itâs too soon to start catching feelings like this.
You smile against his mouth, not saying anything yet not needing to, before pulling back to move your face covering up and adjust your goggles back over your eyes in preparation to go down the snowy hill.
Your shoulders ache slightly from todayâs falls, but itâs the kind of soreness that feels goodâearned, but nevertheless annoying. Like now, as you pick yourself up from yet another fall, calling it quits.
âYou held out a lot longer than I expected.â Javier teases, his voice muffled by his face covering but still carrying that low, raspy timbre that makes your stomach flutter.
âShut up,â you grumble, and youâre glad he canât see the smile tugging at your lips.
You take him inâbundled up in his blue snow suit, goggles perched perfectly in place, his broad shoulders and confident stance somehow still exuding that effortless magnetism he carries everywhere.
Even out here, in the freezing cold, with his face obscured, he manages to look unfairly sexy.
Something about him always pulls you in. Maybe itâs the way his energy feels like gravity, anchoring you to every little thing he does. Or maybe itâs how even the simplest actsâlike standing on a snowy hillsideâbecome more vivid, more fun, more everything with him.
Your boots crunch through the snow, the skis clumsy but manageable. Heâs watching you, his stance casual, hands resting on his poles as if heâs been doing this his whole life.
He had picked up on this activity much quicker than you. The instructor even called him a naturalâbut youâre certain she was only saying that because she was attracted to him⌠which, honestly, fair.
âThis is your thing,â he says as you approach. âYouâre the one who wanted to cross this off your little list. Iâm just here for moral support... and to check you out in that suit.â
You burst out laughing, nearly stumbling again as you try to grab the poles youâd dropped when you fell over. âYou can barely see anything in this suit,â you shoot back, gesturing to the thick layers of waterproof fabric that make you feel more like a marshmallow than a person.
âBaby,â he drawls, stepping closer, âI could make out those tits and that ass under anything.â
You shake your head, warmth blooming across your cheeks. âYouâre such a fucking flirt,â you say, though your voice softens as his gloved hand reaches out to pull you to him.
âAnd yet, here you are,â he murmurs, leaning just close enough that you catch the mischievous glint in his eyes through the reflective goggles.
âHere I am.â
Youâre back at the general area where youâd first gotten your ski gear, adjusting your snow boots while Javier deals with returning your equipment.Â
The air is warm inside the lodge, a stark contrast to the crisp chill outside, and the hum of other skiers and snowboarders unwinding after their runs fills the space.
Youâre so focused on fastening a particularly stubborn buckle that the sound of your name catches you off guard.
Your head snaps up, brows furrowing, and there he is. Frankie.
Heâs making his way toward you, his strides familiar, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, and that lazy, warm smile plastered on his face like it hasnât been forever since you last saw him.
Your surprise must show because his grin widens slightly as he stops in front of the bench youâre sitting on.
âFrankie, wow, hey.â Your voice is polite, if a little flat.
He wastes no time, dropping down onto the bench beside you like itâs the most natural thing in the world. The sudden weight makes it creak, and though you subtly shift a little away, he either doesnât notice or doesnât care.
âSmall world.â Heâs looking at you with an easy kind of interest, eyes warm and familiar. You have a type. âDidnât know you were into skiing, hermosa. How have you been?â
Your stomach does a little flip at the damn nickname but you keep your expression neutral, returning your focus to lacing your second boot. âGreat, actually. Iâm trying it for the first time. Been taking lessons since we got here.â
His brow lifts, amused. âAnd howâs that going for you?â
You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you tug off your gloves. âIâve wiped out more times than Iâd care to admit.â
He chuckles, stripping off his own gloves, clearly in no rush.
âSo what brings you here?â The question feels innocent enough.
âTrip with the guys,â he answers, nodding his head in the direction of a group near a counter. You glance over and sure enough, you see the familiar faces from his circle, all caught up in their own conversation.
âSounds fun,â you offer, âHowâs Elliana? Not too happy her daddyâs missing Christmas, Iâm sure.â You smile teasingly, meaning no harm, but the flicker of something on his face makes you pause. His jaw tenses ever so slightly, and the way he drops his gaze feels telling.
âSheâs great. Actually, on a trip of her own with her mom and her... uh, new boyfriend.â
You catch the faint cringe he tries to hide as the explanation comes tumbling out. Your chest tightens in an uncomfortable way, not out of sympathy for him, exactly, but more at the reminder of why you two had split up to begin with.
Looks like his effort to âwork things outâ hadnât exactly panned out.
âGood for her,â you reply softly, though the exchange feels a little awkward now, like neither of you knows quite where to steer the conversation.
Frankie opens his mouth to say something else, maybe an apology for oversharing or another attempt at small talk, but before he can, you catch a glimpse of Javier weaving through the crowd.
Your heart lifts instantly, as if the room somehow brightens at the sight of him. His tall frame stands out, eyes scanning the lodge, clearly searching for you.
You donât give Frankie the chance to drag things out any further.
You quickly gather your things, standing as casually as you can. âI have to get going,â you announce, shouldering your bag. âEnjoy the rest of your stay, Frankie.â
He hesitates before he gives you a small nod. âFor sure. You too, hermosa. See you around.â
You give him a brief wave before turning and making your way to Javier, your boots thudding lightly against the floor.
His face lights up when he spots you, his gloved hand resting gently on your lower back once he pulls you to him.
âYou all set?â he asks, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. The simple affection melts away whatever oddness you felt lingering from your run-in with Frankie.
âYeah,â you reply, glancing up at him. He looks so effortlessly attractive, his cheeks pink from the cold and brown hair tousled from being under his hat. âIâm ready to get all cozy by the fire.â You purr the words a little, blinking up at him, and it works like a charm.
That sweet smile of his shifts into something sultry, and you donât miss the way his fingers curl slightly against your back.
âSounds like a plan to me.â His voice slipping into that seductive, honeyed tone that makes you wish you could fuck a voice. âLead the way, nena.â
The cocktail table feels like your personal island amidst the ebb and flow of the crowd, the muted hum of holiday music weaving through the air. Warmth blooms across your cheeks from the drinks youâve nursed through the night, and the haze only amplifies the rich sound of Javierâs laughter.
His hand rests on your lower back, fingertips brushing over the smooth, exposed skin where your dress dips low. The heat of his touch sears into you, enticing enough to have you arching into him.
You giggle as he leans in closer, his breath grazing your ear as he whispers something puckishly suggestive. âYou keep lookinâ at me like that and weâre not makinâ it back to the cabin without me pulling this dress off you.â
Your thighs press together instinctively and you bite down on your lip, tilting your head to look up at him, your eyes swimming with the shared heat between you. âDonât tempt me into letting you do it,â your words are a bit slurred from the alcohol, saturated with desire.
âOh, Iâm not looking to tempt you,â he murmurs, his hand sliding an inch lower. âIâm promising you.â
Your stomach flips, and the idea of staying out any longer feels suddenly impossible, the phantom touch of his hands and lips on you eclipsing all reason.
If there wasnât an audience, you know youâd already be on your knees with four inches in your mouth, trying to fit the other four like the needy little thing he reduces you to when he gets you all horny.
âSit tight, nena,â he says, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your lips. âGotta hit the restroom. When Iâm back, weâll settle up and get out of here.â
You nod, though your brain barely processes the words as your eyes follow him weaving through the throng of people, his presence polarizing even in his absence.Â
As you sip the last of your drink, your gaze shifts to the large windows lining the restaurant.Â
Even at night, the resort resembles something out of a postcard. The twinkling holiday lights outside illuminating the snow in festive tones. You let yourself sink into the magic of it all, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of your glass, a serene moment settling over youâuntil itâs promptly shattered.
âLook who it is,â a voice cuts through the ambient noise, pulling your attention.
Your head turns, and thereâs Frankie, his easy grin and brown eyes locked on you. Heâs not alone, three more figures flank himâSanti, Benny, and Will, each wearing varying degrees of amusement on their faces. The sight of them, clearly under the influence and rowdy, throws you a little.
âWeâve got to stop meeting like this,â Frankie quips, his voice carrying that raspy drawl you once found charming.
Your eyes narrow, your posture stiffening. âYou keep finding me, wouldnât necessarily call that meeting,â you acknowledge curtly, trying to keep your voice neutral.
âOnce he told us you were here, we couldnât pass up the chance to say hello,â Benny adds, his grin wolfish as he scans you from head to toe, and you can practically feel his gaze lingering on the dip of your dress. âWe miss having you around.â
You know these men. You spent enough time with them while dating Frankie to be able to place them all.
Santi, the smooth-talking charmer who always seems a little too pleased with himself. Benny, the loud, lovable wildcard who youâre sure has never taken anything seriously in his life. And Will, the quiet one with a piercing gaze that could unnerve anyone who wasnât used to it.
Theyâre a reminder of why you usually avoid military men. Sure, theyâre hot as hell, their confidence and strength undeniably attractive. But beneath that lies a mess of issuesâtrauma, control, and a certain recklessness that always seems to spill over into their romantic lives.
Frankie had been no different, but heâd wormed his way past your better judgment with that soft charm and rough-around-the-edges allure. And it didnât hurt that he was real fucking good at eating pussy.
Not as good as Javier, though.
You take a step back, your hand reflexively resting on the edge of the table as though to steady yourself. Their presence feels suffocating, a sharp contrast to the cozy, all consuming warmth youâd just shared with Javi.
âThatâs nice of you, but my boyfriend should be back any minute now...â
Thereâs a beat of silence as your words hang in the air, they exchange looks and you watch Frankieâs expression flickerâsomething almost smug crossing his features before itâs masked by a crooked smile. âBoyfriend, huh?â
Benny lets out a low whistle, leaning his forearms against the table top. âDidnât think anyone could tame Fishâs girl.â
âTame?â You shoot him a glare. âIâm not a fucking animal and certainly not his girl. Not for a while now. So you can all fuck off.â
They laugh at you and that only fires you up even more. Frankie slaps his hand on Bennyâs shoulder, shaking him slightly. âEase up man, she doesnât take any shit.â
Benny cocks his head, his eyes gleaming with drunken amusement. âWhich I think is hot. Definitely wouldnât have fumbled you like this asshole did. And you do porn?â Another low whistle and you swear your eye twitches.
Before you can respond, Santi jumps in, his smirk as infuriating as ever. âNo, no,â he says, shaking his head with mock seriousness. âCamera woman. Not actually a pornstar. Though,â he adds, now his turn to fuck you with his eyes, âI think youâd be a lot better in front of the camera, hermosa.â
âDonât call me that,â you snap, your patience wearing thin. You canât stay in this conversation any longer.Â
Santi raises his hands in false defense, his grin never faltering. Meanwhile, Will leans over to whisper something into his brotherâs ear, and you catch the shift in Bennyâs expression as he gives you a once-over, his gaze laced with something that makes your skin crawl.
You grip the glass in your hand tighter, seriously contemplating how much damage it could do.
âThings serious with your new man?â Frankie replaces Will across from you and you roll your eyes.
The audacity. âYes,â you say through gritted teeth. âVery.â You lean forward slightly, your voice dropping into a cutting tone. âIf I were you, Iâd leave before he gets back⌠or before I shove the stem of this glass down your throat.â
Their laughter rises again, whistling and being overly obnoxious about your reply, but you ignore it, your focus razor-sharp on your ex.
âWe had our time together, Frankie, and you decided to cut it short by going back to the mother of your child. Whatever, fine, shit happens, but now youâre acting like a real jerk. All of you are and I have no interest in continuing whatever the fuck this is, so, leave.â
You can tell your words hit their mark. Frankie has always respected your no-nonsense attitude, but being on the receiving end clearly doesnât sit well with him.Â
Just as you turn to remove yourself from this stifling mess altogether, Javier reappears.
Javier doesnât expect to come back and find four men crowding you, their broad shoulders and cocky stances cutting into your space like they own it. The sight stops him cold, but only for a second. Then his back straightens, his jaw locking tight as something territorial flares in his chest.
One of them catches his eye immediatelyâthe scruffy, stray-dog-looking motherfucker heâd recognize anywhere.
That damn Malibu shoot, the tipping point for all the change that came after. The memory of Frankie all over you, the obnoxious flirting, how you had played into it.
Then you left Robbieâs crew and he made his move, securing you as his girlfriend, getting exactly what he wanted.
Javier had no right to feel possessive when it happened, even though every fiber of his being had screamed at him to do something about it. Sure, you shared moments that left him restless and aching for more, but it wasnât enough to stake a claim, no matter how badly he wanted to, and you were so adamant about not wanting anything to do with him.
So, heâd done the only thing he couldâtold himself to get over it and buried the jealousy under layers of maintained indifference.
But now? Now youâre his girl. The first real, healthy relationship heâs had since Lorraine, and thereâs no way in hell heâs holding back about anything when it comes to you. Especially not when Frankie and his action-movie crew are standing there, eyeing you like youâre some trophy to win.
âWhatâs goinâ on?â His voice cuts through the noise of their conversation, sharp and unyielding as he closes the distance.
Heâs met with four pairs of eyesâtwo amused, one indifferent, and Frankieâs, which narrow slightly in recognition. Javier keeps his focus steady, his gaze hard as he takes them in.
His confidence has grown over the years, forged by his experiences and the praise from the industry. Yet, thereâs still that lingering thread of insecurity that twists in his gut as he watches Frankie make his indifference clear.
âWe were just catching up. Saying hello,â Frankie answers almost too casually, but his eyes gleam with something elseâa challenge.
Javier doesnât flinch. Instead, he steps closer to you, his hand finding your waist. âLooks like youâve said it. Time to move on.â
Beside Frankie, one of the men grins as if heâs enjoying the show. âEasy, man,â he says, his tone teasing. âWeâre just being friendly.â
Javierâs jaw ticks, a muscle in his cheek jumping as his grip on you tightens slightly. âFriendly looks more like crowding someone who doesnât want to talk to you.â
While youâve never gone into detail about what you had with Frankie, the updates Javier had gotten from Steve are enough to stir doubts. Words like satisfied are currently resurfacing to make him question things he knows arenât true.
These men are something he isnât. And even though youâre together now, thereâs a small, irrational part of him that wonders if one day youâll realize he isnât what you want.
Itâs not that he doesnât trust youâhe does, with everything heâs got. But being cheated on leaves wounds that never fully close, scars that ache at the worst times. And seeing Frankie standing there, beaming like he still has a chance, stirs something primal in Javier.
âNo need to get territorial, PeĂąa. We were just having a little fun. BesidesâŚâ He trails off, his gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Javier. âShe can handle herself.â
Javierâs blood boils, his free hand twitching at his side. It would take so littleâa single punch to wipe that smug look off his face. But then your hand is on his chest, soft and grounding.
âItâs fine. I was just telling them to leave.âÂ
Frankieâs gaze lingers on you in a look he recognizes all too well because he looks at you in the same goddamn way, and that has his vision tunneling.
âNo harm done,â He steps back with exaggerated nonchalance. But then he throws one last barb over at you. âWeâll catch up some other time, hermosa.â
Javier doesnât think, words slipping out before he can stop them. âNo, the fuck you wonât. In fact, if I see any of you bother her again, I wonât hesitate to kick your ass.â
âYeah? Iâd like to see you try.â
For a moment it looks like things might escalate. But one of the other menâblonde, with a calmer air about himâsteps in.
âAlright, boys,â he says, reaching out to pull his friend back. âLetâs not make a scene.â
Frankie hesitates, his jaw tightening, but he relents with a roll of his eyes. âWhatever.â
Javier watches them retreat, his heart still pounding, until theyâre out of sight. Only then does he let his shoulders drop slightly.
âHey,â you say gently, tilting your head to catch his gaze. âYou okay?â
âI didnât like that one fucking bit,â he mutters, his voice rough.
Your smile is gentle, reassuring, and you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek which melts him immediately. âThey donât matter,â you whisper, your lips brushing his skin. âYouâre the only one I care about.â
The words ease the last of the tension, and Javier lets out a breath, pulling you close. âDamn right,â his tone softens as he presses a kiss to your temple.
âLetâs get out of here,â you suggest, a small mischievous smile on your face, âYour gift is waiting for you back at the cabin.â
Itâs as if the entire confrontation is forgotten at your words and he becomes intrigued immediately. âOh yeah? Then what the fuck are we doinâ still standing here. Letâs go.â
âAre your eyes closed?â
Javier leans against the armrest of the couch, his lips curving into a small smile as your voice carries from the bedroom.
âYeah,â he replies, shifting slightly, his eyes obediently shut.
âYouâre not lying to me?â
âNo.â He chuckles, the deep, easy sound rumbling from his chest.
Thereâs the faint shuffle of movement, and then he feels youâthe subtle electricity that always seems to spark when youâre near.
His hands are cupped in front of him as instructed, his curiosity piqued. He has no idea what youâve planned, no inkling of whatâs coming.
Honestly, he canât believe you actually got him anything. The trip itself has been more than enoughâa week of unfiltered joy, amazing sex, and waking up to you in his arms. If that isnât a gift in itself, then what is?
Then youâre standing in front of him, placing something in his hands. He feels the cool weight of it, the texture of smooth plastic beneath his fingertips.
âOkay, you can open them now.â
Javierâs eyes flutter open, immediately drawn to the object cradled in his palms. Itâs a handheld camcorder, a glossy red ribbon tied around it like the finishing touch on a present. His brows knit together in brief confusion, but before he can ask, you fill in the blanks.
âI want us to make a tape together, Javi.â
Your words hit him like a freight train. No, they hit his cock like a freight train, and the damn thing stirs to life before his brain even fully registers the meaning.
âYou naughty little thing,â he murmurs, his voice dropping into that gravelly tone that always gets a rise out of you.
You bite your lip, a playful giggle escaping. âI figured itâd be something fun for us,â you say, stepping closer until he can smell the faint traces of your perfume. âPlus⌠I really like how you fuck on camera. Not that itâs any different from what we do, butâŚâ
You trail off with a small, breathy moan that makes Javierâs restraint snap. He sets the camera carefully on the couch before pulling you closer, his hands gripping the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric in his fists as he pulls you between his knees.
âButâŚ?â he prompts, his lips finding the curve of your neck. He kisses, nips, and licks, each touch of his mouth drawing little gasps from you. You taste divine, every inch of you always does.
âBut itâs different,â you breathe, your fingers digging into his biceps as his teeth graze your skin. âI want to experience what all those other stars do when shooting a scene with you.â
His lips crash against yours, the kiss heated and possessive. He can taste the remnants of the cocktails you had at dinner, but more than that, he tastes you.
The memory of those old sets pales in comparison to the thought of filming with you.
âIâm all yours, nena,â he growls against your lips, his hands slipping lower to slap your ass then gripping onto the flesh. âThis is a brilliant fucking idea. Iâve been telling you how hot youâd look on camera. How do you want to do this?â
Your smile is roguish, your confidence intoxicating. âI want us to take turns filming... directing⌠Wanna get some good shots of me sucking your cock.â
Your hand trails down his arm, skimming over the muscles there, then lower to pinch his hip before you palm his erection through his pants, his hips jerking involuntarily as he grunts.
âAnd I definitely need footage of that tongue of yours working my pussy,â you add, your tone sultry. âWeâll figure the rest out as we go. I want to start in the hot tub.â
Javier swears under his breath, his head tilting back slightly as your touch sends a fresh wave of desire through him. âYouâre gonna be the death of me,â he mutters, voice thick with need.
You smile, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away, leaving him half-dazed and completely aroused. âGet changed and take the camera outside. Iâll join you once I put on my costume.â
âCostume?â His brows arch in curiosity as his eyes track your retreating form.
âCostume might be pushing it. Itâs something to set the tone for the amateur vibe I want this to have. Even if we know what weâre doing.â
âWhatever you want,â heâs so desperate to take you, âIâm going to tear you the fuck up.â
You blow him a kiss, your giddiness as palpable as his.Â
Javier watches you disappear into the bedroom, letting out a long breath as he stands and moves to his bag which you had purposefully, he realizes, brought out before leaving for dinner.
He pulls out his swim trunks, quickly changing and grabbing the camera again. He canât help the simper pulling at his lips as he removes the ribbon and flits through the settings, familiarizing himself with it.
Javier slides open the patio door, the soft scrape of the glass breaking the stillness of the night. A cool breeze rushes in, sharp against his skin, but itâs a refreshing contrast to the heat coursing through his veins.
The glow of the string lights overhead reflects off the rippling water of the hot tub. They frame the scene perfectly, tiny stars encircling what already feels like a secluded slice of paradise.
He steps out onto the wooden deck, the chill biting at his bare chest and legs. A small shiver runs through him, but itâs chased away the moment he dips into the steaming water. The heat rises to meet him, coiling around him like an inviting embrace.
Javier lowers himself deeper into the tub, the warmth spreading instantly, soothing muscles. The jets hum to life with the press of a button, sending gentle ripples across the surface. Another tap, and the colorful lights beneath the water bloom, shifting from deep blue to vivid green, then a lurid red.
He leans back against the edge, one arm stretched casually along the rim, the other cradling the camcorder.
The setting is perfectâintimate, cozy, and alive with the kind of cinematic allure thatâs been a part of his life for so long. Only this time, itâs personal. This time, itâs with you.
âAlright, Iâm coming out,â your voice calls from inside, and Javierâs pulse spikes as if his body already knows itâs about to be wrecked.Â
He shifts in the water, the tent in his briefs straining beneath the surface. His fingers move automatically, adjusting his grip on the camcorder, raising it to eye level, his thumb brushing over the small record button.
âReady whenever you are,â he says, his voice a little lower, raspier. Â
Through the steamy glass, he tracks your shadowy movements, catching fleeting glimpses of red that tease him to the point of madness.
The condensation and reflections blur the details, but it only adds to the attraction. He can feel his heart thudding against his ribs, a primal drumbeat that matches the ache in his cock. Â
And then you step out, framed by the sliding door like a vision he couldnât conjure even in his wildest fantasies. Â
âFuck me.â
The red bikini bottoms sit high on your hips, the delicate ties framing your curves like artwork. That vivid, sinful shade of red makes your skin seem to glow, the contrast leaving him weak.
In one hand is a bottle of champagne, the other holding two flutes, and his tongue pokes against his cheek at how festive youâre being.
He zooms in with the camera, starting at your legs then capturing every dip and swell of your thighs, the plushness he knows so well.
The lens follows up, slowly drinking in the soft curve of your stomach, lingering over the way your tits press against the satin ribbon wrapped around them like a present heâs dying to open. The bow tied between your cleavage looks precarious, like it might unravel at the slightest tug.
The silky fabric is no match for the chill in the air, your hardened nipples poking through in a way that makes his tongue twitch in his mouth at the thought of flitting it over the stiffened peaks.Â
But then his gazeâand the lensâfinds your face, and itâs game over. Your lips are parted, plump and glistening as you lick them, the slight haze in your eyes a telltale sign of the alcohol still swimming in your veins. Your lashes frame your eyes perfectly, their sparkle teasing him as if daring him to lose control. Â
His mind is already racing ahead, imagining the way those lips will part as you take his cock into his mouth, the way your head will tilt back when he suckles at your clit, or how your eyes will roll into your skull when heâs buried deep inside your tight cunt.
âYou look so fucking good. Shit,â he breathes, his voice shaky. The camcorder threatens to tremble in his hand as he refocuses on you, watching you strike playful poses against the doorframe, snowflakes getting caught in your hair.
Each one is more tantalizing than the last, and when you bend over to show him your sweet ass, he zooms in on how the red fabric outlines your pussy.
âThank you,â you purr, your voice smooth and syrupy as you turn and saunter toward the tub, setting the drink and glasses aside. You exaggerate the sway of your hips, fully aware of the effect you have on him, and itâs almost too much.
Heâs never had a woman make him feel this way.
Javier keeps the camera trained on you, his years of expertise blending seamlessly with his overwhelming desire to immortalize this moment.
The way the light dances off your skin, the ripple against your flesh as you move sensually, your smileâitâs all so perfectly you.
For a moment, he forgets the camera is even there. Every inch of you seems made for him, like a custom design he never dreamed heâd be lucky enough to have.
When you finally join him, stepping into the steaming water, his restraint frays to a thread. Heâs gripping the camcorder like itâs the only thing keeping him from lunging at you.
âYouâre teasing me, baby,â he rasps as he films you lowering yourself into the tub. Â
âI know,â you reply with a flirty smile. âBut donât you love it?â Â
âToo much,â he shifts his legs to relieve some of the pressure at his crotch, though itâs futile. Heâs already undone, and the nightâs only just begun.Â
âKeep posing, like you did by the door,â Javier instructs while his dark eyes remain fixed on you, not the viewfinder. Capturing this for later is one thing, but experiencing it now is something he wants seared into his memory for the rest of his life.
âFlirt with the camera using those beautiful eyes, nena.â
You bite your lip, your lashes lowering as you tilt your head, blinking slowly at the lens. You know exactly what to do, and he guesses this comes from watching the other stars do it on set.
The result is undeniably erotic. Knowing that youâve never done it before like this, yet exude such natural talent, makes the moment infinitely hotter.
The water kisses your skin, glistening under the string lights and making every curve gleam like a jewel. You shift your weight, cocking your hip, arching your backâitâs fluid, seductive. Droplets of water run over your tits and how badly does he want to reach out and lick at them.
He will, he just wants to get enough footage of just you being so damn sexy.
You move with languid grace, tilting your head just so, and then giggling as you reach for the champagne. The sound is rousing, making his cock twitch.
You curl your finger, beckoning him closer, and he obeys without hesitation, the camera steady in his hands as he floats toward you.Â
You pour the golden liquid into your glass, bringing it to your lips with a playful flick of your tongue along the rim, a teasing preview of whatâs to come.
When you tilt your head back, letting the bubbly glide past your lips, your throat moves with every swallow and he makes sure to let the shot linger there, fixated.
âMmm,â the sound is a decadent hum that has his teeth sinking into his lower lip. âTastes so good.â
âYouâre so fuckinâ pretty, baby,â he growls, his large hand reaching up to cradle your jaw. His thumb brushes over your cheek, warm and damp under his touch, before sinking his fingers into the soft skin. âLook at how gorgeous my girl is.â
He angles your face toward the camera, showing you off like a precious work of art. You go pliant under his touch, your eyes locking on the lens as you bring the glass to your lips again, deliberately spilling the champagne, letting it cascade over your jaw and his waiting fingers, trickling down his wrist in a sticky, sparkling trail.
âOops,â you say, your tone dripping with false innocence. Lowering your head, your tongue darts out, tracing the line of champagne from his pulse point up to his fingers.
You take the tip of his finger into your mouth, sucking lightly, swirling your tongue around the pad before releasing it with a wet, lingering kiss.
âDios mĂo,â Javier groans, his hips shifting as his swollen cock brushes against your thigh. The soft gasp that escapes you only feeds his need. âPretty and dirty. A real fuckinâ star.â
His hand trails lower, abandoning your face to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over the damp fabric before tugging at it, unraveling it completely.Â
The cool air kisses your skin just before his touch follows, warm and possessive. He doesnât askâJavier never does when it comes to adoring you; he just takes, knowing how much you love it.
Especially when he plays with your tits.
You shake them playfully, the soft, bouncing motion making him snarl, the sound rumbling low in his chest.
âFuck,â he hisses, his hand kneading your flesh, his thumb brushing over your nipple before he pinches it just hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from your lips.
His eyes flicker to the viewfinder, ensuring the camera catches every detail as he lavishes attention on you, pinching and rolling your puckered tips between his fingers until youâre squirming against him.
âGive me the camera,â you breathe through soft whimpers, reaching for it. He hands it over without a second thought, his hands lingering on yours as he relinquishes the device.Â
The power shifts, and you waste no time, pointing the lens at him. âSuck on my tits, Javi,â you coo, each word laced with seduction, and his reaction is immediate.
He pulls you against him, your bodies slick with the heat and bubbles of the water, his hard cock pressing insistently between your thighs. His mouth finds your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he sucks it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you whine.
Your free hand tangles in his damp hair, guiding his head and angling his face for the camera as he lavishes attention on you. The viewfinder captures everything: the way his lips move, how his tongue circles your areola, the glistening trail of water droplets and his spit on your skin.
His mouth moves to your other breast to do the same, sucking harder this time.
âSo good, baby,â your voice trembles with pleasure. âYouâre so good to me.â
He chuckles low against your chest, relishing in your praise and how heâs able to make you react.
His large hands slide up, cupping your breasts as he pushes them together, burying his face between them and motorboating you. The deep, playful groan he lets out makes you laugh breathlessly behind the camera.
âPass me the champagne,â Javi murmurs, his lips brushing your collarbone.
You loosen your hold on his hair, reaching for the bottle. The moment itâs in his hands, he tilts it back for a quick swig, the liquid catching the light as it drips from the corner of his mouth.
He pours a generous stream over your chest, the cool champagne trickling down the valley of your breasts. His tongue is quick to chase it, licking and sucking every drop, his movements rougher now, hungrier.
You adjust the camera, your arm stretched out to capture the way his mouth trails up to your neck, nipping and kissing as if he canât get enough.
The wet, desperate sounds of your kisses fill the air, drowning out the gentle hum of the hot tub jets.
Itâs messy, all tongue and teeth, as if heâs trying to consume you entirely.
Javier takes the camera back without breaking the kiss, adjusting the angle to film the way your lips move against his. His free hand grips your waist, guiding the both of you backward until his body presses against the tubâs edge.Â
Snowflakes drift in on the breeze, clinging to your hair and his, melting instantly against your heated skin.
âYou gonna be a good girl and show the camera how much you love my cock? How good you are at taking him down your throat?â he asks, his voice thick with lust, his lips brushing against your ear.
He zooms in on how your mouth parts in an eager smile.
âYes,â you breathe, nodding with unrestrained excitement.
Javier lifts himself onto the tubâs edge, the chill in the air biting at his skin, but he doesn't care, not with the way his excitement overrides any of his discomfort. His legs remain submerged, spreading wide to give you space.
You move between them, the warm water lapping at your waist as your hands trail up his legs, your fingers kneading the firm muscle.
âIâll make it extra good for you today, baby,â you promise, and he knows you mean every word.
He lifts his hips up to help you pull down his trunks, his erection bobbing free from its constraints. Javier hisses as the cool air hits him, but itâs quickly soothed when you wrap your fingers around his shaft and he groans, your softer touch feeling like fucking heaven.
You stroke him a few times, and the visual of you jerking his cock while the bubbles from the jets flutter around your bod has him tightening his grip on the camera.
As he watches you, he knowsâhe wouldnât change a single thing about what got you here.
Not the fights, not the doubts, not the messy way you two stumbled into this, because every moment led to this one.
You hum, looking up at him through your lashes, giving the camera a flirty wink before your tongue darts out to kitten lick at his weeping tip, his skin flushed a devious red.
You start slowly, teasing the sensitive skin of his spongy head, swirling around it and tasting the saltiness of the precum that beads at the slit. He sucks in a sharp breath, his free hand tangling in your hair to guide you closer.
âSo fucking perfect.â
Your eyes twinkle at the praise, taking him deeper, your lips stretching around his girth. The camera captures every secondâhis cock disappearing into your mouth, the way your cheeks hollow as you suck, the slick sounds of your efforts filling the air.
Javierâs hips jerk, unable to hold still as you bob your head, your tongue working him over. Drool slips from the corners of your lips, mixing with the water from the tub as you take him as deep as you can, gagging, the messy display making him curse under his breath.
âFuck, baby,â he groans, his voice breaking. âYouâre so goddamn good at this.â
You moan around him, the vibration making his grip in your hair tighten. You pull back to catch your breath, your hand stroking him while your tongue laves attention along the underside of his shaft, tracing every pulsating vein.
âMessy little thing,â he murmurs, the camera focusing on the spit shining his cock, dripping from your chin as you smile wickedly up at him.
âI like it messy,â you reply, your voice a foxy, hoarse purr before you take him back into your mouth, sucking harder, faster, the wet, obscene sounds driving him closer to finishing.
The camera feels heavier in his hand as he adjusts the focus, trying to capture every detail of this moment, but his heart beats faster when he realizes the truth: no recording, no photo, nothing tangible could ever truly do justice to what he feels right now. Itâs more than physical. Itâs more than lust.
Itâs her. Sheâs it. Sheâs everything.
As if reading his mind, your gaze flicks up to meet his, and you fucking smile with his cock in your mouth.
He exhales a shaky breath, barely holding on to his composure when you release him with an audible pop and trail your tongue down his length. The hand pumping him doesnât slow, but your mouth finds his inner thigh then his balls, licking and biting just enough to make his leg tense under you.
âWhere do you want to come, Javi?â Your voice is a soft, breathy rasp, and his whole body reacts to the sound of it. Your hand moves faster, and heâs unable to form an answer before you stop abruptly, making him curse under his breath.
âIn my hand?â Your grip tightens around his cock.
âGoddammit,â his frustration turns to a low, guttural noise when you lower your mouth and tap the tip of his cock against your tongue.
âOr on my tongue?â The slick glide of your lips as you tease him is pure torture, but youâre not done. You push your chest forward, letting his dick slap against the humps of your tits.
âMaybe all over these?â Your voice is sweet, almost playful, but your intentions are anything but. The sight of his cock glistening against your skin, the jiggle of your flesh under his weight, makes his vision blur for a second.
âOr are you going to hold it in and fill my pussy?â
The way you say it, so casually filthy, sends a jolt of arousal through him. He bites down hard on his lip, every muscle in his body tightening. Youâve always had a mouth on you, but thisâthis is something else entirely.
Your confidence, the way youâve grown into yourself since being with him, sends a surge of pride through his chest.Â
âBaby, Iâm going to fuck you so full of my cum youâll be tasting it for fucking weeks.â
Your breathless giggle is music to his ears, and when you lean in to kiss his cock, licking over the tip, his control shatters.
âCâmere,â he sneers, pulling you up into a heated kiss. His mouth is desperate, his teeth scraping against your lips. He adjusts, submerging himself back into the water, being mindful of the device, and pulling your back flush against his chest.
He angles the lens to capture the way your bodies press together, the steam from the water curling around you both. The viewfinder is flipped and shows your damp hair sticking to your face, his lips dragging over the curve of your neck.
âLook at how good we look,â he murmurs, his voice a low rasp against your ear as his hand palms your breast, squeezing roughly.
A smile splits your face, drunk on the taste of his cock and the alcohol. Slowly, you shift on your toes, bending forward just enough to tease him with the curve of your ass, playfully wiggling it as you rub his cock between your cheeks.
âCome fuck me, Javi.â
âJesus fucking Christ,â he breathes, bringing the camera lower to capture the way the bubbles skim over the curve of your body. He smacks each cheek, the sound sharp against the steady hum of the jets, and you huff, arching even more.
When he pulls at the strings of your bikini bottoms, letting the fabric fall away, he curses under his breath. âMierda,â he hisses, his hand kneading your supple flesh before gripping the base of his cock and slapping it against your skin.Â
He canât help but grin as he shows off for the camera.
When he slides himself along your slick folds, he groans, feeling how wet you are for him. âDamn, suckinâ me off gets you this turned on, nena?â he asks, breathless.
You let out a needy whimper, nodding as your hips push back against him.
He doesnât make you wait, sinking into you with a grunt thatâs half your name and half prayer. The way your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, makes him swear under his breath as he sets a rhythm that sends water spilling over the edge of the tub.
âOh, Javi, oh fuck!â Your voice is loud, shameless, and he loves every filthy syllable of it.
âYou like that, huh?â he growls, slowing his thrusts to drag his cock out of you torturously slow, the tight suction of your pussy making him grit his teeth.
âGorgeous fucking pussy doesnât want to let me go,â he mutters, angling the camera to capture the way your body takes him so perfectly, the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you echoing around you.
He licks his lips, the phantom taste of your tangy sweetness haunting them, and the thought of you spread out while he loses himself in eating you out burns through him like fire.
The way you whimper in protest when he pulls out is enough to make him consider sinking back into your tight, sopping heat, but he reins himself in. Instead, his hand comes down on your ass, the sharp crack echoing in the chilled night air.
âNone of that. Letâs move this party inside. I need to taste you.â
You bite your lip, shivering from the combination of his words and the cold air biting at your damp skin.Â
Both of you are dripping water as you climb out of the hot tub, the biting chill of the night air wraps around you, sending goosebumps racing across your skin.
Javier notices, of course he does, and he drags his hands over your arms, a fleeting attempt at warming you before snagging the nearest towel.
âCâmere, nena,â he mutters, pulling you close. The towel is large, but his hands are clumsy as he rubs it over your body. The motion is both tender and hurried, his fingers lingering on the curves of your hips, your nice tits, and the slick heat between your thighs. âCanât have you catching a cold now, can we?â
You giggle, your teeth chattering as you take the camera from him as he brings you inside. You stumble over the threshold, recording every imperfect second.
The contrast between the icy air outside and the inviting heat of the cabin is immediate, the crackling fireplace casting a golden glow across the room.
Javier wastes no time, pulling you toward the plush rug in front of the flames. You lay on your back, taking a moment to admire your boyfriend.
Heâs a masterpiece carved by desire, every part of him sculpted to make you ache.
You handle the camera in your hands, the viewfinder framing Javier like the sex god that he is. Youâre practically purring as the lens lingers on his thighs and how they flex subtly when he shifts his weight.
The camera pans higher and you feel that insistent heartbeat at your pussy.
His cock stands heavy and proud, the firelight casting shadows along his delicious length and girth. Heâs gorgeousâthick veins trailing up velvety skin, the head angry and eager to punch into your cunt, his balls heavy with the load heâs already promised to fill you full of.
Continuing your digital ascent, you capture the sharp planes of his torso, his golden-brown skin glowing in the warmth of the flames. His chest rises and falls with slow, steady breaths.
Finally, you settle the shot on his lips, looking plush under that sexy ass mustache. They have ruined you time and time again with words, kisses, and the way they dote on every part of you.
âHeâs so fucking good at using those.â You whisper to the camera.
âYou done admiring?â He asks with playful arrogance, as if he hadnât been absolutely eating up every reaction you had given to the body heâs sculpted into a living, breathing fantasy
âNever.â
He leans down to kiss you, sticky precum brushing against your lower stomach. Slyly, he takes the device from your hands, now his turn to marvel at you.
His lips part slightly as he looks at you, the flames illuminating every curve and dip of your body, painting you in shades of gold and amber.
âMost beautiful woman Iâve ever seen.â
You bite your lip, your cheeks heated under his gaze. Javier adjusts the angle, zooming in on the way your thighs press together, craving him again.
âSpread your legs for me, nena.â
You hesitate, suddenly shy under the intensity of his gaze, but he makes it impossible to deny him when he looks at you like this.
Slowly, you part your legs, exposing yourself to him fully.
âGoddamn,â Javier growls, his free hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, his calloused fingers trailing to where youâre still sticky with arousal from how heâd taken you outside. He uses his thumb to spread open one of your pussy lips, revealing your pretty cunt to the camera, his thumb pressing down on your clit, smearing your juices around.
âYou know how perfect you are?â he asks, his voice low as he sets the camera down at the perfect angle to capture what heâs about to do next. âEvery fucking inch of you drives me crazy.â
Javier leans over you, his lips trailing down your neck to the hollow between your breasts. His hands spread you open further, his breath hot against your skin as he settles himself between your thighs.
You shudder as his lips press against your inner thigh, sinewy fingers keeping you spread open so the camera gets a good view of his tongue doing what it does best between your legs.
The fire crackles beside you, but itâs nothing compared to the heat of his mouth as he begins to devour you, his tongue and lips coaxing soft moans and gasps from your lips.
He doesnât rush. He takes his time, savoring every sound you make, every tremble of your body. He pulls back briefly, some of your slick clinging to his lips, just long enough to grab the camera again, angling it to capture your flushed face and the way your body arches toward him before handing it over to you.
You almost drop it from how fucking lightheaded heâs left you, but manage to hold onto it, doing your best to record this handsome man going down on you.
âNo one else gets to see you like this. Just me.â
The possessiveness in Javierâs voice is laced with an edge of jealousy, a dark fire stoked by earlier moments that now claw their way back into his mind. Flashes of other men crowding you, eyeing whatâs his, swirl in his thoughts, blending with images of you and Frankie tangled in your sheets.Â
The thought ignites a growl deep in his chest. His fingers grip your thigh harder, nails biting into your skin as he buries his face between your legs with renewed intensity.Â
His tongue swirls and flicks over your clit, his lips sealing around the swollen nub with a pressure that makes your toes curl.
Heâs punishing those images, driving them out by proving how thoroughly you belong to him.
âJust you, Javi, no one else,â you gasp, your back arching off the plush rug. With one hand on the device, your other lets its fingers twist into his thick brown hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt against your slick heat.
The vibrations ripple through you, sending you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering with anticipation.
Youâre closeâhe feels it in the way your thighs shake, the way your breath stutters. Determined to pull you over the edge, he buries his face deeper, his nose nudging your clit as he shakes his head back and forth.
The scratch of his mustache against your tender flesh only intensifies your pleasure, and when his lips seal around your swollen clit and he sucks harshly, it shatters you.
âOh my God, Javier!â you scream, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through you, the camera shaking violently in your hand. The heat of the nearby flames amplifies your euphoria, sweat beading on your skin.
âPussy tastes so fuckinâ delicious,â his voice is muffled but heavy with want. Javier has always loved going down on women, but thereâs something about youâyour taste, your scent, the way your body responds to himâthat drives him wild.Â
His cock thrums painfully, desperate for relief. Heâs grinding against the rug without even realizing it, his need to claim you consuming every thought.
Even as your thighs twitch in the aftermath of your orgasm, he laps up every drop, greedy for more, his tongue sweeping over your oversensitive flesh until youâre gasping and squirming beneath him. Only then does he pull away, his lips and chin glistening with your essence.
Taking the camera again, he points it at you, capturing the sight of you sprawled across the rug, utterly spent. Your chest rises and falls, your eyes half-lidded with bliss.
âÂżTodo bien, nena?â he asks, gingerly yet smugly satisfied.
âMhm,â you hum, stretching languidly under his touch. âJust need a minute.â
He strokes your face, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips and you kiss the rough pad softly.Â
Wordlessly, he adjusts the lens, zooming in on your face, capturing the blissed-out expression that is all his doing. It makes him want to kiss you, so he does, bending down, his lips brushing yours in a smoldering liplock.
âSuch a good kisser, Javi.â You chase after his mouth when he pulls away, bringing your hands up to cradle his face to keep your lips on his. He lets you, lost in the feeling in the same way you are, that poor camera idly recording the blur of your moving heads.
When he does finally pull back, he moves with purpose, setting up the camera on the coffee table, his fingers steady despite the heat thrumming through his veins.
He flips the viewfinder to showcase the two of you, positioning it to capture the perfect scene: the crackling fireplace, the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, the snow-kissed mountains visible through the frosted window, bathed in the silver moonlight.
The setup is a masterpiece, the kind of shot youâd call pure art. Youâve teased him about this beforeâhow his talent for making things look so effortlessly beautiful extends even to his most smutty creations.
When Javier returns to you, his breath hitches. Youâre stretched out on the rug, naked as the day you were born, your skin kissed by the soft illumination of the Christmas lights. You look up at him with a cheeky grin that makes his chest tighten and his cock throb.
âHey, baby,â you say, your voice teasing yet soft, inviting him closer.
âHi,â he murmurs back, his own lips shifting into a smile that mirrors yours.
He lowers himself to you again, cradling your jaw as if youâre the most delicate, precious thing heâs ever touched. âYou havinâ fun?â
âSo much,â you reply with a laugh thatâs pure music to his ears. Your teeth catch his lower lip playfully, and your hand sneaks down between you, wrapping around his pulsating cock. The sound he lets out vibrates against your lips, and the look in his eyes is molten.
âNow fuck me full, Javi,â you whisper, your words bold and needy, a demand heâs more than eager to fulfill.
His hands are on you in an instant, pulling you up and shifting your body until youâre perfectly centered in the shot.
You look like a vision, his personal angel.
Javier kneels behind you, his strong hands gripping your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin just hard enough to leave marks heâll admire later.
His cock teases your entrance, the slick head gliding over your swollen clit, and you mewl, your body quivering with anticipation. He watches, mesmerized, as you arch your back for him, offering yourself up completely.
Slowly, he sinks into you, savoring the way your walls envelop him, the tightness making him hiss through his teeth.
His grip tightens as he thrusts deeper, the stretch and fullness making you sob. The sound shoots straight to his cock, and he growls low in his throat, his hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt.
Your cries rise in pitch as he sets a brutal rhythm, each powerful thrust sending your tits bouncing uncontrollably.Â
Javier leans back slightly, angling his body just so, ensuring the camera captures every detailâthe way your pussy clenches and drips around his cock and how obscene the sounds of your bodies joining echo in the cabin.
His nose skims the side of your neck, his breath hot against your damp skin. He bites down gently, soothing the sting with his tongue, before whispering filthy promises into your ear, each word making you tighten around him.
âYou were made for me,â he declares, âThis tight pussy, fuck, no one else gets to feel how perfect she is. Just me. All mine.â
Something about being inside you triggers this untamed passion in him, an insatiable desire that no amount of good fucking can quench.
Heâs relentless, taking and taking, chasing the pleasure that only you can give him. The thought of you creaming all over his cock, screaming his name, and begging for more while teetering on the edge of oblivion has him thrusting harder, deeper.
No one else has ever felt like thisâlike home and sin wrapped into one. Fucking you is better than anything heâs ever known.
It doesnât even have to be elaborate or kinkyâthough he certainly doesnât mind. He loves it all, from nights like this to the slow, sleepy mornings when he wakes you by sliding his cock into your warm, welcoming body, loving the way you melt against him with soft sighs.
Now, though, itâs anything but slow. His hips piston up into you, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust, and youâre crying out his name like a prayer.
âDo you trust me?â he asks, his voice rough in your ear as his pace falters momentarily.
Youâre too lost in the haze of bliss to respond right away, your whimpers spilling from your lips in broken waves. Javier slows, grinding into you, letting the friction bring you back to him.
âI said, do you trust me?â he repeats, his tone firmer.
âY-Yes,â you stammer, your voice a breathy plea as your pussy clenches around him.
A dark, satisfied smirk spreads across his face. âIâm gonna put you in a headlock, baby. Keep you right where I want you while I tear this pretty pussy up like I promised.â
You mewl, the sound making his cock twitch inside you. He nips at your ear, his breath fanning against your skin.Â
âIf itâs too much, tap me three times, okay?â His voice softens slightly, a thread of tenderness weaving through the raw desire.
You nod eagerly, your voice trembling as you beg, âPlease, Javi.â
When you turn your head to look at him, the vulnerability and trust in your eyes make his heart clench. Fuck, I love her.
Without another word, he surges forward to kiss you messily, his lips claiming yours as he loops a strong arm around your neck. The position pulls you flush against his chest, your back arching as he adjusts his knees, locking you into place.
âIâll start slow, get that pussy purring,â he teases, his breath hot against your ear.
His cock drags against your walls, unhurried, and you shiver as he finds that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.
âRight there,â you gasp, your voice hitching as your body tightens around him.
âYeah, you like that, donât you?â he groans, his arm tightening just enough to make your head swim in the most delicious way.
With a growl, he picks up his pace, pounding into you with enough force to get your body jolting against his. The rug beneath you rubs raw at your knees, each wet slap of his cock driving into your soaked pussy sending ripples of heat through your core.
Javier watches the way your body reacts to him from the viewfinder across the way. âThatâs it, nena,â he clenches his teeth, his own release building as he claims you over and over again. His large fingers move from your hips down to toy with your clit. âTake it all. Take every. Fucking. Inch.â
Your hands shoot up to grip Javierâs arm, manicured nails biting into his flesh and leaving streaks of angry red lines down the muscled curve. The sting only fuels him, a feral satisfaction curling in his chest as you claw desperately for purchase.
Drool slips from the corner of your lips, pooling in the crease of his elbow, and he canât help but smile smugly at the camera, his ego swelling alongside his cock. Heâs unraveling you, making you fall apart so completely that youâre losing controlâgoing stupid for his cock.
The slick sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, drowning out the crackling fire. Youâre soaking him, your pussy so wet that the coarse hairs at the base of his cock are drenched, shining with your mixed juices.
He tightens his grip around your throat, your voice reduced to breathy, incoherent gasps. The pressure is perfect, the lack of air sending your senses spiraling as he pounds into you with reckless abandon, fingers relentless against your puffy clit.
Itâs enough to coax your submission further, and he feels your slick walls start to quake around him. Your pussy flutters, gripping him so tightly it takes everything in him not to lose control right then.
âIââ You try to speak, but your words dissolve into an unintelligible cry as your orgasm slaps you right in the face.
âIâve got you, baby,â Javier growls, his voice low and rough. He drives into you harder, faster, the head of his cock hitting that devastatingly deep spot that only he has been able to touch. Your eyes roll back, your cunt clenching him like a vice.
Your body trembles on the edge of euphoria and exhaustion. You lift your hand to tap out, but before you can, his own climax barrels through him like an angry bull.
His hips snap wildly as he spills into you. Hot spurts of cum fill you, thick and endless, his curses mixing with your cries as your body trembles uncontrollably.
The second he loosens his hold on your throat, air rushes back into your lungs, and with it comes a blinding, second wave of pleasure.
âAhâfuck me!â you yelp, your body spasming as an intense pressure bursts inside you. Liquid heat sprays out of your pussy, soaking his lap and the carpet beneath you.
You fall forward, about to collapse, but Javier catches you, holding you close for a moment, his own body shaking as he fights to catch his breath.
The sticky warmth of your release and his cum pooling between your thighs has him grinning like a devil. âFuckinâ hell, baby,â he pants, pulling out slowly, hissing at the tight drag of your walls around him.
Gently, he lowers you forward, your cheek pressing against the soft carpet. He goes to caress you, but your body twitches, still caught in the aftershocks, and you let out a weak, incoherent whimper.
âToo much. Donât touch me. Donât even look at me.â
He laughs, a low, heady sound, still lightheaded from his own climax. âWhatever you say,â he mutters, reaching for the camera. He adjusts the viewfinder, pointing it at your wrecked body bent over in front of the fireplace.
âCâmon, nena,â he coaxes. âRoll over for me. Gotta get a good shot of my cum dripping out of this perfect pussy.â
His vulgar words make your clit tingle but you know you canât go for another round right now. Or any time soon, really.
With a soft huff, you roll onto your back, spreading your legs wide despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Tears of pleasure still cloud your vision as you gaze up at him, your chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
The camera captures everythingâyour swollen, glistening folds, the obscene trail of his cum trickling from your hole, evidence of how thoroughly heâs claimed you.
A lewd gurgling sound fills the air as the thick, creamy fluid bubbles out of you, sliding down to smear across your puckered entrance.
Javier is transfixed, his cock twitching despite his exhaustion. The urge to stuff his spend back into you with his fingers is almost overwhelming, but he reels it in. Youâve tapped out, and he respects your limits.
âSo fucking hot,â he murmurs, his voice reverent as he watches. âBlow a kiss to the camera, baby.â
You smile weakly, giggling through your exhaustion. Licking your lips slowly, you pucker up and blow a kiss toward the lens, finishing with a playful, fucked-out wink.
The action is pure lust and sweetness combined, and he lets out a satisfied hum before finally stopping the recording.
âMy girl, you did so well,â Javier murmurs, his voice soft and full of admiration. His praise seeps into your skin like balm, soothing you with the warmth of his presence.
He reaches for the couch pillows and the throw blanket, crafting a cozy nest right there on the floor by the fire.Â
He doesnât care that youâre both sticky with sweat and the remnants of your passionâ all he cares about is making you comfortable.
Feeling the fog of pleasure begin to lift, you roll onto your side, your body aching in the best way possible, reaching for him instinctively.
Javi doesnât hesitate; he scoops you up with ease, settling you on his chest. Your head rests between his pecs, rising and falling with his steady breaths. His calloused fingers trail up and down your naked back, a calming rhythm that lulls you into serenity.
âI canât believe I squirted,â you admit, your voice muffled against his chest. âIsnât thatâŚyou knowâŚpiss? Shouldnât we be in the shower right now?â
The question pulls a laugh from deep within him, a sound so rich and full that it vibrates through his chest and onto your cheek. âEh,â he says, shrugging lazily. âDoesnât really matter. What I do know is that Iâm so damn proud of you, baby. I know the tape is goinâ to be fuckinâ gold.â His tone drips with adoration, each word laced with pride.
âBut if it makes you feel better, we can always get back in the tub.â
You hum in response, nuzzling into the curve of his chest and letting your lips wander, pressing soft kisses over his golden skin. âThat sounds really good, actually,â you murmur, your voice still laced with a dreamy haze. âBut I donât think I can walk.â
He lets out another laugh, his arms tightening around you. âI can carry you,â he offers, ever the gentleman, even now.
âOr,â you counter with a playful grin, trailing kisses up to his collarbone and then his jaw, âwe could stay here, take a quick power nap by the fire, and thenâŚâ You pause, your lips brushing his as you whisper, âI can ride you.â
Javier groans, the sound low and full of mock exasperation. âYouâre definitely trying to kill me.â
Your laughter mingles with his as you capture his lips in a kiss, slow and unhurried. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined by the warmth of the fire. His hands cradle your face as yours slide into his hair, fingers weaving through the dark strands.
The kiss deepens, turning languid and exploratory, a perfect blend of tenderness and desire.
With you in his arms, he feels whole, like every piece of you was made to fit into his. Time seems to stretch and stop, the crackling fire and the soft hum of your breaths the only soundtrack to your moment.
Here, in his embrace, youâre not just his lover; youâre his everything.
i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interestedâ pls check it out đ¤
đˇď¸ : @almostempty . @thundermartini . @auteurdelabre . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @yourmommycallsmemommy . @larascorneroftheworld . @letsmeetintheafterglow . @lunatiquess . @myownwholewildworld . @pasc4lfuzz . @sjc7542 . @almostfoxglove . @shy-taylorsversion . @theredvelvetbitch . @xxbadchoicexx . @lumpatto . @haylee-e . @guelyury . @doblasftcisco . @ashhlsstuff . @kluvspedro . @goodvibesonly421 .
#pedro pascal#javier peĂąa smut#javier pena smut#javier peĂąa x reader#javier pena x reader#javier peĂąa x you#javier pena x you#javier peĂąa fic#javier pena fic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfic#ppcu fanfiction#ppcu fandom
529 notes
¡
View notes
Text
çˇ ââââ KISS AND MAKE UP ; nishimura riki
SYNOPSIS: riki and reader make up after the argument over text but not only for the argument but also riki learns a little more about relationship PAIRING : idol riki x reader GENRE : fluffy, angst ; WC : 1,379
WARNINGS : to understand the plot better you need to read my riki boyfriend text smau which I have linked here and also all the way down. Not proofread thoroughly, english is not my first language. That's it I don't think there is anything sensitive they have some good talk about relationship.
AUTHORS NOTE : clearly my feminist didn't come over, but honestly to all the girls out there please choose a kind ask generous guy and don't be mother to any guy who takes everything from them I tried to put my message through this fic sorry not sorry if it offends anyone. I hope to make the mother wizard liz girls get it!!! DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the authorâs imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
written in second person pov:
It's been two weeks since you have talked with Riki, one of the reasons was obviously you were upset with him but mainly because you don't know what to even talk about.
He has been sending flowers, food, and little gifts to apologize with a note saying he is sorry. Not only that but he is constantly sending you messages and voicemails. First it was explaining himself and apologizing but now it's all about him apologizing and asking to talk to you in person.
Today you finally thought of responding to him and meeting him because soon he has to prepare for their comeback, which also means there will be a tour announcement. You don't want him to go on without solving everything.
Walking towards the park you guys always meet since him being an idol wasn't an easy task to roam with his girlfriend everywhere. Thoughts have filled your brain that desires to turn around and run away but you kept your decision firm.
Walking towards the bench you guys usually sit you find him eagerly waiting because of his bouncing leg. âHiâ he turns his head and looks at you, soon standing up and nervously trying to stabilize himself.
âH-hi ___ you came hah I was waiting for you to arrive you know to talk and make up I know you wanted to talk and we talk but I wanted to talk so muchâ he shuts up as realized he was rumbling. âSorry I am just nervousâ.
âIt's okay riki let's sit and talk please.â Soon you both sat while there was silence for a few seconds but he was the first one to break it. â___ I know it was my mistake,I said in the heat of the moment. I know it's just an excuse but please I'm genuinely sorry I didn't mean to say that.â
âRiki it's not only about part of me going to your company but also how you didn't understand why I took stand for jake, I explained to you but you didn't even once responded to that text or even mentioned it once, talking about me understanding your idol industry yeah sure I don't experience them I don't understand the same emotions but I have seen you guys working.
I always sat with you whenever you went through rough patches in your idol life. I tried my best to understand never backed away and how can I let someone disrespect Jake when all he was was being too comfortable with him.
Jake was clearly uncomfortable with her actions and he set the boundaries by dismissing her but then she went all defensive talking about how bad Jake was during practice hours so she is trying to help him. She isn't even your guy's choreographer and not only that also went too far saying Jake is acting too tough when all he did was speak for himself.
How can I let someone talk to him like that? I walked inside when she was talking in a disrespectful tone with him and all I did was hold her accountable for her actions and words. As soon as the manager called you and said I was being disrespectful you started giving me silent treatment even after Jake explained to you the whole situation you didn't approach me.
And even after understanding the whole situation you went ahead and said those words.â â you take a breath after letting out all the thoughts and emotions you had suppressed in the two weeks. âI know it was my fault soon after the text Jungwon hyung called everyone to talk about the matter and after discussing with them I realized my mistake and the things I said.
Before the discussion the manager told me Jake hyung did stand for himself and because you're not a part of the company you don't need to come over because of your disrespectful behavior. I knew and even defended you that you definitely did that because of some reason but as soon as the manager said I need to distance myself from you I went blank and felt angry and I just took that out of you even after Jake told me everything.
I was just angry about the situation and in the heat of the moment I thought if Jake did speak up for himself you didn't had to meddle in between which was my fault, I understand what you're coming from baby I was just furious from mangers words and I just took that on your Iâm really sorry. I know that's my mistake and I swear I'm ready to do everything to make it right. I just don't want to lose you. I know it's pathetic and corny to say the sentence after doing wrong and all guys say the same thing but I mean it please I will do whatever you want me to.â
âReflect on yourself then, reflect on your words and actions, it's not only about now it's about everytime we go through anything. I don't want a guy who acts tough and is emotionally unavailable when it's required. I want you to act mature when we have arguments and by that I don't mean you need to always be right or wrong I mean be a generous guy who understands the situation, who knows how to talk and knows how to communicate when it's required.
And it won't be achieved in the next day or the next moment. You need to work on yourself everyday, especially during every argument, it's not only about now but always. Do you understand what I'm saying?â â he quickly nods while looking at your hand and you nod, giving him permission to hold your hand.
âI know I'm definitely not the best guy and I love how mature you're ___ despite being the same age as me but I will try my best to understand your words and work on them, I know I am bad at some point of the relationship and that will never be an excuse to treat you bad but rather I will work of them I will understand situations before acting up. Just please hold my hand to guide me when we are in such situations.â
âI will riki but just know I'm not your mother who is raising a child, I will guide you depending upon the situation but you need to enhance your knowledge about relationship and how to make it work you're old enough to understand some aspects when things go wrong. I will guide you but I'm not your mother to stay emotionally strong through everything you do. I want a partner riki, not a baby.â
âThen lean on me as a partner and walk out when you need to play the role of mother. I don't want to act like a manchild or mommy's boy but as your beloved. Lean on me when we both know the direction and walk out when I push you forward to lead us on the path, lovely.â
Looking at you with teary eyes he asks âI know forgiveness isn't about the text but my behavior so it will take time and I want you to take time, but let's not break apart.â â he pleads with eyes filled with tears. âWho said we are breaking apart you dumb dumb of course not we will make it workâ â you said while wiping his tears and hugging him while he breaks down in little sniffles.
âI was scared I thought you're going to break up after you stopped responding to me.â âWell that was because I wasn't mentally prepared to talk, you know.â âIt's okay you're my precious so I am a little emotional.â âYou sure it's little.â âStop being mean, I will cry more.â â you laugh lightly at his whiny state while he still has his head in the crook of your neck. Soon after hugging for about ten minutes he pulls his head up and asks.
âSo I can please kiss you.â âWell I don't think so.â âSweetheart please please please.â âSure you big baby.â â He quickly leans in while meeting your lips and locking them softly while he holds your hands tightly, silently promising himself to do better.
ęŠ .á NOTE : haven't made my taglist yet so please ask in the reply to be added in my permanent taglist for more bangers,,, also I hope this doesn't turns out boring but people genuinely understand my point and for more context read part 1 here!!
ęŠ .á TAGS: @taeminsboogers @mimisxs @nishimurarikisthings @avacelestepereira @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor
Ë . ęˇ đ° masterlist taglist. đŚšËâ
࣪
#enhypen#enhypen fake texts#enhypen scenarios#enhypen texts#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x reader#enha fake texts#enha scenarios#enha headcanons#enha x reader#enha#enha imagines#enhypen x y/n#enhypen social media au#enhypen smau#enha smau#enhypen imagines#nishimura riki x reader#ni ki x reader#ni ki enhypen#nishimura riki#riki nishimura x reader#ni ki x you#ni ki scenarios#ni ki smau#ni ki fluff#ni ki imagines#imaluvsj7 work
654 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Pyramid Head x Reader
Featuring Pyramid Head and a reader with amnesia lost in Silent Hill. This is Pyramid Head as originally intended for Silent Hill 2, so expect a lot of game-based immersion. Warning: NSFW, dubious/non-consent, violence, gore
[Horror Masterlist]
"Oh, for fuck's sake!"
You grunt and slap the wheel, hoping your defiant act of violence will somehow convince the car engine to start again. It remains quiet. You run a hand through your hair and sigh. The palm is mildly sticky with moisture and you realize you've been sweating a fair amount. No wonder, you're stuck in this shithole. You couldn't see a damn thing ahead with all this fog. The only discernible object was a rusty, run-down sign showing "Silent Hill". You've never heard the name before, but reading the letters and allowing the words to escape your lips has brought you an unexpected wave of panic. You quickly began hyperventilating and your arms involuntarily twitched and twisted, pulling the wheel of the car along with them and causing the car to swerve into a street barrier. And now it refuses to turn back on. Fantastic.Â
You hesitantly grab the door handle. After a deep breath in, you open the door and step out. Given the car crashed sideways, you can no longer tell which way is back and which way is forward. You can only see the first few inches of the barrier in both directions, but everything else vanishes under the thick clouds of mist. You rub your temples, becoming increasingly upset with yourself. What were you even doing, driving all the way to-
Wait. Where were you going in the first place? You recall leaving from...home? But where is that supposed to be? No, don't do this. Not now. You walk back to the car and open the glove compartment, angrily pulling out a thick stack of documents and spreading them out onto the chair. You scan over them, growing more impatient. You don't recognize anything. The names and words and addresses don't hold any meaning. You glance up to the rear-view mirror in an attempt to detect some trail of blood seeping from your scalp, as a concussion might explain your sudden memory loss, but your appearance is fresh. Almost as if you didn't just crash your car in a strange place in utter confusion.Â
You check your phone. Even if you can't remember, there has to be someone in your contacts that will come to your aid. The screen glitches briefly when you unlock it and the menu is empty. No contacts, no messages, no apps. No matter, emergency will do. You type in the digits and lift the phone to your head, but quickly remove it when loud static assaults your eardrums. Why is nothing working properly? You're tempted to just slam the junk into the pavement, but find enough composure to stuff it back in the pocket for now.Â
All that's left to do now is to find another human. You begin walking. The road has to lead somewhere, that's for certain. And soon enough the barrier is replaced with a different kind of fencing that you use as guidance. It seems to be a small bridge. Just a few steps further and you discover the first signs of modern, populated world: a bus stop. Behind the waiting bench is a brief map of the area and you trace the plaque with your fingers, mumbling the path to yourself. "Now let's see...This is Nathan Avenue...Rosewater Park ahead...Ah, the Silent Hill Fire Station should be very close."
You can't wait to be done with this mess. They'll call for a tow truck and get you out of here. You almost sprint to the next block, expectantly. In fact, you can already spot someone right outside the building.Â
"Thank God! Listen, my car broke down before the bridge. My stupid phone is also...huh."Â
Just as you mention it, the same static as previously erupts from the speaker. You're startled and fumble for your phone. You're about to apologize to the person in front of you, but upon lifting your gaze you instantly stop in your tracks.Â
'Person' is a strong word for it. It resembles one, or maybe it was one long ago. What's crawling towards you, however, is not how you'd define it. The arms are melted into the torso, mimicking a straight jacket of skin. The bony, crooked legs are dragging themselves in an unnatural, unnerving way. The creature has no face, save for a gaping hole, a bizarre cavity deforming what should be a head. Your mouth grimaces with disgust, followed by fear. Terror. You have the choice of returning to your damaged car, or attempting to find actual help deeper into the town. You run ahead, praying that someone's out there. The dissonant sound of a siren can be heard, diffused into the persistent fog. Â
By the time you reach the next building, you're gasping for air. You didn't expect to run this far. You went all the way around Toluca lake, avoiding the side streets. The center was swarming with those abominations. Each turn and each corner would eventually reveal its revolting murmur, that pathetic shuffle of disfigured limbs. Thankfully they're not fast, nor smart. A little distance and they lose their interest to pursue you. You fall against the brick wall of this small house and read the poster. "Silent Hill Historical Society". Doesn't look too promising, but it's surprisingly devoid of any monstrous being. At this point you'd be more grateful for emptiness. It's safer.Â
You tiptoe your way in, wary of potential attackers. There's a faint buzz echoing from afar, but other than that no immediate danger. You examine the lobby and notice the paintings and old photos hanging from the decaying wallpaper. It smells slightly rotten. One of the art pieces catches your attention and you stop in front of it. "Misty Day, Remains of Judgement".Â
The abstract character depicted on canvas reminds you of an executioner. The more you stare, the clearer you can feel some kind of guilt knotting inside your stomach. Your shoulders are heavy and you're overwhelmed by the same anxiety of a child about to be punished. Awaiting the belt. The calloused hand of an unforgiving father. Your throat is dry.
Your musings are interrupted by the static that - as you've since learned - warns you of approaching creatures. The rooms are cramped and the walls are narrow and you dislike the idea of calculating your escape within this claustrophobic maze, but it's preferable to being dead. You jog along slithering paths, unsure of where they lead. The threatening turbulence of your phone goes up and down, like a sine wave, with each turn into uncharted territory. In your frantic efforts to flee you don't see the large hole blocking your way, or at least not fast enough. By the time you figure out the outlines of this pitch black well, you're flooded with the light sensation of gravitational force, stretching and compressing your innards as you fall. Is this how you end?
It's not so easy.Â
As soon as you open your eyes, a burning pain metastasizes through the head, digging deep into your brain. You grab onto your scalp and press your fingers over the skin, hoping for a small relief. In your debilitating migraine you don't hear the agitated flutter of limbs. They're minuscule, but so many. Thousands of sclerotized joints frothing around your limp form. You lift yourself off the rusted ground and yelp voiceless at the sight. Cockroaches. The pile of vermin lets out a deafening, high pitched screech with every movement. You drag your elbows in an attempt to get away, but the creepers almost ignore your existence. They seem to be running away from something, retreating in masses.
You don't have to wait long in order to witness their source of fear. Heavy footsteps, muffled by the grating friction of metal against metal. A corroded stench invades your lungs and you cough. Whatever is coming has instilled the utmost dread in your very bones. You want to get up and run, until your legs give up and your body collapses of exhaustion, but your limbs are petrified in panic. Your chest constricts and throbs, as if your heart is trashing to escape this prison condemned to unknown doom.Â
Finally, the fiend comes into view. A tall, large man wearing a leather apron layered with grime and encrusted blood. His skin is scarred and discolored, and a bulky, dense pyramid structure rests on his broad shoulders, concealing his face. He seems to be dragging along a great knife of sorts, although on closer inspection it looks like a halved pair of oversized scissors. The edge is dulled and has splattered visceral leftovers mattifying its surface. You remember the painting you've seen upstairs. Is this what it is? Your Retribution?Â
You lower yourself until your forehead touches the rusty floor. Like an animal awaiting to receive the final blow from its hunter, like a prisoner resigning to his fate under the guillotine. If only matters could be dealt with so simply! Your neck is clawed into a tight hold by the large gloved hand and you're crudely pulled back up so that you can properly face your Punisher. There's a vague grunt coming from underneath his bizarre helmet.Â
He carries you to the nearest wall and slams you against it. The great knife drops to the floor with a loud crash, and the other hand, now freed, begins to search your lower clothing. You can feel the seams of the garments tear and snap with no resistance. You want to vocalize a protest, but your throat is crushed under the forceful pressure of his clasp. At best, you can exhale in what sounds like a whispered wail. His apron is nonchalantly flipped to the side and your thigh lifted over his forearm, so that his hand can adjust itself securely under your bottom for support.
Abruptly, a prickling ache crosses your entire body as if you've just been split in two. Tears automatically begin forming in the corner of your eyes and spill down your cheeks and over the pyramid that's now pressing tightly against your quivering form. It's too big and you want to push away, but with each renewed plunge you grow weaker. The small tears and rips that blossom around your abused intimacy turn into bleeding wounds. You want to sleep.Â
A creature of pure instinct, serving as a reminder of human perversions and immoral desires. Travesty, corruption, sin. And what about it? Before you know it, a small moan escapes your dried lips. You throw your arms around your captor's shoulders. The sharp edges of the helmet scratch your skin, waking you back into consciousness. Your lower muscles start to relax around the massive member and allow for a smoother glide in and out. The numbness is gradually replaced by pleasant sensations. The throbbing reverberates inside your abdomen and your other leg wraps around the creature's hips, asking for more contact. Once your compliance is confirmed, the hand pinning you by the neck wanders to other parts of your body in starved desperation. Your voice returns and more lewd whines roll out one after another. If only you had a mirror so you could look at yourself in this moment. What shameless expressions are you wearing on your face? You're clinging to your violator in feverish depravity. And in return, the creature responds to your cravings with increased intensity. He seems to resonate with your wishes and stiffens his hold on you with newfound obsession. His thrusts become almost feral, with a certain possessiveness to it.Â
As you're about to reach your peaks, your mind once again travels to the painting. You wonder if you'd be hung and framed just like the prisoners behind their executioner. Pleasure mixed with guilt.Â
What sin is eroding your entrails?Â
#silent hill#silent hill 2#sh2#pyramid head#pyramid head x reader#pyramid head smut#horror#silent hill x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#dead by daylight#dbd x reader#dbd x you#dbd pyramid head#pyramid head dbd#slasher smut#yandere pyramid head#monster x reader
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Twisted wonderland Self-aware au
Housewardens x GN!Reader
Cw- obsessive and possessive behavior, isolation all that good yandere stuff (remember none of this behavior is healthy nor do I condone it this is purely for entertainment )
A/n: I wrote this while dying of the flu I am not built for the cold weather release me from my chains
You downloaded the game for fun. As any normal person usually does. What you weren't prepared for was when your game started acting weird.
It started small, your characters dialogue wouldn't line up with the videos you've seen. No big deal perhaps they just got changed during an update.
It got a bit weirder whenever you'd start seeing new sprites you haven't seen anywhere else. You tried to shrug it off as you just managed to get a newer version of the game(somehow).
You swore the characters started to address you more directly but you again tried to ignore it. You just thought your brain was playing tricks on you.
It was only until you realized you left your phone at your apartment. You quickly rushed home to retrieve it just to find a very real house warden in your home.
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
REALIZATION:
When Riddle first suddenly became aware of the fact his existence was nothing but code he was unbelievably out of it. All the conversations he had, his harsh upbringing, everything was just part of his character. Were the feelings of anger, confusion and acceptance even real? He went on a bit of a rampage being harsher than usual but he didn't wish to shatter the reality for everyone else (he'd also sound more like a mad hatter If he tried to explain the fact they were just in a game) So no one knew why for the next month Riddle was more on edge than usual.
He came to accept the fact his life was nothing but a path set for him. He instead started to focus on you(or should I say yuu)
He soon realized that the ramshackle perfect was nothing but a hollow shell. No notable personality or backstory. But he soon managed to be aware of your experience. Glitches allowed him to hear snippets of your voice and how you truly felt. He was your favorite and he wanted it to stay that way.
He'd make sure he was always on your home screen. He'd even get risky and start talking to you directly. He'd listen to you ramble as you played the game. His face would flush red not out of anger but embarrassment when you'd change his outfits or get excited when you realized he'd gotten a new card.
He wished there wasn't a screen keeping you away from each other...
BREAKING CODE:
(I like to think this would be similar to an overblot In a way and enough emotion could cause them to lose themselves and eventually overwrite their code)
Riddle was over the moon. He was really in your room. Sevens he never thought a day would come where he'd be standing in your space. It was so you...
It felt weird, in a space that wasn't just there for scenes. It was actually lived in.
When he sees you he feels as if he succeeded in his life's purpose. You're confused and he can see that. He tries to explain to you how he didn't even know how he had gotten where he was.
You let him stay in your apartment because you couldn't really let him out in a world he knows nothing about. You're too kind he says.
DAY TO DAY LIFE:
Riddle takes care of most of the household chores. While you're gone, he keeps himself busy by tidying up, reading, or researching ways to improve the home environment. As well as constantly making rules for you to follow. He's so used to rules being set in place, it's what he was programmed to do so In the beginning you let it slide.
However he becomes controlling, trying to regulate every aspect of your life to âprotectâ you. He insists on setting the rules for "safety" and gets visibly distressed if you don't follow them.
Constantly checks if the you're eating properly or following a âscheduleâ he created for you both. If you don't he'll sometimes scold you harshly like he would in game. He'll apologize later in fear of upsetting you, he just wants you to be safe.
Becomes passive-aggressive if you end up spending too much time with others, interpreting it as rebellion. All he's trying to do is set you on the right path , can't you see that?
-"Itâs for your own good [Name],Without guidance, this world will overwhelm you. Let me take care of you."
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
REALIZATION:
When Leona realizes he's in a video game he's surprisingly the calmest. He's upset and disorientated but he doesn't cause a big scene or let it be known he's losing his mind. He's used to concealing how he feels from others; it's in his codeHe's more laid back after this fact. No matter what he did he'd never be able to change his fate, because it was already set for him he had no control over it. So why did it matter what he did?
When you caught his attention the beast man was obsessed with proving himself to you. To him you were the only person who saw him for him. Who understood him. He was your favorite.
He'd never been anyone's number one anything before and the fact you choose him he wasn't going to let anything take that away from him.
The screen was just another obstacle he'll overcome to get what he wants.
BREAKING CODE:
Leona was really in your room...your room. He felt overcome with joy. Genuine joy, something he'd...never felt. Everything he felt up until then was just what the developers wanted him to feel.
Needs to say you were more than confused when you saw a lion hybrid snuggled up in your bed when you came home.
After getting an explanation you offered to let him stay in your apartment; if you didn't you were more than sure he'd be taken for government testing or something. Too bad you now needed a new phone.
DAY TO DAY LIFE :
Leona is still a lion at heart, he frequently loiters around you, draping himself over your furniture or bed like a lion staking a claim.Heâs territorial and quick to anger if someone else tries to get too close to you. Despite his gruffness, he seeks constant reassurance that the you wonât leave him.
He's possessive and hates whenever you leave and doesnât hide his irritation. He often tries to convince you to skip work/school, suggesting you should spend the day relaxing with him instead. (Sometimes he'll go out with you and will send looks to anyone who looks at you too long)
you're just happy everyone thinks that his animal features are crazy prosthetic since he refuses to hide them
When you come home, Leona monopolizes your time, insisting on napping together and getting all your attention.
He'd dislike the smell of other people on you when you come home and will drag you to bed for cuddles. None of these humans deserve your attention, he worked so hard for it not them .The thought angers him.
- "You're mine, I can protect youâprovide for you âlove you, you don't need anyone else but me those humans can't do what I can"
AZUL ASHHENGROTTO
REALIZATION:
Azul understandably does not take the life altering realization that he's not actually real well. His usually kept together appearance started to slip. He was all over the place. How could he not? This left Floyd and Jade completely confused why their boss was so out of it. It wasn't like him. He couldn't tell anyone else about this, not that they'd believe him anyway.
His interest in you starts as a mix of fascination and suspicion. Heâs drawn to your influence but wary of your intentions. It became an obsession .
He saw you as the only real thing in his "life", Azul was your favorite out of all the characters, you picked him. He'd always make sure he looked right on your home screen (it wouldn't matter anyway since his sprite would always look the same)
You became the only thing he could think about, he'd have you no matter how much it took
BREAKING CODE:
Azul at first didn't think him being in your room was real. He thought it was a dream. When it finally set in that it wasn't just him losing his mind he was more than just happy.
He was in his darlings room. Everything felt so perfect. But not as perfect when he saw you for the first time. You were more than confused to see him(now in your living room) looking around.
After explaining the situation you let him stay with you in your apartment. You had no other choice where else would he go? It wouldn't be so bad to have extra help around anyway.
DAY TO DAY LIFE:
Much like Riddle , Azul takes care of most of the daily tasks. He offers to assist you with your tasks, whether itâs by organizing your work schedule or helping with assignments. However, he might feel a little hurt if you seem too busy for him. Pay attention to him please!
Don't forget that this is a sly sly man. Azul becomes emotionally manipulative, weaving situations that ensure you stays reliant on him. He uses your gratitude and trust to justify his control, often veiling his obsession with charm and just him being a "gentleman".
He'll shower you in gifts and constantly praise you on everything. He'll try and offer you deals just to make sure you have ties with him.
He'll text you at work with encouraging needy messages. He's always in your corner so just rely on him okay? You don't need anyone else.
- "Youâd be lost without me. Everything I do is for you. Just let me take care of all your work."
Kalim Al-Asim
REALIZATION:
Kalim was in denial for the longest time about the realization that he was in a program. He couldn't wrap his head around it. He didn't want to bother Jamil more than he already did especially not with something this big. It was hard to not say anything while his mind was going crazy with thoughts as he tried to pretend nothing was wrong.
When he realized yuu wasn't just another side character and in fact the player he became obsessed with knowing more. He'd get so excited whenever the game would glitch and he could hear your voice and you talking as you played around on the home screen.
It made him so happy; Kalim was your favorite character. Others would wonder why he'd be more bubbly than usual whenever he'd hear you compliment him on his newest card. He wanted all your attention onto him.
He'd make your every wish come true. This screen wouldn't stop that.
BREAKING CODE :
Oh wow he was really in your room. It was way smaller than he expected but that didn't matter. It was your room so it made it much better. He doesn't know what he did to deserve this. He was basically bouncing off the walls; touching everything.
When you walked into your room you didn't have time to react before Kalim was pulling you a crushing hug causing you to yelp. He apologized a bit flustered.
After explaining (he could barely keep himself together) you allowed him to stay. He was so sweet how could you let him out into the world?
DAY TO DAY LIFE:
Kalim insists on accompanying you everywhere. Wherever you go Kalim is clinging to you. Your neighbors have all taken a liking to him so him being with you isn't so bad.
He isn't good with chores but he tries his best to clean and tidy when you're gone. He tries to cook but has burnt it multiple times so you tell him not to. He buys you gifts you don't even need all the time. He just wants to spoil you.
Kalimâs obsession is rooted in his desire to make you happy at all costs. However, his constant need to please you and keep you close becomes overwhelming, and suffocating. If you tell him this he'll make you feel bad, that he just loves you so much and wants to take care of you; you often cave.
When you return from work or school, Kalim greets you with hugs and insists on spending the rest of the evening together, often talking about what he did while you were gone.
-" [Name]! I missed you sooo much, you should let me go with you to work, you don't even need work I could make all of your wishes come true"
VIL SCHONHEIT
REALIZATION:
Vil did not take it well... He was absolutely losing his mind. His beauty was nothing but pixels. Was everything he worked for was fake? Everything he knew was just controlled by someone else. It was so frustrating. He ended up locking himself away until he could accept the truth.
When he realized yuu was the player he was...angry. However that anger subsided after he started to know you for you. Vil was...your favorite. It boosted his ego more than anything.
He wanted to be in the spotlight at all times. He craved your attention. It was like he became addicted to your praise. He'd smile whenever you'd call him pretty whenever you looked at a card of his.
He wanted to be perfect for you. He'd show you how perfect he could be, you'd see. He just needed to get rid of the screen.
BREAKING CODE:
Vil stood in the middle of your room. Everything was too perfect to touch. He took it all in. everything felt just...right.
He didn't even calculate how he got in your room but he didn't care. He was in your world and sevens he'd never felt better.
When you walked into him looking at himself in your mirror (taking in how he was an actual real person) . You were so confused why this gorgeous man was in your room.
After explaining the situation you agreed to let him stay with you; if you didn't you swear he'd get kidnapped or something to become a big model. It wouldn't be bad to have a pretty face to look at when you got home.
DAY TO DAY LIFE:
Vil insists on controlling your wardrobe and grooming, often brushing aside whatever protests you have. He discourages you from associating with âlesserâ individuals, claiming they tarnish the your image.
He knows what's best for you come on, those other people will only be dragging you down from your true potential. But of course you wouldn't know that he couldn't blame you.
Vilâs obsession honestly manifests in his relentless efforts to âperfectâ for you. He'll critique your choices and actions, believing he alone knows whatâs best for you. His fixation often leaves you feeling scrutinized and trapped.
He believes you just need him. He'll do everything just as long as he gets praise from you. Tell him he's being a great help won't you?
"You deserve only the best, and I wonât let anyone drag you downâ!"
IDIA SHROUD:
REALIZATION:
This is not as exciting as they make it in manga. Idia was having a crisis. Realizing that he was in a video game made him want to hide away even more than he normally would. It didn't matter how hard Ortho tried he just wouldn't budge. He stayed cooped up in his room trying so hard to distract himself from the fact that he was nothing but code just like the ones he's learned to manipulate. Idia is not going to recover from this.
Idia was already wary around yuu but when he realized you were yuu he wanted to know more. He was still too scared to leave his dorm so you didn't see him much other than the homescreen.
He was so taken back when he realized that, he â Idia shroud was your favorite. He'd never been anyone's favorite before. He was just a loser that stayed cooped up in his room all day and you still liked him?
He grew obsessed with that feeling of being seen, he wanted to just use whatever knowledge he had to break past the screen.
BREAKING CODE:
When Idia realized he was actually in your room he damn near fainted. No scratch that he did. He was so overwhelmed. He didn't deserve to be in your room. Oh man how did he even get here? Nevermind that.
He was so incredibly.. happy. He was in the room of the one person who he felt knew him more than anyone. It made him feel bubbly and his hair flashed pink a bit.
He looked for something to do fearing he'd have a panic attack if he thought about this too long. So you ended up finding him tinkering with your computer when you came home. He basically died when he saw you.
After explaining to you what happened, you, now trying to get him to calm down agreed to let him stay. Not that he'd leave anyway he practically already made your bed his sanctuary.
DAY TO DAY LIFE:
Your room basically became his. He keeps it clean but doesn't really do a lot of the house work other than that.
Idia spends the day gaming, tinkering with gadgets, or monitoring your online activity (just to make sure you're okay, of course!). He reacts the worst to you being away and just does not like it one bit.
Idia struggles with separation anxiety (like a once stray cat)and might try to convince you to work or study from home. If you insist on going out he bombards you with messages . He'll subtly manipulate situations to keep you away from others, convincing you the world is too dangerous.
When you come home, Idia is overly clingy, insisting you spend the rest of the night together and refusing to let you focus on work. He just wants his cuddles and your attention you were out with those normies all day!
-" Canât you just stay here and binge-watch something with me? Itâs way saferâand more fun."
MALLEUS DRACONIA:
When the fae realizes he's nothing but binary code strug together he's more than perplexed. Malleus has dealt with a lot of things in his time but nothing could prepare him for the crushing reality. He's completely disoriented and Sebek nor Silver can figure out why because he won't tell them. He started lacking on work and just overall seemed more spaced out.
He was very quick to put two and two together. Yuu was the player. It was obvious; human without powers manages to get into NRC and some how is involved with almost everything. It wasn't quite hard to figure out.
Malleus idealizes you seeing you as a perfect being. In his eyes, you are kind, compassionate, and the only one who truly understands him. He was your favorite, this confirms you too think you too are meant for each other.
He'd do anything just for you to join him when he takes up the crown, it's just the screen that's not making it possible.
BREAKING CODE:
Once in your room Malleus doesn't look like he cares at all actually but inside he was losing his mind in the most positive way ever.
Nothing was how he imagined. This is how you like your space? Noted. He tidied up your place a bit and sat in the middle of the room as to not mess anything.
When you walked into him just sitting there you were so confused but he just gave you a smile showing off his fangs.
After explaining the situation you let him stay in your apartment; too scared what he'd manage to get into if you didn't.
DAY TO DAY LIFE:
Malleus makes sure everything is perfect for you at all times. Everything is organized and you never have to worry about anything being out of place.
Like Leona Malleus has animalistic tendencies, him being a fae dragon causes him to be well.. possessive, not wanting anyone else to monopolize your attention. He might grow jealous of your coworkers, friends, or even family, viewing them as a threat to your bond.
He. Is.clingy. worse than Kalim and Idia. He insists on escorting you everywhere, even if itâs unnecessary. People recognized him as "[Name's] horned bodyguard!" Gods you hated it. He tries to insert himself into every aspect of your life, wanting to be by your side constantly.
It took him so long to just be okay with letting you leave on your own. Once you're home he's bombarding you with questions about your day.(Secretly snuggling up to you so you can have his scent again)
-" I could just use magic you know, there's no needâI'm simply a better option for this stuff you can rely on me"
MASTERLIST
#crunchystarz#starz in wonderland#twisted wonderland x you#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst malleus#twst leona#twst riddle#twst kalim#twst vil#twst idia#malleus twisted wonderland#malleus draconia x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#idia shroud x reader#kalim al asim#kalim x reader#vil schoenheit#vil shoenheit x reader#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#azul ashengrotto#twst azul#azul ashengrotto x reader#idia shroud#idia x reader#twst housewardens#selfaware au save me#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst
796 notes
¡
View notes
Note
Apologies if you've already done a post on this and I've just missed it, but can I ask for your take on the pyjamas worn by the cast of interview with vampire? I mean technically they're not a 100% necessary item, but just from a quick look there seems to be a lot of variety and they do change over the series
ok, iâm delighted by the specificity of this question, and it turns out that i have a VERY extensive answer.
thereâs a lot of sleepwear in IWTV due to the volume of bedroom/coffin scenes, and like any other outfit, these costumes are shaped by characterization and historical period. for instance claudia initially wears a long, modest, frilly nightgown - an old-fashioned style that plays into her girlish doll wardrobe purchased by louis and lestat. however her sleepwear matures over the years, including a trendy lace nightdress with bloomers in the 1920s (note the rectangular silhouette), and a pink padded jacket/pastel robe outfit in 1940s paris. she's following contemporary trends while charting a visible trajectory from child to adult.
when i wrote about the ThÊâtre des Vampires coven costumes, i noted that while their wardrobes share certain themes (ie. monochrome patterns and stripes), they each have specific personal tastes. that holds true for sleepwear. in the S2 finale we see the coven going to bed in their coffins, with Eglee in a gorgeous (maybe 1940s?) robe, Celeste in a striped pajama suit reflecting her 1920s-30s cabaret style, and Armand in a plain grey set of prison jammies because he's Suffering.
of course, the star pajama outfits all belong to Louis and Lestat, playing into their wealthy domestic aesthetic in S1. they receive multiple bedroom/coffin scenes, and Lestat's gold Leyendecker robe is obviously iconic.
touching on the historical side of things for a moment, pajamas (as in a matching buttondown top and loose pants) were popularized in the western world in the 19th century, as a repurposed south asian import - kind of like how banyans became trendy among the upper classes in 18th century england. this was when loungewear started to catch on as a concept, both in terms of dressing gowns and smoking jackets (which you could wear while socializing at home) and actual pajamas, which became unisex in the 1920s.
back in his human life in the 18th century, Lestat probably slept naked or wore a shapeless white nightgown (and possibly a nightcap, the sexiest of garments). but in New Orleans he adopts Louis' lifestyle, which involves a luxurious wardrobe of fashionable menswear. they're both into shopping and looking good, and i think they enjoy the ritual of getting dressed together each night.
(i also have a personal theory that Lestat may prefer to sleep fully clothed because his formative traumatic memory involves waking up naked in the dark. after all, he doesn't need pajamas to stay warm, and he doesn't have a recent habit of wearing them in his human life like Louis does. then again, maybe he just enjoys having a new outfit for every occasion!)
in Dubai, we only get one scene (iirc) with Louis and Armand in their pajamas, lying in bed wearing outfits that tie into the striped prison bar imagery of their bedroom. Armand is in warmer brown tones (like his Paris wardrobe) while Louis is in black and grey, like the rest of his Dubai outfits. i'd also note that this is the one place where they're genuine in private, meaning that they aren't putting on a show for Daniel. so this is potentially Armand's most relaxed costume in the present day.
the fact that they're wearing this kind of old-school sleepwear feels very appropriate for their whole deal, imo. in the 21st century, a lot of people just sleep in boxers and t-shirts or whatever. there's a slightly 20th century vibe to wearing a full set of buttondown pajamas, and Armand's outfit reads as more stylish (and possibly more wealthy) than your average millennial guy. which makes sense! they're old men.
i think we can assume that every single thing in their Dubai home is ferociously expensive, even when it doesn't need to be. considering the way Louis gives himself a modern makeover in the finale, i do wonder if he'll switch over to sleeping in t-shirts etc next season, or if he'll stick with variations of the same sleepwear he wore during his mortal life.
p.s. all of my iwtv design posts are available on this tag!
#iwtv#interview with the vampire#costume design#louis de pointe du lac#lestat#iwtv costume design#claudia#armand#iwtv meta#fortunatelyhercat#pajamas#asks
540 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Nikto's Commandments part 8! (and the first half of the Jealousy Duet).
I'll be honest, I got stuck with this one! For some reason I just couldn't get a good flow going and had to try writing this a few different times. I think it shows in the beginning, but I get the rhythm back towards the end.
Also, apologies if there are more errors than usual. I kind of powered through it and am too afraid I'm going to hate it if I try to read it over.
Anyway, please enjoy as always <3
Content: Jealousy, Acts of Devotion, Declarations of Love, Kissing
Itâs your first mission since Nikto failed you.
(You may have forgiven him. Heâs even accepted that you have, merciful as you are. But that doesnât change the truth of what happened â that he failed you. That he left your side, and then almost didnât return. Youâve forbade him from hanging himself with âalmost,â but that doesnât mean he canât feel the noose around his throat.)
Youâre long since healed and recovered under Niktoâs devoted watch. Nurturing may not come naturally to him, but heâd bend himself into any shape for your use. So, he made himself into your caregiver. Weeks of helping you sit up, walk, bathe⌠until you were back in the gym, right by his side, gritting your teeth through physical therapy.
A scar is all thatâs left now, silvery and tender. The only sign that Niktoâs world nearly bled away on dirty concrete. A reminder of his failure, his disgrace. How could he possibly deserve a place at your side, when he couldnât even protect you? When he thought, for even a moment, that vengeance mattered more than your life?
Still, he returns to your side. Because you told him to, all that time ago. Because he has so much to make up for after everything. And because you havenât given him leave to be anywhere else.
(He prays that you donât the only way he knows how. Through meals from his own hand while you grin, nipping at his fingers. Through tea shared from one cup. With fragrant products in your wet hair while you sigh. You havenât told him he could be anywhere else, beckoning him into a bed bigger than the one on base, still tucking in close like one of you might fall off the edge.)
Itâs not that he thinks you incapable now. He would never blaspheme that you are anything other than utterly competent. Itâs just that every blink superimposes pools of blood over his vision, a strobe of you near death.
In his most selfish, private thoughts, he imagines taking you away from it all for good. Tucking you away warm and safe in the cathedral of your off-base apartment, where a god belongs, in their own house. He soothes himself on visions of devoting himself to you fully and wishes he were a prophet. But for all youâve given him, visions of the future are not one of them.
You were eager to return to duty, nearly cornered OâConor once you got final clearance from the doctors. Nearly shook him down for a new assignment â for the both of you. Even if he had reservations about sending you to duty so soon, an opportunity to keep Nikto and his temper away a little longer was too tempting. (The bruises Nikto left on his throat were long gone, but the memory clearly was not.)
And so here you both are, in the gym of an SAS base, sparring with Task Force 141.
âOi, lass! Care for a match?â
âBring it, MacTavish!â
Nikto stands back to observe as you and the sergeant square off.
The 141 has been cooperative, despite previous tensions with KorTac. You, Nikto, and Konig have managed to build a decent working rapport â though most of that work has been yours. Their captain seems to like your friendly personality and straightforward professionalism; their lieutenant has been cordial. But the two sergeants (especially the Scottish one) have taken a liking to you.
âFuck!â
Nikto jerks as you get taken down on your bad side â no, itâs not your bad side anymore. Youâve fully recovered; he must remember that. Interrupting a sparring match would be unwelcome and unnecessary. Not just overprotective on his part, but disrespectful to you as well, as if he doesnât think you can hold your own. Still, he balls his hands into fists as you struggle against the sergeant.
At least youâre laughing, breathless and curse laden as it is.
âShe is okay, ja?â Konig asks.
Nikto grunts the affirmative, eyes sharp as he watches you knee MacTavishâs side. Good, he thinks proudly as you twist to get on top. Youâve been working tirelessly to improve your groundwork techniques, learning all the different ways you can use your smaller stature against bigger and stronger opponents.
âHe is⌠friendly,â Konig continues.
Another grunt of agreement. Most people are with you. Itâs a natural reaction in the face of divinity; to reach out to a smiling god. It worked on Nikto, anyone else would be helpless. Itâs just the natural order of things like green grass, blue skies, or gravity.
Thereâs a pause that starts to prickle the back of Niktoâs mind. Disinterested as he may be in socializing, he understands how it works. A program that runs in his mind â body language, tone, inflection, facial expression. A complex algorithm that computes to emotion, conversation, feeling. Itâs just not an equation that applies to him, or that he can apply to himself anymore.
And right now, Konig is trying to imply something. Nikto cuts his eyes to the side, meets Konigâs.
âToo friendly, donât you think?â he adds.
Nikto snorts and turns back to the match â where you are just tapping out. MacTavish is unwinding his arm from your windpipe. Youâre sat between his legs, back to his chest. A tough position to get out from in a fight. As youâre scooting away, the sergeant pats your hip, leans to say, âgood matchâ in your ear. You shoot him a grin over your shoulder and then push to your feet, sauntering back to your own team.
âWhose turn is it?â you ask, wiping sweat from your brow.
You donât see MacTavishâs eyes darting up and down your body, zeroing in on the sliver of skin revealed by your lifted shirt. But Nikto does.
âMine,â Konig answers, stepping forward.
You smile at him, bump fists with him. âKick his ass for me, yeah?â
âJa.â
He shoots Nikto one last, pointed look before stepping onto the mat. But Nikto has no interest in watching his match. Not when youâre right in front of him, a sheepish look on your face.
âI canât believe I lost like that,â you groan. âGuess I need more practice.â
âWe will practice,â he promises.
You beam and knock the back of your hand gently against his.
Like an insidious weed, Konigâs observation takes root and sprouts. Sergeant MacTavishâs friendliness.
Itâs almost like Nikto is hallucinating again â or perhaps that he has just stopped. A veil pulled away from his eyes. A creature camouflaged in the brush, his eyes skipping over the landscape until an irregularity in the pattern was pointed out to him. And now he cannot stop seeing it.
MacTavish saying hello to you first every morning, asking how you slept with a twinkle in his eye. He offers to accompany you to training sessions, often chooses you first for cross-team drills. In downtime, heâll invite you to socialize (with the rest of the 141, sure) and always save you a seat or a spot. Usually right next to him.
And it is not that he doesnât acknowledge Nikto or Konig. He is amicable with both, works well with either of them when paired up. But there is always a tilt to his mouth when he speaks to you, a lilt to his voice. A subtle incline to his shoulders that makes every interaction seem just that slightest bit intimate.
A week into the assignment, and he is touching you freely. First a hand tapping elbow or shoulder. Then an arm around the back of your neck. Platonic, commiserating. Within a day, that arm drops to your shoulders and heâs leaning the side of his head against yours, something a bit warmer than a hug.
One morning, he scoops you up in a hug, your toes nearly off the ground. You seem surprised, reciprocate with a pat to the back before youâre set down and offered a chair.
And the sparring⌠the sparring gets worse. Not just an exchange of blows and a chance to improve skills with a new partner anymore. Itâs become a game of teasing you, joking with you. Tagging you with hits to coax you into going after him. Wrestling with you on the ground and dragging it out while he grunts and huffs against you.
And Nikto⌠Nikto burns.
This is not hell, he knows; but maybe this is some form of purgatory.
He has no place, no right to suffer. Knows that trying to claim you as his own would be like trying to cage the sun. It wouldnât just be selfish; it would be heresy. Youâve already given him a miracle; you told him you love him. That is far beyond anything he could deserve, anything he could hope or dream or long for. To take after all that, to demand more of the time, attention, energy you pour into him like holy waterâŚ
And yet.
And yet he wants to claw his skin off when MacTavish winks at you. Wants to set the world on fire when that accent purrs âbonnieâ or âhenâ at you. An awful, deafening static scream fills the fractures of his mind when you smile at the sergeant, when you wish him a good morning or evening.
âHow are you with a sniper, hen?â MacTavish asks one day.
You hum, glance over at Nikto. Heâs been training you with his own rifle for months now â though itâs obviously been on pause since your injury. âWell, Iâve been working on it, but I definitely need some improvement.â
MacTavish crosses his arms, biceps bulging against the sleeves of his t-shirt. âI wouldnât mind giving you a few pointers, if you want to come down to the range with me some time. Promise Iâm a good teacher.â
You blink, hesitate. Then lightly, âYeah, maybe!â
Nikto canât hang himself on an âalmost,â but heâs gutted on a âmaybe.â
That night you come out of the bathroom frowning. Thereâs a furrow between your brows that you only get when youâre both frustrated and worried; if it stays, youâll have a headache within the hour.
âNikto?â
He glances up from the knives heâs polishing. You stop, eyes darting all over him, towel frozen in your hand.
âHm?â he prompts.
You donât answer. Instead, drop the towel carelessly on the floor and stride across the room. Towards him. He only just manages to shove his equipment out of the way by the time you reach him. And you donât stop, climbing onto the hard desk chair heâs in, straddling his lap. Your fingers curl so tight in his chest straps that he can hear them creak.
Heâs trapped as much by your gaze as your weight. Something swimming in the pools of your irises that he hasnât seen in them before. Doesnât know how to name or how to tame.
âWhatâs going on?â you ask.
He jerks back in surprise, but youâve got a solid grip and thereâs nowhere to go.
âDid I⌠do something?â you ask. âOr⌠or not do something?â
He stares. âWhat?â he asks, mouth gone suddenly dry.
Your eyes are still darting between his, like youâll find answers playing peekaboo between them.
âYou havenât been right the past few days. Maybe even a week,â you explain. âIâve been giving you space to tell me, but you wonât. And Iâm sorry, Iâm not trying to pressure you, but please just talk to me.â
Now his brows furrow. âI havenât beenâŚ?â
You sit back a bit, assured that you have his attention â as if that isnât guaranteed.
âYouâre not eating the same. Didnât even take the green beans I put aside for you,â you say. âYouâre not sharing my tea or letting me wrap your hands. You keep leaving for a smoke in the middle of the night. Hell, youâre wearing your mask in our room.â
It dawns on him like apocalypse. That he has been worrying you, affecting you.
âAnd youâre not⌠youâre not talking to me.â Your white-knuckled grip eases a bit as you run out of steam, sadness tinging your expression. âI know we donât talk the normal way but⌠I havenât been able to read you. You wonât look me in the eye or press our legs together. Youâre even pulling away in your sleep.â
His heart is trying to claw out of his ribcage, wants to crawl into the palm you press to his chest.
âSo⌠if Iâm doing something or not doing something⌠you can tell me. I promise I wonât be upset. I just miss you.â
He crumbles.
Weeks under torture, but he breaks at four words.
You gasp as he rips the gear off his face. Try to help, but he just pushes your hands away. Knows heâs aggravated the old wounds, but a balm is at hand, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.
âĐźĐžŃ ĐťŃйОвŃ,â he whispers fervently. âĐźĐžŃ Đ˝Đ°Đ´ĐľĐśĐ´Đ°. ĐźĐžŃ ĐąĐžĐłĐ¸Đ˝Ń.â
You curl around him instantly, arms around his shoulders, fingers fluffing through the fuzz of hair at the back of his skull. Gentle and kind and everything that sinners and saints would fall on their swords for. And yet all you ask of him is to speak, to confess.
âI fear,â he rasps into your skin.
âFear what?â you ask.
He is your protector, your disciple. Yours to command, to damn, to sacrifice if you so wished â and he would gladly spill his corroded innards at your feet, careful not to bloody your shoes. And he fears that you wonât ask him to.
âYou are not mine, but I fear losing you,â he admits. You suck in a breath, arms tightening around him. âIf not to MacTavish, then to the world. I will be left here without you again.â
He squeezes his eyes shut as the scars sear all over again, crushes his crooked nose against your collarbone.
âI am yours,â he whispers, lungs burning, âand I cannot be that if you are gone.â
You shift, pressing closer, tighter. Lay your cheek on his head and squeeze him so tightly he wonders if youâre not inviting him inside your ribcage.
âI thought you understood,â you whisper, and even that cracks with emotion. âIâm sorry, I thought I made it clear. I thought you knewâŚâ
You urge him back. He wants to resist. Wants to stay right there in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the soap you two share, basking in your warmth. But you are bidding him to do something, and he is a weak man to your command.
Your eyes are shiny, but thereâs a smile on your face when you look at him.
âYouâre mine,â you assure him, âyou will always be mine. I will never turn you away.â
His eyes flutter with relief. Always. He has no business questioning the truth of that. Youâve said it; it is so.
âIâm yours too, Nikto.â
His eyes snap open again, but you hold him still, hold him right there.
âOur love isnât a cross for you to bear,â you murmur. âI belong to you the same way â the exact same way â that you are mine.â
âI donâtââ
âYou remember what I told you in that car all those months ago?â
Donât deserve it? Thatâs not your choice. Donât understand? You donât have to. I just do. It wasnât a choice I made.
Your word is genesis. It is revelation. It is creed and commandment, redemption and atonement.
Youâve said it; it is so.
âHere.â
You snatch a pad of black ink from one of the desk drawers, grab at one of his useless, hovering hands.
âWhat are youââ
You smear his bare fingertips across the damp pad. Then press them to your forearm. He jerks his hand back, but itâs too late. His smudged fingerprints stain your skin in inky little pools. When he looks up at you, youâre grinning. Wide and beautiful and so damn proud of yourself.
âCâmon,â you coo. âDo it again.â
He hesitates. But his eyes are drawn back to his fingerprints on your skin. His mind echoes with your declaration.
You are his. You are his.
To deny you this, to deny your belonging, would be beyond blasphemy. Beyond sin.
You have said it; it is so. You. Are. His.
You beam as he takes the inkpad and gets his fingers wet again. Begins leaving marks all over you. Along your arms, over your collarbone. Lean back to get palm prints on your thighs. Sits you on the desk to smear lines up your calves. You even tug your shirt up, giggling all the while, so that he can mark up your stomach.
He pauses at the gunshot. Places his blackened thumb over the entry scar. Pulls it away to see the whorls of his fingerprint covering it.
You soften, kind hands cupping his jaw and guiding him up. Up and up⌠until your plush lips are slotted against his. His own stained hands land on your hips â likely ruining your little sleep shorts â and pull you as close as he can get you. Infusing himself with the taste of you, of your love, of your belonging.
âYours,â you murmur against his mangled mouth.
âYours,â he repeats.
The next day, you walk into the mess hall with Niktoâs fingers hooked into your belt loops. Thereâs a single black smudge on your jaw.
First | Previous | TBC...
Masterlist
1K notes
¡
View notes
Note
hc for adrian having a girlfriend or s/o prior to his mother's death. they're human and maybe her apprentince or something. and the church takes her too, but before they can burn her at the stake, dracula shows up and rescues her because he knows lisa was fond of her. during adrians and draculas fight maybe she interbenes at a critical moments so drac doesnt kill him and alucard gets away but she's now a prisoner of dracula w/n his castle. and maybe she befriends the generals?
A/N: Aw, man. Sometimes I wonder if Lisa did have an apprentice, that maybe Dracula wouldnât be as anti-human as he ended up being, or if she could start to turn him to see the error of his ways sometime before Alucard and Dracula end up in Adrianâs childhood bedroom.Â
Apologies for the delays in updates. But my brain went WILD with this request so itâs a long one, I hope that makes up for the less frequent posting. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these somewhat bittersweet (then depressing then bittersweet again) headcanons!âŻ(Also this is unbeta-ed and prob grammatically messy as hell, so read at your own expense lol.)Â
Word Count: 6.2kÂ
TW: Canon Typical Descriptions of Graphic Violence; Brief Mentions of Sexual Violence; Canon Death; Descriptions of Torture (the church is high-key fucked up here)âŻÂ
Adrian W/ A Human S/O Reader (Whoâs Also Lisaâs Apprentice, Prior to Her Death):Â Â Â
âââââ â âââââ  Â
The Beginning:Â Â Â
Okay, so letâs get one thing straight⌠FIRST OF ALL, Lisa would adore you!!! Like, you make her baby boy happy and youâre smart??? What else is there to it? And then to top it all off, youâre super sweet and kind and interested in learning about medicine and the world around you!  Â
Lisa meets you once over dinner and sheâs already planning the wedding in her head.  Â
Adrian is smitten, because of course he is, but in an adorable, somewhat restrained way. He doesn't have a lot (ahem, ANY) experience in this department, so heâs hesitant to take things forward with you, mainly because he doesnât want to scare you off or make you suspicious about what he is. (Itâs hard to make out with someone when you have two big vampire fangs in the front.)Â Â Â
Adrian is young, like you. So, on top of all the complications, he feels no need to rush things. Sure, heâs heard a few whispers here and there about Dracula having a son, a son who according to rumors and gossiping villagers is to rise as the antithesis of Dracula. Itâs all silly superstition, but it does stay fixed in the back of his mind. What would this future legacy mean for his relationship with you? And, should it ever come to pass, would you even be a part of it?  Â
Thatâs neither here nor there though, and in the meantime, the two of you simply enjoy the talking phase. You get to learn more about each other's interests, and beliefs, but mostly, you spend time in proximity to one anotherâ you remain busy attending to his mother, learning all you can about healing while he, just a table over, spends his time rereading one of his many favorite tomes.  Â
I honestly donât see you meeting Dracula until you and Adrian are like a fully committed couple. Iâm pretty sure you would have to have been Lisaâs apprentice for a while and/or lived with the Tepes in their Lupu cottage for months before Lisa finally breaks through Draculaâs protests and makes him officially meet you.  Â
I donât think that meeting would happen in Lupu either. No, I imagine it would have to take place at Draculaâs castle, just in case you were to freak out, youâd have no way of escaping and telling any others.  Â
I can almost see your reaction being similar to Lisaâs upon first entering the castle, especially if Adrian is already at your side. Donât get me wrong, Iâm sure Dracula is terrifying, but thereâs also a giant telescope in the next room calling your name soâŚ.  Â
Much to Adrianâs relief, this newfound information doesnât make you frightened of him at all, if anything, it simply reignites your fascination with him. You throw rapid-fire questions at him: If he's part vampire, how come youâve seen him eating human food? Does he need both food and blood to satisfy each of his halves? If he needs blood, he could take some of yours you knowâŚÂ  Â
Your penchant for learning softens Dracula a little. For a brief time, he wonders if, perhaps, it was as Lisa said, that the humans could change, that humanity was changing for the better.  Â
He sits across from you at their grand dinner table, watching you intensely as you and Adrian talk about the recent literature youâve read. Youâd no doubt feel Draculaâs all-powerful gaze on you, making you turn to him and⌠Wait, did you just smile?!  Â
Youâve got guts, Dracula will give you that.  Â
Knowing the family secret, you canât exactly break up with Adrian, nor do you have any desire to. I wonder if Dracula would have rings made for the two of you, maybe commission a new family portrait or two.  Â
You stay with Lisa in Lupu during Dracula's travels. Adrian is around, although he's always off between the castle and their cottage, so you never feel entirely alone or vulnerable. Your life is perfect! Itâs better than you could have ever imagined!  Â
That is, untilâŚÂ  Â
âââââ â âââââ  Â
The During:Â Â Â
When the Church comes to take Lisa, you beg them to see reason. You cry and scream, hell, you even try to fight your way out at one point, only for both you and Dr. Tepes to be overpowered by the Churchâs henchman.  Â
The two of you are taken, violently, to Targoviste, where youâre thrown into dark, damp cells with little to no light. Freezing, you huddle together for warmth, each trying your best to reassure the other, that all will turn out well. Adrian was still around, right? Heâll have to come home to find you missing, heâll come and rescue you. And Dracula was due to return soon, correct? Surely, theyâll come. Surely, theyâll stop this madness.  Â
Itâs a few days later, after hours of interrogation and brutal torture that you realize with a heavy heart, that no one is coming to rescue you. And whatâs worse, that these so-called men of the cloth cannot and will not listen to reason. Youâre starved and beaten, your hair is sliced off so close to your skin, that they take bits of your scalp with it in some places. And despite initially being imprisoned with Lisa, you find yourself being separated from her for longer periods.  Â
The men try everything to get you to turn on her. They tell you if you recant her wicked ways now, say she used her evil magic to trick you, your sentencing will be easier. You could still liveâ they dangle betrayal in front of you as a last lifeline. You donât take it of course. You love Mrs. Tepes, and you know sheâs no witch. You muster what little might you have left, spitting at the men as you tell them to go to hell. You swear sheâs innocent, that she knows nothing. Hell, at one point, you find yourself confessing to having manipulated her! You donât think they buy it though, if the poor doctorâs screams from down the hall are anything to go by.  Â
The night they light the pyre, the night of Lisaâs murder, youâre sick on more than one occasion. You scream your throat raw, begging them to burn you first! That she was innocent! That you corrupted her! That it was all your doing! But to no avail.  Â
In a scene that could only rival the Crucifixion of Christ himself, you look up through tear-soaked eyes to see Lisa, enshrouded in flames, begging Dracula to show mercy on her killers, to forgive them, that they know not what they do. âI know it's not your fault,â she cries out, âBut, if you can hear me, they don't know what they're doing! Be better than them. Please!â  Â
You sob and wail, watching as your would-be mother-in-law is burned alive. You scream out for someone, anyone! To please help you, save you! With Lisaâs last words echoing in your mind, you canât help but fear Adrianâs and his Fatherâs reactions, should they find you both killed.
Oh, godsâŚÂ  Â
You donât know what makes you feel sicker⌠The barbaric display youâre witnessing now or the hypothetical one that threatens to wipe out all living people in Wallachia once Dracula learns of whatâs happened. You need not wait long for an answer.  Â
In a fury of fire and grandeur, Draculaâs head appears, molded in flame, demanding to know what has happened to his wife. You cry out to him, apologizing profusely, saying you begged them to burn you first! You scream out how they refused to see reason, they killed her for helping! Injudiciously, in your indignant anger, you plead with Dracula to release his fury on the priests who did this, to send them to hell to be tortured for eternity for this unforgivable transgression!  Â
With the silent fury of a gathering storm, Draculaâs fiery visage speaks calmly as his anger grows concertedly less. "I give you one year Wallachians,â he finally decides. âYou have one year to make your peace and remove any marks you have made upon the land. One year, and I'll wipe all human life from the land of Wallachia. You took that which I love, so I will take from you everything you have and everything you have ever been. One year."Â Â Â
No sooner than he spits out the words, a coil of fire bursts from his image, winding itself around your body. The guards surrounding you gasp and flee, avoiding the coilâs tail as it whips back and forth, hoisting you into the air.  Â
The fiery coil burns your skin, and the smell of even more burnt flesh makes you gag. If you had any bile left over at all, you��re certain itâd come up yet again. The pain is like a thousand stinging nettles and boiling water constricting your arms and midriff all at once. Your vision grows blurry as you feel your body move through the air, your nostrils taking in one last wretched breath of sulfur and smoke.  Â
âââââ â âââââ  Â
The After â Part One:Â Â Â
When you awake you find yourself laid, practically bare, a heap on the floor within Draculaâs castleâ the evil Lord himself only feet away, raging over his magic wellâ as shards of his magic mirror whip around him at incredible speeds. Your head is pounding, it feels as if it might explode, and your arms⌠Fuck.  Â
Where the supernatural coil grabbed you, your skin was red and raw, small pockets of blisters already beginning to form. Your arms tremble uncontrollably as you try to move them, the pain thatâs consuming your nerves is far too intense to hold them steady as you sit up into an upright position.  Â
It doesnât feel real; nothing feels real. It feels like a nightmare. It had all been perfect, everything was perfectâ you all were happy! How did it turn into such horror so fast?  Â
Shakily, you rise to your feet and clutch the remains of your clothes to your chest in an attempt to preserve your modesty, although itâs more of a subconscious act on your part. Everything feels like itâs moving in slow motion, yourself included. Itâs like the air is heavier here somehow, its weight filling your lungs and weighing you down.  Â
A loud noise shocks you back to the present, nearly making you stumble over in fright. At least you would have, had Adrian not used his superspeed to catch you before you fell. One of his gloved hands grasps your left arm directly over the burn, causing you to let out a hiss. His rectangular eyes look wider than youâve ever seen as he releases his grip, looking over your battered form.  Â
â(Y/N) ...â Adrian says, his voice serious and quiet, barely a whisper.  Â
You shake your head furiously, unable to trust your ability to speak without breaking. Upon Adrianâs gentle insistence, you feel your mouth opening, and the words slipping out, scraping against the back of your reddened throat as they exit your frail body.  Â
âThey killed her, AdrianâŚâ you whisper, your voice quivering. âI, we tried to stop them, they just wouldnât listen!â Somehow, your eyes begin to water again, despite your earlier certainty that your body had no water nor tears left in it at all.  Â
âOnce she realized they wouldn't listen to reason, she lied and told them I was innocent. She told them she had manipulated me, that I was just a child, that I didnât know what I was doing, that she never got the chance to teach me!â A feeling of guilt consumes you as you speak the words aloud, and soon enough, your body is once again plagued by uncontrollable sobs.  Â
Adrian listens intently to your words, his brows furrowed. You watch through teary eyes as a range of emotions flash across his face: anger, hurt, pain, sorrow, and finally⌠acceptance. Your beloved hardens his gaze, choking down whatever grief he may be feeling. At the present, Adrian knows, there are more pressing matters at hand.  Â
You follow Adrianâs steely gaze back, seeing his Father where he is bent over his summoning circle, cursing in a language that is foreign to you before he switches back to Romanian.  Â
âOne year! It will take me one year to summon an army from the guts of Hell itself!â Dracula proclaims, promising to enact vengeance for the death of his love.  Â
âNo.â Adrian counters, slipping out of your grasp.  Â
âAdrian,â you whisper, warningly. âDonâtââ  Â
âWhat do you mean, ânoâ? That woman was the only reason on Earth for me to tolerate human life!â Dracula retaliates, enraged his son could even conceive of such lenience.  Â
âThen find the one who did the deed,â Alucard proposes. âIf you set loose an army of the night on Wallachia, you cannot undo it, and many thousands of people just as innocent as her will suffer and die.â  Â
âThere are no innocents! Not anymore! Any one of them could have stood up and said, âNo, we won't behave like animals anymore.â"Â Â Â
â(Y/N) did.â Adrian points out. âShe tried to take all the blame, in an attempt to save Motherâs life.â  Â
Dracula looks over at you with blood-red eyes, contempt clear on his face. âAnd yet,â he snarls, âHere she stands, and my Wife, your Mother does not!â He hisses the last word, livid that out of the two of you, you were the one who survived.  Â
With large, fearful eyes, you watch as Adrian closes the gap between him and his Father.  Â
âI won't let you do it. I grieve with you, but I won't let you commit genocide.â  Â
âAdrian,â you warn again.  Â
The next bit happened all so quickly.  Â
Faster than you could blink, you watch, helpless, frozen in horror as Adrian charges his father, his longsword drawn. Despite their vampiric speed being unrecognizable to the untrained human eye, you swear you watch the scene unfold in slow motion. Adrian charges first, but Dracula, roaring in a fit of rage, counters fasterâ his Fatherâs elongated claws slash diagonally across Adrianâs chest, before his fist pauses, still embedded deep within your loverâs gut.  Â
You donât have time to think before you act. To you, Adrian has the abilities of a god, but to his Father⌠It was clear thereâd be no match. You have no clue how you got your hands on it, no idea as to how you even managed a successful hit, but the next thing you know, a triangular shard of magic mirror is impaled in Great Lord Draculaâs back, put there by your very hand.  Â
Too terrified to even breathe, the only sound you can hear beyond your racing pulse is a wet, gory squelch as Dracula retracts his claws from Adrianâs body. You hear the spray of blood before you see it, a rush of bright red blood gushes onto the marble floor between Dracula and his son.  Â
Standing at his impressive full height, Dracula turns ever so slowly, ever so menacingly, to face you. His pupils are that of a blood moon, his sclera so bloodshot they practically look as black as night. In that second, you know youâve fucked up.  Â
You cower as Dracula raises one hand to you, instinctively shielding your neck from his nasty bloodied talons. With surprisingly repressed strength, Dracula backhands you, the force sending you flying backward, smashing into the base of one of the curved bookshelves lining the walls of his summoning room.  Â
With his focus still on you, Dracula stalks toward you. Knowing itâs now or never, you scream at Adrian to flee. âRun!â The words rip out of your raw throat, sounding like an eleventh commandment.  Â
You see Adrian, previously stunned by his Fatherâs disregard for his life, holding together the gaping wound across his chest. He has no time to even spare you, his beloved, a last look before evaporating into clouds, his cloud of bloodied mist bolting for the door, fleeing as fast as his injured state would allow him.  Â
Dracula only turns to watch as his son, his very possibly fatally wounded son, flees the confines of his castle. For a moment it is silentâ only the sound of both yours and Draculaâs heaving breaths echo across the chamber.  Â
Clenching his clawed fingers into a fist, Dracula says nothing as he too makes his way to the castle doors, leaving your bruised and broken body alone in the dark.  Â
âââââ â âââââ  Â
The After â Part Two:Â Â Â
Somehow, Christ only knows, you find your way to one of Lisaâs old labs and do a half-assed job of patching yourself up. You find your burns and dislocated shoulder to be the most painful of injuries.   Â
Thankfully, Lisa had taught you enough about setting a patientâs shoulder that you managed to smash it into an adjacent wall, popping your joint back in yourself. The burns you wrap in honey and milk-soaked linen gauze, wincing every time the bandages brush against your skin. Itâs awful work, slow work too, but you must have managed it alright because you find yourself patched up and passed out in one of the castleâs kitchens a few hours (or days? had it been days?) after that.  Â
You eat raw vegetables and berriesâ nothing that requires cooking. Lord knows you couldn't prepare anything successfully now even if you were to try. Eating your foraged meal in silence you debate your next steps. Do you go back home? Would your family even welcome you home after your long and unexplained absence? And if they, along with all the humans in Wallachia were ultimately to be driven from the land, did it matter anyway?  Â
âOh god,â you think. You have to warn them, have to make them flee before a year is up. But where would you go? Where could you go? Greater Styria was a possibility, although it was not by any means an easy journey, and the climate there was much colder than your folks were used to here. You shakily rise to your feet and set out to find a map within one of the Castleâs many libraries.  Â
After a good nightâs rest, you find your mindset with a newfound determination: you will go home. You were going to get your family on the move and then⌠Then, youâd come back here.  Â
You knew, in all likelihood, that returning to Draculaâs castle after the fact entailed certain death. But you also knew, things would get worse if he were to be left alone.  Â
Dracula may not have ever loved you for a daughter-in-law. Hell, he may not have ever loved anyone aside from Mrs. Tepes, but you promised her while huddling together that first night in those dingy cells that no matter what happened, should either of you get out alive, you would not leave Adrian and Vlad. âThey need humans, (Y/N),â Lisa coughed into your ear. âAnd most importantly, humanity needs them.â  Â
Dracula would resent your company, he would want to be rid of you. But you could not be rid of him, not after what Lisa had asked of you.  Â
âBesides,â you thought, âNobody should have to grieve alone.â  Â
The journey back home to your parents is majorly uneventful. Sure, it was touch and go for a while, your body was exhausted after the ordeal you endured, and your wounds had gotten infected once or twice. Thankfully, you had the mind to pack with you any potential treatments you might need.  Â
It felt good to be home, to be amongst family again. You couldnât stop crying and hugging everyone when you first arrived. You kept the details to a minimum but made it clear they needed to be the hell out of Wallachia before a year. You told them you had found an apprenticeship, that the woman was kind to you, but while in Targoviste, you saw the burning of a witch, and soon after the face of Satan himself appeared in flames, threatening the crowd. It caused a panic, you see, and you had gotten trampled in the process.  Â
You didnât bother to explain that the woman you were learning under was this so-called witch and that this Satanic figure was her husband. Nor did you tell them of your half-inhuman partner. You knew had you told the family the whole truth, they might have cast you out as a devil worshiper and a liar and choose not to heed your words.  Â
Your warnings spread through your extended family like how ivy creeps up a stone wall. A fair part of your relatives in the country believed you enough to agree to uproot their lives and settle outside of Wallachia: some settled on Syria, others had decided on Greece, Egypt, or Rome. The more skeptical ones who hemmed and hawed over the validity of your claims agreed to move into the countryside, a decent distance from any major Wallachian city or village.  Â
When you were certain theyâd heed your words, you told them you could not stay with them, your Mother wept for three straight days and your Father could do little to console her. As much as it broke your familyâs heart, you knew that your need to return to Castlevania was larger than yours. You weren't just doing it for your family, you were doing it for every family across the land. You couldn't be selfish. Mrs. Tepes was the most selfless woman you had met, and she taught you well. If you meant what you said to her when you first met, that you wanted to help people, you would need to buck up and accept the consequences of that.  Â
Your journey back to the castle was much more melancholy than your journey home. You could almost feel the whispers of the tortured souls Dracula had slain before blowing cold air into your ears, begging you to turn back. Nevertheless, you continued. You entered Castlevania to find you were alone, however, that would not be the case for long.  Â
Months later you had fallen into somewhat of a predictable routine within the castle and its new occupants. Dracula had recruited two humans to serve as his war plannersâ men by the names of Hector and Isaac, respectively. You appreciate the levity Hector, and his undead pets bring, and you admire the intelligence and loyalty Isaac has. You just wish they werenât going along with Draculaâs plan.  Â
You tread carefully as you find the time to express to each of his Generals that you wish they wouldnât go through with this plan. You explain humans are not the kind of species to give in to subjugation, they will revolt eventually.âŻYou suggest the vampires come up with some sort of tit-for-tat system with the humans instead like, for example, promised blood servants would equal vampiric protection for that territory. Â
Itâs safe to say no one is impressed with your centrist ideals, so eventually stop taking part in the conversation. You silently hang around Hector, and just listen with a sorrowful expression, satisfied with knowing that if you canât change the Generals' minds, you can, at the very least, make them somewhat uncomfortable. Â
When Carmilla arrives, youâre immediately put off by her little display of insolence. Unlike yours, her dissent doesnât seem to come from a place of concern. You make a mental note to keep an eye on her. Â
Itâs during the General's next argument that you receive a ray of hope: âWe are quite certain that Alucard sleeps at Gresit.â Â
You feel your body grow lighter. Â
âSo, that means,â you speak aloud to yourself more so to anyone else, âAdrian is alive?â Â
Youâre met with a handful of annoyed glares from the other vampires as Isaac continues: âAnd that there was recently a Belmont there.â Â
Upon hearing Carmilla berate the others for not sending night creatures to the ancestral Belmont home, your smile falls and your improved mood falters. These Belmonts were famous monster hunters, famous enough to frighten your current vampire company. That means, if there was a Belmont in Gresit, at the same time as Adrian, as Alucard, whatever the hell heâs going by these days, it could prove disastrous for your love. For all you know, heâs still recovering from the wounds dealt to him by his Father. And if this Belmont, this monster hunter strikes first and asks questions later, he may accidentally kill the only living vampire in existence who stands against the very nature of this war. Â
âHow ironic,â you think solemnly. Just as fast as the universe gives you hope, it rips it away once more. Â
You excuse yourself, and make your way towards Hectorâs forge, aiming to distract your distraught mind with some cute reanimated pets. Â
Shortly thereafter, Hector joins you. He asks if you truly did not know Draculaâs son was still alive. You shake your head ânoâ, telling him how you had prayed every past night to any God who would listen, that they would send their holy armies and angels to guard him, but no, you had mostly just feared he was dead. Â
You spend the rest of the night talking to Hector about Alucard, Adrian as you knew him. How smart he was, how much the two of you used to laugh, and how much he looked just like his Mother. Â
âPerhaps thatâs why,â Hector supposes, âDracula could no longer bear to see him.â Â
You say perchance heâs right, conveniently leaving out the part where the Father and Son duo almost fought to the death right in front of you. Â
The conversation with Hector reignites something within you. You feel as if you had been praying all this time for an answer, and this was it. Alucard was alive, and so was Belmont. You understand now what needs to be done. Â
Your lover must once again fight his Father, and this time, he must win. Â
Your silent observations allow you to learn of Carmillaâs scheme fairly early on, as well as Godbrandâs demise at the hands of Isaac, yet all that time, you say nothing. You keep your mouth shut and your eyes down. If Carmilla divides Draculaâs army and court, she will inevitably make it easier for Alucard and Belmont to destroy him. Â
The Generals, and even Dracula himself, believe you are mourning the loss of your love for the second time, as his demise will be inevitable the moment he meets his Father and his armiesâ or at least, thatâs what they assume. Â
When Carmilla has Hector send special night creatures to the remains of the Belmont home, you attach a letter around one of the creature's necks, hoping your love will notice it, and if he doesnât, you pray he instinctively outwits the traps that await for him within his Fatherâs castle. Â
âââââ â âââââ  Â
Beginning Again:Â Â Â
The night Dracula chooses to move the Castle to Braila, you manage to speak with him one last time. Â
You bring him some tea, even though you know he wonât drink it, and you tell him, for what must be the hundredth time, how sorry you are about all thatâs happened. You apologize for not being able to do more to save his wife. You tell him that if you could do it all over again if you were given a choice between who they should burn first, youâd demand it be you. Â
Dracula turns away from the fire to look at you upon hearing those words. Â
âShe was fond of you, you know.â He says, sounding far away as if lost in a distant memory. âShe was overjoyed at the thought of gaining a daughterâ Â
You nodded along a hurt smile on your face. âIt was my honor.â Gathering your courage you continued: âEven though it didnât work out, I want you to know I loved your wife very much⌠And,â you kept going. âI love your son very much.â Â
Dracula said nothing. He simply turned his attention back to the flames within his studyâs fireplace. Â
âItâs not too late, you know,â you prod gently. âIf Adrian is alive, he could still come back, we could still be a family-â Â
âNo!â Draculaâs low growl sent shivers down your spine. Â
For a moment you feared he would rise to attack you or perhaps berate you further, but no such action came. Instead, the former Great Lord Draculaâs shoulders deflated back to their hunched position, as he fell silent once again. Â
Quietly, you made your way back to your room, shutting and locking the door behind you. If you had any tears left at all, you would have shed them throughout the night. Instead, you merely lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if there would even be a tomorrow to awaken to. Â
Pleased to still be alive at this point, but feeling increasingly suffocated by this overwhelming sense of doom, you spend the next day cooped up in your room, on your knees, the rosary in your hand, whispering prayers of safety for your loved one. You couldn't explain it, but at the time, you felt compelled to recite prayer after prayer and reveal all the fears and worries in your heart. Â
You speak out to Death, to God, to all the angels and saints, and beg them to grant Adrian safe passage as he completes his task of saving humanityâ itâs something his Mother would have wanted after all. Â
Amidst your fervent prayers, you feel the Castle shake and creak, but you soon realize something is off: it keeps jerking from side to side, several times, way too many to be a case of a single relocation. Your heart races, and in the pit of your gut, you know this is it:
The Alucard has come. Â
Your love has come back for you. Â
You scramble behind the door, poised with a wooden stake in hand (just in case, you never know), and wait. Â
And wait. Â
And wait. Â
Following a crescendo of metallic crashes and screaming, you hear more crashes, this time lesser in intensity and theyâre accompanied by the distinct scent of fire, sulfur, and burnt flesh. Â
It terrifies you, bringing such horrible memories of your almost demise to the surface. You look down at the burn scars on your arms and feel physically ill. Every time you shut your eyes to blink, you see the corpse of Ms. Tepes, burning alive right before you as if no time has passed at all, as if youâre trapped in the permanent hell of that memory. Â
The overwhelming ornery atmosphere in the castle only grows, seeming to suddenly flood your nostrils and every pore. Â
You watch in shock and horror as thousands of soot-colored transparent ghouls burst through your doorway, the shock of the impact sending you reeling into the bed. Tortured faces of all shapes and sizes circle you menacingly, before bursting through your roomâs glass window, vanishing just as fast as they came. Â
Within an instant you feel⌠lighter, freer almost. Itâs as if something major has changed, but you donât know what. Â
Timidly, stake still in hand, you make your way down the castle corridors. Unfortunately, you have to take several detours, your regular route being cut off by giant holes in the architecture. A good portion of the castle looks like it had been hit with cannon fire. Â
You sincerely hope that whatever caused that damage is no longer rampaging around these halls, lest you stumble upon them yourself. Â
By the time you reach the throne room, the sun is just peeking out from behind the horizon. The sight of it flowing freely into the castle interior lifts your spirits with hope. Sunlight means no vampires. No vampires meansâŚ
You follow the originating path of the sunâs beams, finding three figures illustrated against the sunrise. One of them is a burly-looking man, with a large frame and broad shoulders. Another is a woman, at least, youâre fairly certain theyâre a woman, with curly hair, dressed in flowing blue robes. And the third isâŚ. Â
You donât even need a second glance to know who the third person is. Â
Crying out his name, you run towards your long-lost lover, almost losing your footing over all the debris covering the floor. But just as he would before, and just as he always would, your lover, Adrian, catches you before you can fall. Â
The two of you cling to each other for dear life, just silently sobbing, feeling grateful to be in one anotherâs embrace. Youâre not sure how long the two of you stay intertwined like that, you just know however long it was, it could never be enough to make up for how much you missed him this past year. Â
âAdrian,â you clutch his coat, âI thought you were dead! I thought he had killed you! I was so worried.â Â
âHe almost did,â the strange broad-shoulder man reveals in a teasing fashion. You watch as the robed woman elbows him in the gut. Â
âAlucard,â Adrian says, regaining your attention as he grasps your hands in his. âI am Alucard now.â Â
You look into his golden eyes, sensing while this is still very much the body of the man you loved, this Alucard before you, is not the same person that your Adrian was. After all this time, it feels like quite the loss, and yet, you cannot fault him for it. You are unaware of the journey heâs been on, of the sacrifices heâs had to make. God knows your character must have changed as well, living amongst a vampire court and necromancers for just under a year. Â
You back away from your love, temporarily ignoring his concerned expression. Â
âHello Alucard,â you say, extending a hand, âMy name is (Y/N). And Iâd very much like to share a drink with you if youâd let me.â Â
âDonâ know about Alucard,â the broad man mumbles, gripping his side in pain, âBut Iâd very much like a drink. Or five.â Â
âTrevor!â The robed woman scolds. Â
âWhat?â Â
You smile at the three of them, feeling beyond blessed that your love has found such wonderful new friends. Â
When you had first fallen for Adrian, you assumed your family would consist solely of him, his mother, and his father, that youâd spend the rest of your days learning medicine in a little cottage nestled in Lupu. That simple life was to be yours. But now, itâs all changed. And Alucard is all that remains of that family you once loved. Â
You gaze out into the forest beyond the castle grounds, closing your eyes and sighing as you feel the morningâs sun on your face. Â
Yes, it was true Mrs. and Mr. Tepes were gone.
It was true that the old Adrian could never come back.
But if you had to choose a new life, a life here amongst a gorgeous castle, with your former lover and his two new friends, well⌠you doubted you could pick a better one than that. Â
A/N 2.0: WHY DID THIS TAKE ME SO LOOOONG? Who knows? Anyway, itâs here now. And heyâ did you pay close attention to the symbols in the dividers? Go ahead and look back if you didnât, just a silly little fun symbolism storytelling. Oh, also, I will finally be updating The Queue List to reflect all the asks Iâve since answered and posted to not confuse people checking on the status of their ask/new readers.
If you liked reading this, please REBLOG! Likes are great but reblogs spread my work much further.Â
If you really, really liked reading this, Consider Buying Me a Coffee <3.Â
#adrian tepes x reader#alucard castlevania#alucard x reader#alucard x you#alucard imagine#adrian fahrenheit tepes#adrian tepes#alucard#castlevania imagine#castlevania x reader
572 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Kang No-eul / Guard 011 Headcanons
Pairing: Kang No-eul / Guard 011 x fem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of drinking/alcohol, other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)
ŕŞââ´ Working that shitty job as a costume performer at your local amusement park was hard enough, and the money problems that plagued your every thought were making the situation worse. Most of your co-workers would go out for dinner together after your shift, basically only to drink their problems away and forget about this hell for a night. The only one who'd also stay behind like you was No-eul. You didn't know much about her, as she'd be super secretive about her life, but you at least knew she was a nice person.
ŕŞââ´ One time after work it was literally pouring outside, and since you didn't own a car or an umbrella apparently, she offered to take you home with her. You guys hurried over her car and got in as soon as possible and only then you noticed that it seemed like she was living in here. Looking at No-eul, you could tell that she was slightly embarrassed, so you didn't bother mention it or asking about it â Instead, you thanked her a thousand times and more for taking you home.
ŕŞââ´ From then on, she'd drive you home one or two times a week so you wouldn't have to take public transportation. At one point, you invited No-eul in, offering to cook dinner as a thank you to her. After a few times it became a regular thing and she actually seemed like she was enjoying it, a smile replacing her usual stoic expression. You also never quite understood how she was so good at her job, entertaining the kids and all, when she was the complete opposite when taking the heavy costume off.
ŕŞââ´ She'd help you out in the kitchen sometimes, often catching herself staring at some old childhood pictures of you that you hung up on the refrigerator.
"Oh, that one is cute." No-eul mumbled, pointing at a picture taken at one of your school's dance recitals when you were quite young. "Huh? Oh yeah," you turned around to the picture she was pointing at chuckling a bit, "I was like what? Maybe three? Four? It's one of my mom's favorite pictures, though." You didn't get a reponse back. When you turned around again, No-eul was still staring at it almost longingly.
ŕŞââ´ Back at work, you were the only person she'd talk with during the breaks. Some of your co-workers would ask you how you gained her trust like that, since No-eul didn't even speak to them directly at all. You'd just shrug, not knowing how to answer them. Perhaps it was a bit strange how much she seemed to like you, but you certainly weren't complaining.
ŕŞââ´ After some time, she'd open up to you about some of the things in her past and she explained her reason for living in her car with that she simply didn't have the money for an apartment. Apparently, she urgently needed it for something else, but she wouldn't tell you more about it. Just the fact No-eul was ready to share bits of her private life with you made your heart feel warm. You liked that she felt safe around you, and she did, too.
ŕŞââ´ It got really late one night, so you offered her to sleep over at your place, since you probably owed her so much in gas money anyway. With a bit of hesitation, she'd accept, a genuine smile gracing her face. She was kind of forced to sleep in your bed as well, since your couch was just not big enough for one person to sleep on. No matter how much you apologized for that, No-eul would reassure you that this was more than fine and that she was really thankful you did this for her. She'd take your hand to squeeze it a couple of times to emphasize her words, even.
ŕŞââ´ It felt like you two were teenage girls again, having a sleepover while you got ready for bed. No-eul showing you real emotions like happiness, excitement and gratefulness was so weird but also very appreciated by you. You never thought you'd come this close to her, shoulder on shoulder while laying together in your bed. Neither you or her minded it at all though and that was evident through the comfortable silence between you two. Not much had to be said in the moment for it to not be awkward.
ŕŞââ´ When you woke up the morning after, No-eul was gone. You had figured that she'd probably be prone to do that, but you were still a bit baffled when finding the spot next to you cold and empty. She needed to get something done, that's at least what her text message said. This was typical No-eul, even if this was the first time this had happened.
ŕŞââ´ No-eul wasn't able to get you out of her head. You were so irreducibly kind, soft spoken, pretty and just something that sge wasn't. Even back in the car she couldn't contain a smile when thinking about you, the conversations you had, your laugh, your face.. it wasn't like she didn't like it. She just wasn't used to this feeling at all ever since leaving her home years ago. But perhaps, just for you, she'd be ready to get used to it again.
#squid game#squid game fanfic#squid game season 2#squid game x reader#squid games#squid games x reader#kang no eul#kang no eul x reader#guard 011#no eul#no eul x reader#wlw post#wlw#wlw fanfic
388 notes
¡
View notes
Text
what comes after | jsc
pairing: college fwb!sungchan x fem!reader word count: 21.6k
authorâs note: soooo, Iâm back to writing after a long break. this is my first riize fic and Sungchan practically hauled this monster out of my insides until it became 21k. I wrote most of this while listening to sabrina carpenterâs new album and i think sharpest tool, juno and lie to girls fit really well with the theme of this work. english is not my first language, so please be kind if you're going to point out any mistakes. I hope you guys like this.
contents: smut. some fluff. angst, angst & angst (specially towards the end). switch!reader and switch!sungchan. sex with a condom, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving). pet names. ass man!sungchan. reader has thoughts on family trauma and self-hatred. random idols mentioned for worldbuilding. sungchan is pretty much an asshole in the end. no HEA.
you can also read this work on my ao3, if you'd like
You feel pathetic. With a raincoat covered in water splatters and standing on your favorite white sneakers â now mud covered and wet â in front of your situationshipâs apartment after ringing the doorbell, you truly feel like an idiot.
Itâs been over two weeks since he last texted you and here you are, waiting for him to open his door after calling him on a whim, asking for permission to come and see him. But it was a rough day in a rough week in a rough month in a rough trimester and when you finished your last exam of the day and the rain started pouring down while you were on the bus on your way home, your heart made a last-minute decision to ring him up.
So now here you are, feeling pathetic.
Surprisingly, despite the radio silence for the last fortnight, the door opens quickly to reveal a worried Sungchan with a fresh and fluffy towel in his hands as he urges you inside, hand clasping over yours to pull you away from the cold and into the warmth of his home.
He closes the door with his free hand and his eyes instantly fall onto your body to inspect the damage caused by the storm, the dirt and the finals. You canât help but feel heat under his gaze, your limbs already growing hot after being in his presence for two seconds. Itâs your body's natural response to him since the day you met.
âWhy didnât you call me after you finished your exam?â are his first words to you as his hands take your bag and your raincoat off of your arms, both items falling on the floor around your ankles. âI wouldâve picked you up.â
The way he says it almost makes you want to apologize for not doing it, but, in all honesty, you donât quite believe he wouldâve picked you up. Two weeks of not talking is a considerable amount of time, after all. So you bite your tongue and reply with the second thing that comes on your head instead.
âDidnât even think about it. The rain started after I took the bus,â you say, feeling him wrap you in the towel he brought, hands pressing on your arms to make it absorb the rainwater covering you.
He stays silent as he dries you up, expertly and swiftly moving the towel over the areas of your body that were most affected by the downpour, his furrowed eyebrows showing his concentration. You have to actively stop yourself from reaching up to smooth them over, your hands itching to touch him. But in just fifteen seconds your upper half is dried and he squats down to inspect your legs.
He stops with his right hand on your left calf, looking up at you once he sees the mud covering your jeans.
âShit, youâre a mess,â he sighs, a small chuckle coming out of his throat, too. âYouâre gonna have to take a shower.â
âOh,â you say, mind still understanding his request while your eyes focus on his. After a beat, you realize that you feel kind of insecure of showering in his place when you donât know where you both stand on your relationship, so you shake your head. âI can go home to shower and come back later, if itâs okay with you.â
He shakes his head back at you. âNo, itâs not. Thatâd be dumb,â he says, standing up in his full height and making you change your gaze from looking down to looking up at him. You feel a pang in your chest at the rejection, thinking heâs saying it would be stupid to come back to him after, but he smooths one hand over your shoulder and clarifies. âWhy would you do that when thereâs a perfectly good bathroom here you can use?â
You blink at him, your head again very slow in keeping up with his words. Maybe itâs because itâs been a rough day in a rough week in a rough month in a rough trimester. Maybe itâs because your last brain cell was burned while taking your international law exam. Maybe itâs being close with him again after some time, seeing his deep brown eyes, smelling his cologne and standing in his apartment that makes you so dull. Maybe itâs every one of those reasons. At this moment, you think youâre more pathetic than ever.
And youâre pretty sure Sungchan thinks you are, too, because his features crease again as he looks at you, taking a step back and tugging on your hand to come with him. âCome on. Iâll put your clothes in the washer while you shower.â
You quickly step on the heels of your shoes to take them off and follow him down the hallway to the small bathroom by the end of it. Sungchan fetches you a sealed bar of soap from the cabinet under the sink and a new fluffy towel from his dresser. Then, he waits outside of the bathroom for you to strip off your clothes and hand him every piece â hoodie, shirt, pants, undergarments and socks â through the half open door. He smiles at you for only a second before turning on his heels to take the clothes to the washer, saying you can take your time.
You leave the door leaning on its threshold, not quite closed, because, first of all, Sungchan has seen you naked multiple times and thereâs no reason to be shy now, and second of all, you half expect him to come join you. So, you step in the shower, the white tiles cold against your toes as you turn the tap to burning hot just how you like it.
Itâs relaxing having the heated water hitting your naked skin after being out in the cold with wet clothes for minutes that felt like years. You indulge yourself in it, sighing and letting your limbs loose, facing down and resting the top of your head against the tiles under the head of the shower, moving your body to fully stand under the water to feel it hit your shoulders as your mind travels back to Sungchan. Itâs hard to over analyze his every move, touch and word when heâs just a few steps from you. But youâre an expert on doing that in every possible scenario by now. So, you recall every second of your five-minute interaction with him since you stepped inside his place, trying to look for signs of anything. You try to discover if heâs bothered by your presence or if he looked happy to see you, if he helped you out because of his affection or just general kindness, if he was worried because he cares about you in a special way or just because he cares. Still, you canât come up with answers to your doubts because he was always pretty hard to read anyway.
You try to discover if heâs bothered by your presence or if he looked happy to see you, if he helped you out because of his affection or just general kindness, if he was worried because he cares about you in a special way or just because he cares. Still, you canât come up with answers to your doubts because he was always pretty hard to read anyway.
Sungchan is a man of few actions and even lesser words. Although youâve seen him being comfortable and goofy around friends, he often keeps to himself and can even be described as a shy person most of the days. Even though his playful side comes up occasionally when heâs with you, most of the time you are met with silence that makes you conjecture a million theories that are never proven.
Plus, youâre achingly jumbled today and the truth is you always feel foolish around him. Like your strong attraction to him makes you dim-witted, tongue-tied and incoherent. Just like the first time you ever saw him.
The first time you ever saw him was in your freshman year in the second semester at college, in your Ethics class. Heâs a STEM major, which obviously meant he was taking it for an extra credit, but you didnât know that yet when you walked into the east building expecting to see a class filled with law students and came across the tall and hot math nerd.
One moment, you are hurriedly walking up the steps to your seat as the lecture hall fills with scholars and your professor takes his place in front of the board. In the next one, youâre bumping into a desk and sending a collection of papers and one very pricey scientific calculator to fall on the ground with loud bangs and blasts. Youâre desperate as you squat down and rest your books on the following step to search for the batteries and the hood of the calculator that flew around during your mishap. And as your hand finds the last battery missing, another hand clasps over it to retrieve the item and you glance up to meet Sungchanâs eyes. You both stand up at the same time, in which you notice how tall he is, your senses taking in his soft hair, strong grip and big eyes surrounded by his glassesâ frame. And then you flinch, taking your hand back from his and muttering a small hushed apology before walking the last steps to your desk and avoiding eye contact with him for the rest of the lesson.
When class is dismissed, despite feeling extremely embarrassed, you gather up your courage and walk down to his desk to apologize profusely, saying how deeply bad youâre feeling and asking if his calculator is still working or if you have to work out a plan to pay for a new one for him.
âDonât worry. Itâs working fine,â he says, the sound of his voice sending a crazy shiver up your spine you never felt before. The first one of many to come. âBut if youâre feeling deeply bad about it, you can take me out for dinner.â
You blink at him. The first one of many dim-witted moments to come in his presence. And he chuckles, fingers brushing over your elbow as he steps back from his desk and maneuvers you fully in front of him. You feel your organs internally jolting, like youâve been struck by an electric shock or like you were numb and dead until now and have suddenly been relieved by a crazy scientist. And itâs all because of his small touch.
âIâm kidding,â he announces after you fail to reply, removing his hand from you, his eyes looking down and the tips of his ears tinting red as he says it. âWeâre fine. Thereâs no need to apologize anymore.â
âThank you for being so understanding,â you reply, finally getting out of your head and finding your voice again after being revived by his fingertips. âReally. Most people wouldnât be this chill.â
He walks around you with one hand on the strap of his backpack and steps down two levels of the stairs, becoming almost eye-level with you when he raises an eyebrow up and says, âGuess Iâm not like most people.â
And then he turns his back on you, finishing the final steps of the lecture hall and getting out as you stupidly blink at his back.
Itâs ridiculous how much you become obsessed with him after that.
Even though you consider yourself smart enough to not develop a crush on your first year of college, you walk head first into that booby trap. Very quickly and happily, too.Â
It takes you a few days after your first meeting to learn that heâs actually a sophomore majoring in biological engineering, which didnât help at all, because your social sciences brain couldnât understand a thing about STEM. You also learn that heâs originally from another state and that, yes, he is in your Ethics class for an extra credit. From observing him in your shared class, you figure out he actually keeps to himself and likes to doodle on his textbook while the professor is talking. From a couple of shared acquaintances, youâre told that heâs shy, has never been seen with a partner before and doesnât really attend parties. Heâs a quiet one, they say. So much so that when you tell the person that he jokingly asked you out when you bumped into him, they donât quite believe you.
As the weeks go by with no new interaction between you two except for the few stolen glances you throw his way during lessons, you start to think you imagined the whole thing. The electric buzz in your inner system when he touched you, the blush on his cheeks and ears, the way his eyes scanned you up and down and how his hand lingered a little too long on your arm⌠It could all just be a fleeting moment. Or only a natural response of your body from seeing and being close to such an attractive person. It certainly couldnât mean anything special. You convince yourself that it meant nothing.
And then, the next day, you see him at a cafĂŠ close to campus. Heâs there with a few close friends, chatting up and joking with each other, and youâre intrigued by how his smiles are easier to appear and how loud he can laugh in a candid and carefree moment. Also, you feel that same attraction again. That gut-punching-needing-to-be-closer magnetic pull between you two. It makes your nerves stand on end, goosebumps raise all over your body and your focus zero on him. It makes your skin prickle, like every atom of your body is buzzing in excitement and craving to be touched by him. And by the way Sungchanâs breath catches when his eyes meet yours and his posture changes, secretly eyeing you up and down every chance he gets, you can tell he feels it, too.
But it takes so long for you to be close to him. Being from strikingly different majors, you are almost never in the same parts of campus. Apart from the class you two met in and the programming class you took in your sophomore year â which you swore to your friends it was just because you were curious about it and not because of the student body attending to it â you mostly live different lives and stand out of each other's ways.
However, slowly and surely, your life becomes intertwined with his, like someone is playing puzzles with the pieces of you both. First, you become a TA to your environmental law Professor and end up tutoring one-on-one with his cousin Sungho. One day, while you are reviewing the paper he wrote for his class, Sungho tells you how Sungchan said âsheâs super hotâ when he told him you were his TA. You have to hide your smile behind the paper sheets in your hands to not give away that youâre attracted to him and scold Sungho for distracting you. Thatâs the first time you have actual evidence of Sungchanâs interest in you and it makes you smile for days.
Then, one of your friends starts hooking up with one of his friends and soon enough you are hanging out together in the same group. It helps you discover new things about him to obsess about. Like how he has the cutest mole on the corner of his upper lip you just need to drop a kiss on. And how his closest friends often call him Jinsu and how he always smiles when he hears it. You learn heâs a gym rat. And that heâs always down to help his peers whenever they have a problem and need a hand. Itâs so freaking adorable.
And then, you both join in an extracurricular philosophy workshop you couldâve sworn you heard him ask Haneul, your friend, when was the final date of submission to in one of your hangouts. All these new opportunities to meet him frequently allow you to actually talk to him a few times, and soon enough you're sharing stories about your lives, joking and flirting with each other.
And thatâs how, finally, in your junior year of college, your and Sungchanâs paths are unmistakably crossed and you become actual friends. So, when you surprisingly see him at a frat party, itâs natural for you to greet him while he plays Super Mario Bros with his friend Sohee. You strike a conversation about how you thought he didnât like parties and Sungchan confirms itâs true and tells you how Sohee is a member of the fraternity and actually dragged him there. You laugh at his antics and then he jokes about something else so you smile again.
You want to sit next to him to keep your conversation going, but thereâs a bunch of people littered across the room in various stages of drunkenness and practically no space left on the couch heâs on. Sungchan notices your eyes searching for a spot and makes as much room as he can, pulling you to sit on the arm of the sofa next to him. Then, he slings one arm around your body, keeping you steady and close to him, and rests his hand on your lap, his other hand joining from your opposite side with the video game controller. While he fixes his grip on the controller to keep playing, his knuckles graze your jeans clad thighs and you realize that youâre trapped around his arms for the time being.
It makes you instantly go rigid, his sudden closeness already making you dizzy and short of breath. And then, like itâs an afterthought of his, Sungchan leans on your side and looks up at you, his eyes carefully watching your reaction as he asks, âIs this okay?â
You purse your lips together and nod even though the thumping of your heart is so loud in your ears youâre not sure you heard him correctly. âYeah.â
He nods back at you, a close-lipped smile appearing on his lips as he focuses back on the game playing on the TV. You have to concentrate on keeping your breaths steady as the side of his face brushes your arms, his hair soft and his stubble rough on your skin. You have to bite on your lower lip to keep yourself from sighing when his hands press on your thighs or on your lower stomach, controller lying in your lap as he waits for the game to load. Only after a while you feel comfortable enough to sit back against the cushions and let your hand wander to his shoulders, trembling fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt because your hormones are in a frenzy inside of you.
âYou having fun?â He asks after they finish off a match on the game, hot breath falling over your arm and sending an electrical current on your body.
âYeah. Until now, at least,â you reply, dangling your feet under you to give you something to focus on that itâs not him.
âWanna have more fun?â He asks, and thereâs an unmistakable glint in his eye that sends butterflies flying around in your stomach.
âLike what?â You reply, purposely leaning into the obvious sinful intentions laced in his words.
âWe can get out of here,â he says then, fingers twitching the hem of your shirt and brushing on your skin, eyes scanning over your features and looking for any signs that youâre uncomfortable by his actions or words. He licks his lips when he notices how your eyes drop to his mouth and moves his hand to play with a strand of your hair before finishing off his proposition. âHave a drink somewhere more private⌠If you want.â
You know that the drink is an excuse for something else and that somewhere more private is actually his house. But youâve been wanting this for so long that you have no desire to play it cool or pretend you donât want this.
âSure,â is all you reply, accepting whatever fate has in store for you now.
When Sungchan gets up from the couch and says goodbyes to his friends, he grabs your hand for you two to leave together, checking your eyes one last time to be sure youâre willing to do this just as much as him. You smile at him and that seems to be enough to placate his worries, because he smiles back and pushes you to follow through. You know youâll kiss him as you make your way down the stairs of the frat house, one hand still gripping Sungchanâs and the other texting your friends to let them know youâre leaving with him. You know youâll at least make out when he shields your side, protecting you from any unsteady drunk that may trip over you as you try to reach the door out of the house. And youâre pretty sure youâll fuck as you both wait on the sidewalk for the Uber he asked for, his hand intertwined with yours as he hums along with the music from the party.
Still, you pretend like youâre naĂŻve and clueless just for the mystery still hanging in the air.
Once the car pulls up on the curb, Sungchan leads you inside and enters after. He still holds your hand, resting it against his thigh as you take the left seat of the car and he sits back on the right one. The middle seat between you both is vacant and none of you make a move to sit closer to one another. You can cut the tension with a knife as soon as the car moves and the music from the party fades away. Slowly, he starts to play with your hand, rubbing and grabbing at your knuckles and you hold your breath. A moment later, your palm is up on his lap as he spreads your fingers open, his nails softly grazing the length of each and every one of them. He chuckles when the action makes you shiver and you hide your face with your free hand from embarrassment, turning away to look out the window. But then he changes places, splaying his fingers so you can rub your nails on the length of them now, and the same shudder that ran through you takes over Sungchanâs body, a cute blush appearing on his cheeks. Sungchan is a man of few actions and even lesser words. But in that moment, using just the palm of your hands, he chose to become vulnerable to you. His attitude says this is real and I feel it too. And you canât be more grateful for him finally dropping the mysterious act and becoming transparent for once. At that, you smile and he intertwines his fingers with yours, clutching your hand fully.
You both stop watching your hands to finally look at one another. He sighs contentedly under your gaze and his free hand, the one that isnât already attached to yours, finds its way on your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. His eyes slip to your lips and back to your eyes, searching for something. And only after you nod at him, he dives in, capturing your mouth on his and successfully filling the space in between your seats, leaning his body on yours.
Youâve never been kissed like this before, with so much energy you feel renewed. But you try not to think too much about it and instead feel it as you reciprocate the kiss, your lips and hands restless to show him just how much you felt for him for the past two years.
Sungchan keeps kissing you as the car stops its journey and the driver has to announce you arrived. He keeps kissing you while you walk up the steps of his building to find his apartment. He keeps kissing you whilst he punches the code on his door to get it open. He is still kissing you as you take off your shoes and coats by the hall and heâs leading you inside, whispering a breathless âthis is my placeâ that drives you both into a fit of giggles. He kisses you inside his room, on his bed, as he takes off your clothes. He kisses you even when he puts on the condom and you jerk him off before he slides inside you. He keeps kissing you whilst you adjust to his size and ask him to move faster. When heâs fucking you, he kisses every part of you his lips can reach â your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your nose, your eyebrows, your neck, your ears, your shoulders, your clavicle and your boobs. You think his mouth never leaves your body, never fully at least, when he kisses your lips again whilst you tell him youâre so close. And as you cum, walls spasming and squeezing his cock to milk him dry from his own orgasm, he kisses you one more time.
After, when youâre lying in bed spent and he spoons you, he tells you how much he wanted to do this the first time you met. How you short-circuited his system and made him ask you out on that first moment and how serious he actually was about that. How he didnât know what to do with himself when you didnât reply. You chuckle at his confession and let the night wash away his words as youâre lulled to sleep by his warm skin on yours and his groggy soft voice. Before the slumber overtakes you, you swallow the words of your own confession that are burning on your tongue, thinking youâll have the time to tell him later.
And thatâs how you end up here, in a seven-month situationship with him, never quite speaking those words.
By now, itâs nuts the kind of power Sungchan holds over you. And youâre not sure he even knows it. Your relationship â if it even can be called that â is, for the most part, purely skin-on-skin raw sexual desire. Every time you are near Sungchan, you are energetic, your hormones kicking into high gear. For some time, you thought that after a few times sleeping together, youâd be able to get over it and get him out of your system. You hoped that your attraction to him would pass or that it would at least dim. That hooking up would get so common itâd turn boring, that you wouldnât get the jitters around him anymore or that youâd run out of things to experience and new kinks to try out.
But every time you do it â every time, without fail â you finish it wanting more. You keep coming back to his arms and he keeps letting you in. The chemistry is still off the charts.
You love the way his calloused hands touch you and his soft lips kiss you. Youâre crazy about how he has memorized all of your body parts and all of your ticks to make you scream with pleasure in bed. Youâre obsessed with how heâs had your skin marked up with his fingers, teeth and scent. Youâre captivated by his filthy words on your ear and his gentle hard thrusts against your hips. Youâre fixated by how his dick fits perfectly inside you and how he knows how to make you cum in minutes. And youâre haunted by the fact that all of that combined might mean that you are in love with him.
Because sometimes, when youâre not fucking or going about all the stops that would lead you to fuck, you feel genuine deep attachment with him.
In a rare moment he laughs when you tell him how you argued with your crazy conservative forensicsâ Professor in front of the Dean in a criminology symposium because he dared to assume asexual women are frigid. Or he lets you lay your head on his chest as he tells you how he and his roommate Shotaro became friends. Or he places a piece of your hair over your ear while you eat dinner together at the pizza place near your place. Or you belt out early 2000âs music together on his beat-up Kia Sephia 1993 while you drive around town. Or you tell him about wanting to change your major to Literature, that you never planned to take Law in the first place, and he encourages you to do what you really want. Or you both stay up late sharing your fears and uncertainties about life after college. Or he pulls you into his arms, holding you closer and tightly against him because your body drifted away from him while sleeping. Or he tells you how he loves your caresses as you pet his hair to lull him back to sleep while the rising sun infiltrates through his room curtains. Or he says he remembered you during the day because he saw your favorite flower blossoming near the building to his calculus class. Or he not so casually asks who was the guy you were talking too close with the last time he saw you on campus, jealousy shining in his eyes. Or he reads the latest philosophy book you recommended and gives you an in-depth review of all the points he found important. Or he buys you a cupcake when you meet up a day after your birthday and acts nonchalant, tips of his ear becoming red, as you ask him what it is for. Or he sends you a Spotify playlist of an artist he thinks youâd really like the sound. Or he asks how your grandmother is doing a few days after you came back from a quick trip home because she was sick.
In those rare moments, you hold yourself together to not bawl your eyes out because of his kind gestures. Itâs hard not feeling sentimental being treated with the minimal tenderness when you grew up in a house with strict rules and no space for feelings. Of course, there were the frequent occasions where your parents would scream their lungs out at each other saying the nastiest stuff you ever heard, but, other than that, feelings were bottled up and could only come out in screeches if you were an adult. Your parents turned their maximum effort to make sure food was on the table and you and your siblings were upstanding citizens, and as much as youâre grateful for that, sometimes you resent them for never truly making you feel seen and appreciated.
Maybe thatâs the reason why when Sungchan shows you care and desire, you mistake it for love. Because, in those sacred moments in the dead of the night when he shares a part of him with you, something he never told or showed before, you want to crawl out of your skin and into his to become a part of him. Thatâs when you think â you feel â like you love him. And you feel like maybe he loves you, too.
The fact that he speaks in a gentle and low tone as opposed to the wails you used to listen to as a child is just an added bonus.
After fifteen minutes, you finally close the water tap and the stream of your daydream about Sungchan to step out of the shower. As you dab your body up with a towel, you find out Sungchan has left a change of his clothes for you on the sink while your mind was far away. You quickly dry yourself off and put on the clothes, a pair of his boxers and a set of gray sweatpants and sweatshirt that retains the heat from the hot water on your body and makes you feel like a human again and not a dirty wet popsicle. Then you wipe a hand on the mirror over the sink to get rid of the steam on it and start brushing your hair back with your fingers to redo your ponytail. Once youâre satisfied, you put the towel up to dry and leave the bathroom, walking the small path to Sungchanâs room. You canât help but notice that Shotaroâs room, that is right beside Sungchanâs, has its door open and lights out, with no signs of Shotaro inside, which means you and Sungchan have the house alone to yourselves. A wicked smile makes its way to your face as you think of all the noise you can make without a care in the world. But you soon tamper your wild thoughts and breath in before knocking on Sungchanâs closed door, only opening it after you hear his permission to come inside.
His bedroom is small and youâve been in here so many times you already know it by heart. A twin bed by the window, some basic white curtains, a nightstand, a small desk with a chair by the foot of the bed, a dresser just in front of it and thatâs it. Itâs a tiny room in a tiny apartment, not much different than yours, and you suppose thereâs not much else a college student can afford in a building off-campus.
When you come inside, Sungchan is sitting on his chair, laptop open as he types away. And as you close the door again, he turns on his seat to welcome you with a smile on his face.
âHey,â he says, eyeing you up and down. âDid the clothes fit okay?â
You look down at the attire that so clearly belongs to him but fits you well enough because even though heâs taller than you, youâre more full-figured than him. âYeah. Thanks for lending me them. And for letting me shower.â
âNo problem. I already turned on the dryer for your clothes, they should be done in a minute. I also wiped down your raincoat, sneakers and your bag. Shoes are still in the hall. Raincoat and backpack are right there,â he tells you, pointing at a spot behind you where your belongings are gathered, right near his dresser.
Your eyes follow his direction to recognize where your things are and then you look back to him, feeling like a deer caught in headlights as you lean back on the wall with hands bound behind your back. Even though you wanted to meet him, you feel misplaced now that youâre here. Like the time apart has made you become strangers to one another. You donât know what to expect anymore. Sungchan has been nothing but welcoming until now, but you keep fearfully anticipating his every move and word, waiting to be rejected, sure that your presence is annoying him and heâll ask you to leave at any minute.
Contrarily to all of your fears, Sungchan puts you out of your misery as he extends a hand and beckons you to come closer. When you step in his general direction, he takes your hand in his and draws you in so youâre standing in between his legs. With him still seated in his chair, youâre taller than him, and you like the leverage of looking down on him that it gives you. But instead of meeting his eyes with confidence, you focus your gaze on a spot behind his head as you feel his hands wrapping around your waist and you place your own on his shoulders.
It's only when Sungchan moves one hand to your face and tips your chin back that you really look at him. Heâs wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that match yours and a white t-shirt that hugs his form and shows his biceps, his fringe styled in a way that leaves a heart-shaped spot on his forehead that you want to drop a kiss on. His reading glasses frame his eyes, the lenses lightly scratched. Itâs completely unfair how absolutely ravishing he looks in simple clothing and so little styling.
âHi there,â he whispers when your eyes stop wandering over his features and finally focus on his face, the smile on his lips making you feel warm all over.
âHey,â you reply, fingers picking at the fabric of his shirt over his chest for lack of something better to do. âThank you for everything. Youâre the best.â
âOf course, princess,â he says, hand moving to the nape of your neck to pull your face closer. He pecks your lips two times before pulling back. You instantly melt against him, containing the urge to follow his mouth with yours. âI wouldnât be okay with you standing in those wet cold clothes. Plus, you look cute wearing mine, too.â
You smile shyly at him, your cheeks burning because of the compliment and he nuzzles his nose against yours, muttering a âSo damn cute,â before pressing his lips on yours again.
You sigh against him, mouth parting to immediately receive his tongue. Itâs slow and sweet, you both getting acquainted with each other again, one of his hands around your waist to press you against his front, and the other one rubbing circles on your nape. Your own hands wrap around his neck and pull at the strands of his hair, earning a soft groan from him. He tastes like mint toothpaste and heaven, and youâre embarrassed by how much you missed this. His closeness, his smell, his touch, his kiss. All of it. All of him. You want him all the time.
âFinals week has been treating you badly, doll?â He asks when you both pull back for air and you groan at his question, hanging your head low and resting your forehead on his right shoulder. He chuckles at you.
âPlease, I donât want to talk about it,â you whimper, the press of his lips on your neck making your voice airy.
He nods and softly pushes your head back so he can look at you again. âFine, letâs not talk about it. But I still have an essay due tomorrow that Iâm trying to finish today, so I donât think Iâll be able to spend much time with you right now.â
âOh, okay,â you reply. âYou want me to go?â
He shakes his head and looks at you pointedly, muzzling another one of your attempts to flee. âPlease stay. Iâll order some food if youâre hungry and you can eat while I work.â
You scrunch your nose at the offer with a hand over your stomach. âI actually feel nauseous after that exam.â
He laughs at you and starts humming, making the most adorable thinking face while he tries to come up with a plan that doesnât involve you leaving.
âI can charge my phone and watch TikTok videos on your bed while you work? If the sound doesnât bother you. Iâll make sure the volume is really low.â You suggest. âAnd after, I donât knowâŚâ You trail off, feeling warm all over again because you actually know exactly what comes after. What comes after is you getting impaled by his dick and writhing in pleasure. And you hope that what comes after is you both finally confessing your feelings for each other, too. But thatâs just a hope.
And also, itâs not even the time to think about that, so you shake your head to scare those thoughts away and give him another option, âI can go back home after a while. I actually need to sleep early because I have another exam in the third period tomorrow.â
âOkay, sounds like a plan,â he replies, nodding his head and pulling you in for another long and sweet kiss.
That is interrupted by the familiar pinging sound of a message coming through his laptop iMessage app and your eyes instinctively follow it to check what it is. But Sungchan is quicker than you, scrambling up and turning his torso to reach for the mouse and close the notification before you have the chance to see it. Itâs a small moment that doesnât quite alarm you because you know Sungchan is a private person and thereâs no way heâd let you look through his texts. Still, as he turns back to drop a last kiss on your lips and you walk away to search for your phone in your bag, something about it nags at the back of your head.
With your phone and charger in hand and the TikTok app open, you make yourself comfortable on his bed. As your brain forgets all about international laws and politics and gets a serotonin boost from puppies and kittensâ videos, Sungchan pulls your feet from the bed to lay them on his lap as he remains seated on his chair. When heâs clicking away on the mouse or scrolling through his screen to read something, he rests his free hand on your ankles and starts massaging the soles of your feet. The domesticity of it all tugs on your heart and you canât help but smile as you watch his back. Soon enough, the warmth of his room, his kneading on your feet and the comfy feeling get to you and you start to feel sleepy.
So, you connect your charger plug on the outlet behind Sungchanâs bedside table and hook it up on your phone, letting the device rest on the table as you promise Sungchan youâre just going to close your eyes for a few minutes. Then, you end up falling asleep in just a few seconds.
You feel the warmth first. A source of heat enveloping you in a strong and sturdy body. Then, you feel the gentleness, the soft touch on your hair, the slide of a thumb under your ear that pulls you from your slumber and into the arms of reality.
As you blink your eyes open, youâre met with Sungchanâs deep light brown eyes, illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table. The atmosphere is comfortable. Youâre warm and cozy laying on Sungchanâs twin bed with his arms surrounding you. The rain is still falling outside, although now it has turned into a light drizzle. Thereâs flimsy wind coming in through the small opening of the window that cools the air and prevents everything from becoming too hot. But you like the heat and think you could be easily lured back to sleep because of it.
âHi there,â Sungchan mutters before you have the chance to close your eyes again, his head resting on the same pillow as yours.
âHi, Jinsuâ you say groggily, rubbing a hand over your sleepy face. You notice how he smiles and his eyes glint at your use of his favorite nickname, and an emotion stirs deep inside you for seeing him so happy with something so simple.Â
You get awkward for a moment thinking you must have mucus on your eyes and a bloated face right now, but Sungchan just keeps smiling at you and itâs enough to take your mind away from the embarrassment. His thumb rubs soothing circles on the nape of your neck as you adjust yourself over the sheets. âSorry for waking you up. I was just getting comfortable to sleep,â he says.Â
âSâokay.â You smile back at him, reaching over to caress his hair, your fingers threading through its strands. âFor how long did I nap?â
âTwo hours or so,â he says, sliding his hand down to your waist. âYou snored, too.â
You give him a scoff, followed by a yawn that starts small and turns big. It makes you stretch your whole body, extending all of your limbs from your arms to your toes, cracking your knuckles and everything, and Sungchan gives you space to do so. When youâre finished, you turn on your back, getting comfortable again and closing your eyes briefly with a quiet hum.
âI should probably go, then,â you say with eyes still closed. It was about 7:30 p.m. when you settled in his bed, which means now itâs close to ten. If you want a quality sleep and to wake up on time tomorrow, you actually should get going. But Sungchanâs bed feels too comfy right now. Being in his arms is not bad either.Â
You donât see, but you can feel him scooting over to you, sheets rustling as he gets closer, his nose nuzzling yours and his hand fiddling with the bottom hem of your sweatshirt, your senses heightened by your drowsy mind and the lack of vision.
âYou can stay a little while longer,â he replies with a playful tilt in his words, his fingers skimming over your belly button making you jump slightly, and you open your eyes to see the left side of his mouth popping up as he shamelessly presses his body on the side of yours. âI donât mind.â
âOh, you donât?â you mumble, suddenly feeling the need to lower your voice with his lips so close to yours, eyes narrowing at his obvious naughty intentions. âThatâs so nice of you.â
âUh-huh, thatâs me,â he finally leans in to give you a peck on the lips. âIâm sooo nice,â itâs the last thing he says before kissing you fully.
This kiss is heavy and intimate. His hand around your neck keeps you in place as he savors you, tongue entering your mouth. He strokes the back of your teeth, the roof of your mouth, the inside of your cheeks and your own tongue, groaning at whatever he finds there. His other hand grazes the skin of your waist tenderly in a way that may have made you think heâd treat you delicately if he wasnât kissing you with so much fervor and energy. He takes whatever he wants from you until you pull away, already out of breath.
âI thought you were going to sleep,â you tease, lips ghosting over his, and he smirks at you.
He moves his lips to your ear and whispers, âYeah, but Iâm all woken up now,â as his hand moves up and down your stomach, faintly caressing your skin in a way that makes your insides burn. He presses his pelvis on the side of your thigh and you feel his dick hardening while still being constrained inside his pants. âCanât you feel it?â
You reply a faint yeah before heâs all over you again, mouth desperate on yours as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth and bites, hands gripping your waist and body crowding you against the sheets. Heâs consuming you whole and he wants more. And you give it to him. All of you. Honestly, at this point youâd give him whatever he asked.
âYou donât have exams tomorrow?â You ask in between kisses, breathless and shaky, the still sane part of your mind trying to estimate how much time you have together and what youâd be able to do with it.
Sungchan shakes his head slightly and kisses the corner of your mouth, putting a strand of your hair thatâs fallen free from your ponytail behind your ear. âIâm finished with exams,â he whispers and kisses your cheek, then moves his lips to your earlobe, kissing there, too. âI have all the time in the world for you right now, princess.â
You want to kiss him again, but his head moves up, his nose sinking into your hair and deeply inhaling before pressing his lips on your hairline. âI missed the smell of your shampoo so much,â he says, eyes focusing back on your face as he slides his lips to your temple.
You sigh against him, his words making your heart flutter. Still, you canât help but tease him when his eyes meet yours again. âWell, if you contacted me earlier, you wouldnât have missed it,â you say, pouting at him, your hand bawling at his shirt as you finally show how upset the two weeks of radio silence made you feel.
Sungchan laughs at you and cradles his hand on the side of your face, his thumb caressing over your cheekbone as he holds you close. âOh, did you get mad I didnât text you, princess?â He mutters, his eyes glinting while yours are sad. âYou shouldâve texted me, then.â
You keep pouting, making a dissatisfied noise with his reply. Then, you cast your eyes down to the collar of his shirt as you say, âI wanted you to talk to me first.â
Sungchan chuckles and closes his palm on your chin, tilting your head up so you have nowhere to look but into his eyes. âBut you ended up calling me up either way, didnât you?â He teases in a low gruff voice with dark eyes. His fingers press against the sides of your cheeks to pucker your lips for him and he drops four consecutives pecks on your mouth that have you sighing. âSounded so cute on the phone, too, saying you needed to see me,â he finishes.
The mockery of his words falls hard on you, making you feel ashamed as he reminisces your exact words, directly pointing out the truth: that you were the one who pursued him and not the other way around. You whimper in discontent, your face contorting as you try to get away from his grip, but his hold on your chin tightens when you move. So you press your nails on his shoulders over his shirt, hoping the fabric gives away and your force is enough to draw blood, and look at him with hard eyes and anger on your face. âSungchan, I donât like-â
âWhy donât you just tell me you missed me, huh?â He asks, interrupting you and making you roll your eyes at him, a snappy reply on your tongue. âBecause I missed you, princess. I really did.â
And just like that the anger fizzles out and the irritable words are gone from your brain. His confession makes you melt back against him, breath hitching and eyes going wide. You notice heâs still smirking, probably because he knows he got you right where he wanted. Teasing you nonstop for half a minute and then confessing he missed you just so he can get a reaction out of you. And you give it to him, falling on the trap just like he wanted. You always do.
âDid you really?â You ask, big eyes focusing on his lips and neck pushing forward, needing to hear his confirmation. If you were a pet, your ears would be up and alert, patiently waiting for your owner to assert his authority over you.
âI did,â he says, nodding his head and smoothing his hands over your features now, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. âAnd did you miss me, princess?â
You nod before heâs even finished speaking. Knowing he missed you just how much you missed him fills you with urgency and youâre sure you have eager and wanton eyes as you grip on the back of his head and pull his face closer, focusing your gaze back on his as you sheepishly confess back, âI missed you, Jinsu.â
Sungchanâs smile slowly spreads across his lips as he hears and sees your words coming out of your lips. He pats on the top of your head briefly, like you really are his pet, and coos at you. âThere you go, pretty girl.â
And then heâs pulling you in for a kiss again, his mouth devouring you whole as he creeps one hand under your head to support it and slides his other one to grasp at your hip.
He shifts on the bed, leaning over you with a leg in between yours, his grip tightening as your tongues meet. In no time youâre both breathing heavily, lips red, swollen and covered in spit as your hands weave through his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. He moves his lips down to your neck, sucking and biting everywhere, and drives his hands up your stomach under your shirt, feeling the skin just under your boobs before his fingers enclose over one of them.
You sigh and crane your neck to the side as he keeps peppering kisses on your collar, his thumb now pressing against your nipple as it hardens over his ministrations, another moan flying free from your mouth. You try to match his pace, descending one hand to his stomach to pull up his t-shirt, your fingers grazing his abs.
He pulls away then, kneeling on the bed to remove his shirt and throw it on some corner of his room. You spend approximately two seconds kissing his lower stomach before heâs pulling your sweatshirt â his sweatshirt â over your head, too, and pouncing on you a minute later, his other knee also coming in between your legs as he latches his mouth around one boob, laying you back down.
âFuck, Sungchan,â you groan, your hands clamping on his hair again because heâs sucking on your nipple at just the perfect angle whilst his thigh presses on your crotch with just the ideal amount of friction to make you dizzy. Youâre sure you're wet already and itâs not even been over ten minutes since you woke up.
âMissed these tits so much too, princess,â he says over your damp nipple, eyes focusing on yours and raising goosebumps all over you. Itâs an incredibly lewd image. His glossy and pretty lips, coated on your saliva, telling you over your areola how much he missed your boobs. Yeah, youâll probably be thinking about it for a long time, keeping this memory to your mind to use it specifically when you masturbate in the near future. Or youâll be putting a video representation of it as the cause of your death on your grave when youâre buried. One of these two options, for sure.
He presses kisses all over the valley of your chest before sucking around the skin of your other boob. His tongue peeks out of his mouth to kitten lick at your nipple at the same time his blunt nails graze against the skin just under your belly button on your right side, and you fidget under him. Itâs a weak spot he had memorized as soon as you started sleeping together and he tortures you with it every damn time you two fuck just to see you squirm.
âDesperate already?â He says as he rubs the same place over and over, his eyes watching your stomach contract with each caress.
âYouâre such a douchebag,â you tell him.
âWhy?â he kisses your nipple and focuses his eyes back on yours, stupid smirk still plastered on his face. âAm I not making you feel good?â
âYou fucking know why,â you respond, moving your hand to his wrist to stop his abuse of your weak spot and sliding his hand down to cup the place in between your thighs over your clothes. âAnd this is where your hand has to be to make me feel good.â
Sungchan laughs at that, pressing his hand harder on you and sucking on your boob one more time. His eyes and lips are glistening as he says, âSo bossy. Youâre lucky I like it.â
And then his mouth is claiming yours again while he sits up and his hands make quick work of yanking down your sweatpants and underwear â once again, his clothes â and throwing them away from you, making you lay back and bend your legs. Once heâs done, you move down the bed, sitting to grasp your fingers over the drawstring of his sweatpants, trying to loosen it so he can get just as naked as you are, but he moves his hips out of your reach just before you can finish it.
âI want to feel you, too,â you whine as he hovers over you, one hand pushing on your shoulder to reposition you the way he wants it, your back stretching against the covers again.
He smiles and drops a small peck on the corner of your mouth before moving his body down the bed, hands spreading open your thighs and lips pressing kisses on your belly and going down, down, down.
âIn a minute, doll,â he says over your right knee, his hands now moving to the inside of your thighs, so close to where you most want him. âHave to make you feel good first, just like you asked.â
His mouth moves up now, lips sucking and bruising your thighs, tongue lavishing over your soft skin, one hand crossed on your waist to hold your body down and another pinching the supple flesh of your butt and thigh, pushing and pulling as he pleases and extending your torture so much more. You love it just as much as you hate it. Itâs amazing how much he knows your body, how much he remembers all of your ticks just to use them against you. Or maybe itâs just the fact that itâs him. He makes you feel this way. Always has. Probably always will.
You are about to beg for something more, the first letter of a please making its way out of your now dry lips. And then heâs parting your folds and kissing up your crotch, becoming face to face with your glistening cunt. He buries his nose just on the outer part of it and breathes in deeply for a moment, quite literally inhaling your scent, and you think he just has to be mad. Thereâs no way in hell heâs a sane person.
âFuck yeah,â he groans, his eyes meeting your wide ones when you press your elbows on the bedspread to support your upper body and watch what heâs doing. âMissed this sweet little pussy, too.â He slides his forefinger up your slit and rubs at your clit, making you shiver. âAnd she missed me, right, doll? Fucking dripping already. And all for me.â
âHoly shit, youâre crazy,â you moan, brushing his hair back as he keeps rubbing your clit, your hips wiggling with every complete circle he finishes, eyes never leaving his.
âAnd you love it,â he states and you canât argue with that. And then heâs licking a wide strip up your pussy, his middle finger reaching down to find your entrance at the same time.
It would be ridiculous to get close to cumming just from that alone, but itâs been so long and youâve been so pent up you already feel the characteristic churning deep in your stomach. Still, like always, Sungchan takes his time with you, massaging your entrance with his fingers, tongue finding that spot just under your clit that makes you see stars.
The seven months youâve been doing this have been so full of sexual experiments that now he knows you prefer indirect stimulation rather than the direct on-the-nose approach. He knows you like to be eased into it, to slowly lose yourself to pleasure over getting quickly to your orgasm.
So, he keeps rubbing over your hole before putting his finger in, stroking your walls lazily as you moan softly, his tongue licking over the same spot over and over, oftentimes catching just the underside of your clit and making you swivel your hips trying to follow his lips.
âThatâs it, doll. Doing so good for me,â he says as he speeds up his movements, joining another finger inside of your pussy and focusing on the image of your eyes closed, chest heaving and lips bitten. âFeels good?â
âFeels so good, Jinsu,â you reply, opening your glassy eyes to meet his, grabbing at his forearm thatâs crossed over the front of your body. Sungchan is so focused on bringing you pleasure that the veins on his arms are popped up, so pretty you wish to run your tongue over each one. All of it just adds to the raw sexual tension lingering in the air.
âI love it when you call me that. You know just the way to drive me crazy, princess,â he groans, eyes never leaving yours as he moves his mouth to your clit again, now sucking harshly on it as his two fingers scissor you open.
Another thing you love about Sungchan is his dirty talk. You still donât understand how he stays so silent and bashful most of the time and turns into another person in bed, becoming bold and forward. Itâs not uncommon for him to be completely calm and collected when youâre in a friendly gather and then say the most obscene things while fucking you half an hour later, the shy persona thrown out the window. Sometimes he starts teasing you with texts, dirty looks or small touches even while you are out with friends. And the knowledge that he gets to be a completely different person just for you got you off one too many times.
You move your free hand to the back of his neck and push him more into your cunt. He gets the message and pulls your legs further apart, one hand going under your bum to support your lower half as you start bucking your hips into his face, sliding your elbows under you to arch your back while youâre searching for pleasure. Heâs fucking you with his tongue so good right now you feel your sanity slipping away. The breeze coming from the window gives you goosebumps because of the contrast with the heat of your body, and your nipples stand hard as you whimper, hand pulling on the strands on Sungchanâs nape.
He groans against you, the vibration going straight to your heat and enveloping your whole body. When he pulls aways slightly, he keeps rubbing at your clit with his fingers.
âGonna cum for me, princess?â He asks while resting his chin on your thigh and you moan, nodding desperately as you lift your head to look up into his glazed eyes. Words would fail you right now, so you do your best to convey your feelings through your actions, the hand on his forearm gripping him so hard he gives you his hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. âDo it, baby. You look so pretty when you cum.â
Over Sungchanâs eyes, you catch the way heâs rutting his hips on the bed, obviously looking for some kind of friction. The image shows that heâs just as turned on as you while eating you out and it makes you crazier. His shoulder blades and his back are tensed and you rest one foot over his shoulder just to feel the muscles moving under it, so fucking attractive. And when you focus back to his face, heâs panting, gaze never leaving yours as he dips his head again to suck hard on your clit, and thatâs when you cum.
Your orgasm takes over your whole body and you shudder as Sungchan doesnât stop, three of his fingers finding your hole again and pistoning inside you whilst you fall apart, his left cheek resting against your thigh and his eyes never leaving your pussy. You convulse around his hand and under his body, body going haywire while the intense pleasure overwhelms your senses.
You donât know what to do with yourself. If you should keep your hands pressing against his nape and your hips lifting off in the air or if you should stop and take a breather. It all feels too fucking good it almost smothers you, but you donât feel like stopping. Sungchan makes the decision for you then, choosing to keep his tongue out to taste you and his fingers curling on the spongy spot inside you that makes you writhe.
But suddenly itâs too much and you sit up to try to push him away with a hand on his forehead and clasp your other one over his wrist that is bended as he still guides his digits furiously inside you. Your legs try to close over his head, but he presses a hand firmly on the inside of your left thigh to keep them apart, his eyes determined as he meets yours again and pulls away slightly from your clit.
âWait, Iâmââ You try to speak, but the word sensitive doesnât come out as you feel your thighs trembling.
âI know, doll, I know,â he coos at you with pouty lips, still overstimulating you and enjoying every second of it, his eyes relaying fake empathy. âBut you can give me one more, right?â You shake your head no with pleading eyes. Sungchan doesnât budge. âYes, you can. I believe in you. Gonna feel so good, too.â
You realize thereâs no escaping this. You could use your safe word, but you donât want to. Not when Sungchan is assertive and so good to you that it makes you feel obedient, keen to do everything in your power to make him feel good as well. So you bite your lip and nod your head at the same time you feel something change deep inside you. Your thighs that were trembling now spread open again and your pelvis starts chasing the feeling of his hand instead of avoiding it. Sungchan makes note of every new reaction, a sly smile appearing on his lips, and his eyes zero in on your cunt again. You relax your back enough to have your elbows hitting the sheets again, head falling back. Your hands weaken their grip on Sungchanâs wrist and head as he doubles down his efforts, fingers unwavering working to bring you to the edge. Soon enough, you feel the tightness in your belly, how itâs so steadfast you canât help but let yourself fall into it.Â
When you sob his name and curl your toes on his back, he looks at you with fierce eyes and one command on his moist lips.
âCum,â he whispers, soft and yet harsh.
Just like that, the band snaps again and your walls spasm, gushing over Sungchanâs fingers. You arch your back off the bed, hips shooting up to feel everything he has left to give you, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan.
Like before, Sungchan keeps going, working you through it again and the lewd slippery sounds your cunt makes on his hand have you whimpering, nails scratching his wrist and eyes screwing shut to feel it all until it becomes too much again.
This time, when you weakly push at his forehead, Sungchan pulls back. His forearms support his body up as he hovers over you, lips trailing up your whole body as he kisses and sucks every part of you he can reach. âSuch a good damn pussy,â he whispers just over the apex between your thighs. âAnd such a fucking pretty princess,â he says above your belly button. âMade you cum so good, right?â He questions after he sucks one of your nipples on his mouth again, and you paw at his head. âI could do this all night, doll,â he states before licking your other nipple. âAnd youâd let me, right?â He says before biting a mark on your clavicle.
When his lips come in contact with your own, you pant inside his mouth, trying to match his kisses even though youâre still gasping for air and with your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You just loop your arms around his neck and let him kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue and feeling the heat creeping on your cheeks because of the vulgarity of it all.
He bites your bottom lip when you donât give him an immediate answer and withdraws with it still between his teeth, digging harshly on your plush and hypersensitive skin until you hiss in pain. Only then he releases it. âRight?â He demands.
Your mind is still hazy and youâre still out of breath post two mind blowing orgasms, but you know better than to deny Sungchan when heâs feeling dominating. âRight,â you mutter in your most docile tone.
He smiles and swipes your cheek with his knuckles, thumb stroking on your abused lip before he presses another kiss on it. âGood girl.â
The praise goes straight to your system and you buzz in excitement, like youâre reawakening because of his words. Suddenly, you feel the urge to show him just how good of a girl you can be, how you can make him feel so good he might even forget his name.
You kiss him again and slip your hands down his body to feel his pecs, then his abs, until finally your fingers wrap around the imprint of his dick on his sweatpants. Sungchan hisses, head resting on the crook of your neck and shoulder, hips thrusting down on your hand.
âI need to suck you off,â you say, pushing him with a hand on his chest to make him sit up as you keep working his erection through his pants with your other hand.
Sungchan follows your directions, pulling your upper half up with him but keeping his arms tight around you, constricting you from moving any further. âIf you do that right now, Iâm gonna cum,â his whispers with eyes boring into yours, a silent plea in them.
You drop a peck on his lips and look at him with the same intensity as you reply. âGreat. Then cum in my mouth.â
Just like that he weakens his hold of you and youâre able to slip from his arms to kneel on the floor, pulling on his waist for him to be in the position you want. Sungchan becomes compliant to your whims, just following your moves. Even though you never assigned each other fixed roles in bed, you are usually the one being pliable and manhandled, so it is a nice change to get him to obey your orders. He drops his legs over the side of the bed where youâre located and gives you enough space to shimmy your body in between them. This time he lets you pull at the string of his sweatpants to slacken it and lifts his hips when you pull down on the waistband of it, your hands removing his briefs, too. Both pieces of fabric pool around his ankles as you hold your head up and pull his face down for another kiss. He lets you kiss him while he gets rid of the clothes surrounding his calves, becoming hyper aware of your hands roaming over his body as his dick remains untouched.
Only when you pull back you get a good look at his cock, red, angry and leaking with precum. You lick your lips and keep rubbing your hands at Sungchanâs skin, and his eyes follow the way your right hand tweaks his nipples and your lips close around the space over his left knee.
âPlease donât tease right now, doll,â he says, voice whiny and eyes urgent as your hands start going down his stomach, your nails slightly scratching his skin.Â
âOh yeah? But I thought you liked teasing,â you say with a smirk before kissing his thigh. He opens his legs some more, opening up more space, and shuffles his pelvis closer to the side of the bed, leaning back on one arm. âOr are you that desperate already?â
He sneers at you repeating his earlier words back to him, but when you finally wrap your hand around the base of his dick, the smile is gone and he opens his mouth in a silent groan, brows furrowing together. Sungchan is so thick and heavy in your hand the tips of your fingers donât touch your thumb as you grip him. Although his size never fails to impress you, youâre used to it by now, and youâre particularly fond of how much pleasure it brings you.
You just find it unfair how even his dick is pretty. Long and thick, mushroom tip with the same pink tinge of his lips and nipples, standing up with a slight curve that always digs so good on that spongy place inside of you. You move your hand up and down his shaft to smear his slick all over him. Your mouth waters at the sight and soon enough youâre pressing a kiss to his tip and watching him purr, thrusting his hips up to follow the feel of your lips when you move back.
âStay still,â you command and he purses his lips together and nods. His forehead is already beaded with sweat and you love the image of it. You smile softly at him before you kitten-lick his tip, watching his mouth open to deliver quiets aahs and oohs while you tongue at his slit and the underside of his head.
After a while, you finally take him inside your mouth. His tip prods on your cheek as you suck his dick forcefully and thatâs enough to make Sungchan groan, head lolling back. You back away again and he whines, lifting his face to look in your eyes again.
âI know, baby boy. So sensitive, right?â You blow air over his head and he fidgets, wiggling his hips slightly. God, he looks gorgeous surrendering himself for you like this. Youâll have to do this more in the near future.
You smile and run your tongue all around his head, teasing him one last time before enveloping your lips around him again, tongue stroking the underside of his cock. Sungchan grips a hand on your hair, threading the strands of your now lopsided and messy ponytail in between his fingers. You hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down for him, hand stroking the rest of his dick where youâre not able to cover with your mouth. He moans at you and you put another hand on his thigh for balance, breathing in deep through your nose and preparing to take him deeper. A second later youâre relaxing your throat as his dick invades that space, too, concentrating on keeping your breath regulated while he thrusts his hips up.
âJust like that, princess,â he whimpers under you.
You hold out for the longest you can before you feel your gag reflex kicking in and then you retreat with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his dick, your eyes blurry from unshed tears as you make up for the loss of your mouth with your hand. Sungchan moves both of his hands to your cheeks, holding you tenderly as his thumbs press on your waterline to catch the tears clouding your vision.
When you blink, his face becomes clear to you again. His eyes are glassy and lust filled, his open mouth is panting and his chest, cheeks and neck are splotched. It fills you with pride that heâs gotten into such a fucked-up state just because of you.
âFeels good?â You ask in between deep breaths, trying to fill your lungs with air before preparing to take him in your mouth again whilst you keep pumping his cock.
âYes. Youâve gotten so good at this, doll. Doing your best job yet,â he says and the pride swells in your chest, an instant ego boost cursing through your system.
Before you met Sungchan, you didnât care enough about receiving or giving oral. You had a couple of boyfriends before, but you were still inexperienced and slightly disgusted of doing and experimenting certain things. And even though they had given you head before, and youâd tried your best to reciprocate, it was always a means to an end, never the primary goal of your sexual encounters.
But Sungchan was different. The first time he ate you out, he didnât stop until you finished three times in sequence. It was so good it made you want to do the same for him. He made you feel seductive and bold enough to try new things. And he had the patience to teach you just the way he liked it. He didnât become frustrated when your rhythm was shitty and you had to take long breaks to breathe before going back at it again. He didnât push your head to take him all the way when you werenât prepared. He waited for your affirmative response, leading and encouraging you, praising you whenever you achieved a new skill or did something different. He was good to you. And in turn, you became good for him.
âI like to pleasure you,â you say sincerely and trace your tongue on the vein that runs under his cock.
Sungchan jitters on the bed. âYeah, and you trained so hard for that, right? Always sucking on my cock like you want to milk me dry, too.â
You nod, suckling and peppering small kisses all over his tip. âI do want to suck you dry.â
He smirks at that and moves his hand to the back of your neck again, tightening his grip. âThen why donât you put it in your mouth again, baby?â
You smirk back at him and take your last big whiff of air before opening your lips to take him inside again. You hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down immediately, gripping at the base of his dick a hand and letting his moans, sighs and hums of approval guide your ministrations. You suction on the parts of his cock your mouth can reach and flatten your tongue on the underside of it, playing with his most sensitive parts while Sungchan keeps praising you.
âShit. So good to me, doll. Keep doing that,â he grunts and you nod.
When his nails dig on your nape and his tip hits the back of your throat, you breathe through your nose and let him jerk his hips up until your forehead meets his stomach and your nose rubs on his pubic hair. You press both of your hands on his thighs and allow him to use your mouth until you canât breathe and think straight anymore.
When you back out heaving, Sungchan moves his fingers to your face to catch the droll falling from your lips and clean the tears striking your cheeks. He waits for you to gather your surroundings again, still complimenting you and your work.
âDamn, youâre such a good girl,â he says tenderly, thumbs running over the apple of your cheeks. âLook so pretty with my cock in your mouth.â
The praise, of course, gets to you again. So, you tighten your grip on the root of his cock, starting to pump him faster, and take your other hand away from his thigh, pressing your fingers together and shaping your palm in a conch-like way to rub it on the tip of his dick, your thumb going under the head to rub at the sensitive spot located there. Sungchan moans loudly at that and you lean over to lick on his balls at the best of your ability giving the position youâre both in, not giving up even if the carpeted floor is digging on your skin.
Sungchan scrunches his eyes closed and slides one of his hands to the back of your neck and moves the other to grasp over yours on the head of his cock, pulling it away to rest them together at his thigh. âIâm close, princess.â
You catch his warning and wrap your lips on his cock again, instantly taking him in your throat as he desperately yanks his hips up in your mouth, fingers pressing on your nape and moans growing heavy and breathless. Your free hand fiddles with his balls, your nose presses on his lower stomach again and you swear you can feel him in your windpipe. And thatâs when he releases, painting the inside of your mouth white with thick ropes of cum that only seize after a minute. When his body becomes loose and his hand on your neck turns weak, you pull away with a pop, watching his dick twitch and slap against his stomach.
You breathe deep and press your hands on the mattress on both of his sides to get up slowly, back and knees complaining about being in the same position for long minutes. Despite looking limp and still dazed, Sungchan pulls you to him so quickly you almost lose your balance. He peppers kisses on your belly and boobs while your hands press on his shoulders. And when you groan and move a hand to rub your left knee, he pulls your leg up to place your foot on the bed and hunches to close his lips on your skin, his tongue lavishing against the redness there. It tickles and you chuckle at him, but that doesnât stop him from giving your right leg the same attention. He places your left foot on the ground and bends your right leg to press your toes on the mattress, repeating the same process. You smile fondly at him and caress his hair while he drops kisses on your right knee. And when heâs done, he slides your leg down so youâre now pressing your knee on the bed on the side of his thigh.
âYouâre so good to me,â he whispers as he pulls you in for another kiss.
You press your body closer to his and feel the way his dick is hardening again, rubbing on your thigh, precum wetting it. But as you shuffle to straddle him completely, Sungchan stops you with a hand on your waist.
âWhatâs wrong?â You ask, voice hoarse from the blowjob. Sungchan doesnât reply, scooting closer to his nightstand to open his drawer instead.
He pulls a foil packet from the already opened box of condoms and you look at him with confusion written all over your face. You guys have been doing it raw for three months now, ever since you told each other you were clean and not seeing anybody else and you started taking the pill. Sungchan loves finishing inside of you. So of course, youâre a little bit puzzled about why heâs choosing to wear a condom now, all of the sudden.
Well, maybe heâs afraid you met someone else during your time apart, but this possibility doesnât even make sense. So you try to quash away his worries.
âI havenât seen anyone else, Sungchan,â you tell him as he opens the foil packet and discards the trash on his night stand, right beside your cell phone.
âI know, doll,â he says back, eyes fleeting on yours for a moment before they focus on wrapping the condom around his dick. His voice sounds confident when he says it and it irks you how heâs so certain you wonât sleep with anyone else. âItâs just quicker to clean up this way.â
You tilt your head to the side and cross your arms. It doesnât make sense. You can always shower after. That happened all the time. And it frequently led to you having round two in the bathroom, which you are not opposed to at all.
When Sungchan finishes securing the condom on his dick, he grabs your hand to drop a kiss on the back of it and pulls you closer. You budge just slightly and his eyes catch the way your stance is guarded and youâre not opening yourself up for him yet. He smiles, eyes crinkling with the motion. âCome on, princess. We have to be quick, right? Donât you have to sleep early for that final on your third period tomorrow?â
His words are lovingly convincing and heâs technically right. But you still eye him suspiciously. Your finals are the last thing on your mind right now and you donât believe Sungchan is worried about your sleep cycle after you just spent almost an hour pleasuring each other. It just doesnât make sense, your mind screams at you.
Youâre sure something is wrong, but when Sungchan starts kissing your clavicle and grabbing at the back of your thighs to pull you against his front, you fold, letting his lips and hands distract you from it. Then you straddle him, eager to have him inside you to pull away from the siren alarm ringing loud inside your head. Heâs rock hard again and you take his cock in your hand, slapping it against your pussy lips to share your juices and the condomâs lubricant with each other. Sungchan rests his forehead against yours as you look down together at the scene.
When you move up enough for the head of his cock to catch on your hole, you both sigh, but it slips and hits your clit, so you scoot forward to get better leverage to put him inside you. Sungchan supports you with gripping hands on your back while you move your hips back up and finally his cock prods on your entrance. Youâre both sighing together again when he enters you, and when Sungchan meets resistance half his way inside, he pulls you up slightly and rubs your hips, muttering about how good youâre taking him until you release more wetness, your walls fluttering and stretching to accommodate all of him.
Soon enough his thick cock is deep inside you and Sungchan bottoms out with a huff, watching as your pussy envelopes him whole. His mouth is slightly open and his two front teeth show behind his upper lip just like a bunnyâs, sweat glistening on his forehead, that heart-shaped spot his hairline makes taunting you again. Your heart swells at the sight of it all, and you hate how cute he is whilst his cock is splitting you open. You place a kiss on the spot on his forehead just like you wanted before and then drop another one on the mole on the corner of his upper lip. Sungchan pulls your lips to his as you experimentally move up and down on him.
âYou feel so good, princess,â he moans, breaking the kiss.
âBig,â you whimper out, scratching at his shoulders. âFeels so full, Jinsu.â
He chuckles and kisses on your temple. âI know, princess. But you like it, right?â
âYeah,â you sigh, grabbing at his chest and gazing at his eyes again. âI like it so much.â
And you do. You like it so much that you start riding him with full energy, needing to show him how much you like him inside you, how much you like him. You try to convey with your body the words you havenât been able to reveal, trying to show him and yourself how much this is right because of how good it feels. Because maybe if you bounce on his dick just right, suck on his pulse point the way he likes it and give him high pitched moans that compliment his performance heâll start to like you back.
âYouâre so perfect,â he says over your ear, his fringe tickling your cheek. âSo fucking perfect.â
You want to scream at him that heâs right, that you are perfect, perfect for him. But instead, you purse your lips together and focus on rolling your hips against his until your thighs burn. Sungchanâs hands are splayed on your butt cheeks and he aids you, helping you by moving you up and down in a steady rhythm. He looks at your face as you scrunch up your nose and close your eyes to focus on keep riding him. You try to pick up your movements, needing a faster place to bounce back on him in a way that doesnât tire you out as much. But Sungchan keeps slowing you down, distracting you by kissing on your pulse point, fondling your boobs, sucking on your nipples or pulling your face to kiss you. While he showers you with affection with his lips, his hand presses deeply and firmly on your back so you ride him languidly, almost stopping at times when the movements pull hoarse moans out of you both.
After a while, you start slacking because youâre actually becoming tired, trembling and losing your flow completely. Sungchan increases his efforts, trying to move you on him with only his hands, but you already surpassed the time you are usually able to ride him and your body is spent. You press your lips on his clavicle and slump against him, giving up completely.
You feel Sungchan lips on the nape of your neck and then his light chuckle. âWant me to take over?â He asks in a gentle tone.
âYes please,â you breathe against his sternum.
He rubs the expanse of your legs and kisses your shoulder before pressing his hands on the back of your thighs and getting up with you on his lap. You think heâs going to lay you back on his sheets, but are surprised when he carries you over to his dresser, his hand knocking over and away some bottles of perfume and deodorant as he drops you on top of it. You jolt from how cold the wood feels on your heated skin and his cock slips out of you, making you both laugh a beat later.
âWhy not the bed?â You ask breathless and still chuckling, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his middle as you shuffle to the edge of the dresser, watching Sungchanâs eyes turn into half-moons as he laughs with you.
âJust wanted to have you here, too,â he whispers, draping his arms tight around you and kissing you again.
Heâs so playful and happy today, kissing you so much and complimenting you, slowing down and taking his time with you, his touches so careful and gentle you canât help but start hoping. You hope that this, whatever this new side of him heâs showing you today, means something more. The feeling chews brutally on your heart, making you aware that you probably wonât come out of it alive.
Sungchan hooks one arm under your leg and pulls you to his body until half of your butt is hanging on the edge of the dresser, then grabs at his dick to guide it back to your hole, groaning when heâs fully inside of you again. You think heâs going to thrust his hips hard and fast, but he surprises you one more time by pulling back slowly, almost all the way out, before driving himself inside of you again just as gently. You sigh at the fullness and he does it again, his eyes fixated on where you two meet. This way you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock hitting all the right stops inside you, your toes curling and a moan boiling on your throat from how good it all feels. When he glides back one more time, you lift his head to look into his eyes, and he keeps your gaze as he leisurely fills you up one more time.
 âI love feeling every part of you like this,â he says when heâs bottomed out again, and you think you might die from heartache if he keeps treating you this way.
However, you donât have the time â and you seriously donât want to â dwell on it because in the next moment heâs thrusting inside you more forcefully and faster, making you pant and moan profusely again. You let your eyes roam over his form whilst he fucks you deep and hard. Heâs so attractive it makes you a little crazy. Sturdy and toned body, a defined chest, six-pack glistening with sweat, biceps flexing as he keeps you in place, veins on his forearms bulging up, a muscular back and firm hips and long strong legs supporting all of it. So tall and strong. His face is ridiculously good-looking, too. Thick brows, wide eyes, a structured nose and pink full lips, his cupidâs bow so well designed you think it was handcrafted by God himself. You donât know whether to thank him or Sungchanâs parents for putting him in the world. Heâs perfect. And great at fucking. You kind of hate him.
Sungchan catches your wandering eyes over him and grins at you. âLike what you see?â He whispers, chest pressing on yours as he slows down his pace.
You roll your eyes. You also hate him for being so smug. âYouâre handsome. What should I do? Look away?â
He chuckles and kisses your cheek. âNo. You can look all you want, doll. Memorize it even.â
You pinch his shoulders and graze your teeth on his cheek for that and he shakes with laughter. âSuch a cocky boy,â you whisper.
He holds your face in both of his hands as his hips keep meeting yours, going back to the slow measured thrusts inside you. âYouâre so beautiful, too,â he mutters and kisses you again, halting all of his movements as his tongue darts inside your lips, tasting every crevice of your mouth. But youâre burning inside and you donât care for slow and sweet anymore. You want him to ruin you, so you buck your hips forward for him to fill you up all over again.
He exhales and bites on your lower lip as you try working him inside of you the same way he was doing, but you fail. Your rhythm is shit and youâre still exhausted from riding him earlier, so you whine and grip his shoulders. âSungchan, take me back to the bed so you can fuck me right,â you mumble, wiggling your body and trying to hop down the dresser as he keeps pressed against you, peppering kisses over your neck. âPlease, Jinsu.â
He draws back from your neck, then, and quickly hooks his arms over your legs, hands splaying on your butt, to carry you back to the bed, remaining connected with you. You like how he makes you feel so small, as if you weigh nothing even though you have fat on your belly and plump thighs and arms. He never comments on it, too, and youâre so grateful for him never making you feel anything but desirable as your back meets his sheets and he hovers over you again. He's big in more ways than one.
You arch your back so his cock keeps filling you up, searching for that place inside you he always hits so good. But Sungchan has other plans, and his hands come to your wrists to stop your movements, holding your hands over your head as he presses all of his body on yours, your boobs squishing against him. His eyes bore into yours as he leisurely presses his cock inside you again and you bear your nails down on his knuckles. You desperately want to feel him with your hands. And you badly want him to stop looking at you with that intense gaze that makes you think â makes you feel â he cares about you the same way you care about him.
When he kisses you again, you canât take it anymore, huffing at being constrained by your hands and urging him to look at you. âCan you flip me over?â You ask and Sungchanâs eyes shine bright at your sentence. He can never resist having you in doggy and you smile mischievously when youâre already laying on your stomach a second later, Sungchan manhandling you the way he wants.
âHands and knees, baby,â he instructs and you fumble to obey his command, pushing yourself up and back on your knees and positioning your hands on the bed at the length of your shoulders to support your body.
Sungchan instantly corrects your form, one hand sneaking in between your thighs to spread them further apart and another pressing on your back for you to lean your upper body down, making you arch. You sigh from feeling his warm touch over your skin, wiggling your ass in the air for him. He chuckles at you and gives a soft slap at your right butt cheek and you laugh with him.
âYou look so pretty in this position,â he says, now placing himself behind you and shimmying his knees in between your legs. âYou know I love to fuck you like this, right?â
âYes,â you whisper, anticipation building high as you feel him prepare to enter you again. âAnd I love when you fuck me like this.â
Sungchan hums at you, and you finally feel the warmth of his skin on yours as he slaps his dick over the curve of your ass, making you purr. âAnd I love this ass, too,â he mutters, resting his cock on your body as his hands grab at your ass. Then he gives it another hit, this time harder than the first one, his palm softly massaging the spot after. You stumble on the bed slightly from the shock, smothering a moan. âLove how it looks when I fuck you.â
You know by now that heâs enjoying his time teasing and playing with you, but youâre so desperate to feel him inside of you again that you donât mind begging for it. âJinsu, please. Can you please put it back in?â
He snickers at you and finally finishes rearranging himself, his knuckles brushing against the back of your thighs as he begins tugging on his dick again and guiding it inside you, the head of it pressing on your entrance. âOkay, doll, but just because I want it just as bad as you.â
He slides hard and fully inside you in one go, driving you forward on the mattress. You sigh contently, feeling full and complete. In this new angle, he feels even deeper. Sungchan groans as he feels your cunt spasming around him, one hand gripping your right hip and the other kneading your ass. He pulls back halfway and pushes in again, harder than before, and your eyes roll to the back of your head from how good it already feels.
âYou good, princess?â He asks, stilling inside of you.
âYeah. Feels so deep,â you whisper, leaning the side of your face on the sheets above you to try to look back to him. You only get a glimpse of his left ear and cheek and how his biceps look holding you down, the rest of your view being obstructed by your own body.
âHmm, I know,â he muses, languidly moving in and out of you, now both of his hands landing on your ass cheeks to spread them apart. Youâre pretty sure heâs indulging himself in feeling the plush of your skin spilling between his fingers and watching how your pussy swallows him whole from that angle. Heâs addicted to the image and feel of you like this. âI always hit it so deep like this.â
âUh-huh. And you can hit it harder and faster, too, right?â You tease, pushing yourself back on his cock to make him fuck you swiftly.
He laughs and moves one hand to your hip again, leaning further into you and pressing his hips against yours. âSorry. Got distracted by your ass againâ, he confesses and itâs your time to snicker at him. But soon he begins to drive his cock harder and faster inside you, just like you asked, and your laugh is replaced by moans. âBetter now?â
âFuck yes,â you groan, feeling his dick hit all the right places inside of you. âPlease donât stop.â
âI wonât,â he assures you, his hips kissing yours again and again, the sound of your skins smacking together echoing through the room.
Heâs been driving you crazy the whole night with his slow and measured thrusts, his gentle and nice words and his overflowing affection, so itâs no wonder youâre already moaning loudly and fisting the sheets of his bed in very little time. Sungchan is no better than you, though. You can hear him grunting every time his hips kiss yours and feel his legs tensing beneath you. He probably planned to excessively and deliberately tease you until you were begging to cum, but he didnât realize heâd also be overstimulating himself before getting to the finish line. Itâs as annoying as it is adorable.
âHoly shit. You really look so good like this, princess,â he grunts, his eyes admiring how your ass jiggles against him with every forceful drive of his cock inside of you. âWanna burn this image on my mind. I wonât ever forget it.â
Your chest expands at his admission, getting dizzy from the knowledge that heâs so transfixed by you that he says something like that in the heat of the moment. The feeling curls inside your chest and you smile. Maybe he does reciprocate your feelings for him. Who knows?
You open your mouth to say something teasing about his statement, but the words are long forgotten when he reaches his hand up your shoulder to wrap around it and tugs you back against him hard, moving you back to him as he continues driving himself forwards. Your loud moans of his name turn into broken whimpers of random words you donât even remember thinking.
âSo wet and warm for me, gripping me so tight,â he says above you and you wonder how heâs still capable of forming sentences when that ability is now so hard for you. âFucking perfect.â
âYour dick is perfect,â you try to make out even though your brain is a mess. âYou are perfect.â
He moans and grips you tighter, showing he understood you. âThank you, doll. Now c'mere,â he says, moving his palm on your shoulder the other way around, hooking it under you. âWanna feel your skin on mine when you cum.â
Again, he maneuvers you the way he wishes to. With his cock still inside you, he removes his legs from between yours to position them outside of you now, putting pressure so you have no choice but to drive your legs together. The movement makes your pussy snugger around his cock and he moans, halting for a beat to bask in the feeling of it. Then he pushes your upper half up, hauling you up with his grip on your shoulder, making you raise yourself again until your back meets his chest. You feel prickles on your arm at the close contact and sweat makes you both sticky, your skin gluing you to him as Sungchan now moves a hand to grab at one of your tits and the other one to cross over your whole waist, clinging your body to his.
Youâre molded together. You wonât complain about it.
He rests his chin on your shoulder and grazes his thumbnail on your nipple, making you hiss. Then he starts moving again, his hips driving backwards and forwards with enough force to drive you away from him. Except his arms are still steady and firm around you, keeping you connected even through his hard thrusts inside of you, and you reach down to grip his thighs, your nails scratching him.
âThatâs it, princess, taking me so well,â he rasps on your ear and you bite on your bottom lip to keep yourself from being too loud.
âShit, Jinsu, I think Iâm-" You try to stutter out, your voice becoming high and airy as the head of his cock rubs deliciously on your g-spot.
âFuck yeah, I can feel you clenching around me,â he says and after his words you feel your cunt contracting even more, trying to keep him inside of you forever. âYouâre going to cum for me one last time?â
âYesyesyes.â You turn your head slightly back so you can rest your forehead on his temple. He turns his face to yours, too, and you watch as droplets of sweat fall from his hair to his face. You move your hand to his face to keep him there and Sungchan does the same with the hand that was gripping your waist, moving it to the side of your face to stroke over your cheekbone with his fingers. âIâm so close, Jinsu,â you murmur, lips ghosting over his.
âMe too, princess,â he replies and drops a kiss on the corner of your lips. âLetâs do it together, okay?â
You nod just as he slides his hand from your boob to your clit, rubbing it in quick little circles. The added stimulation on your clitoris makes you light-headed and you try to grip at the last shreds of your sanity to stay in the moment with him. Sungchanâs eyes shine against yours and you overwhelm your senses trying to concentrate on feeling everything at once. His hands and hold all over you, his fingers coaxing your orgasm out of you, his legs hitting on the back of your thighs, his hair brushing against your forehead, the smell of him and of sex â the smell of both of you together â invading your nostrils, his strength driving his hips against yours, his perfect dick hitting inside of you so good, his voice whispering dirty sweet nothings to you. And his lips that attach to yours the moment youâre on the edge of breaking apart, finally making you cum.
Sungchan kisses you while your pussy convulses on his cock and he thrusts inside you one, two, three more times until heâs spilling inside the condom. You keep clenching around him, trying to milk him until the last drop, and he keeps stroking your clit and kissing your lips. Only when your body starts twitching from the overstimulation and you grab at his forearm, he removes his hand from your cunt and detaches his lips from yours to kiss your cheek next. You sigh lazily, trembling on his arms as he pecks the same spot over and over, still muttering compliments and thank youâs. You canât make out what heâs saying exactly because your blood is still ringing in your ears, your heart is beating rapidly, your thighs are sore and your body is starting to feel the first signs of exhaustion. So, you caress his forearm and hope itâs enough to return the sentiment.
His grip on you loosens just a little and you try to shift ahead. Sungchan, of course, notices your movement, and in no time heâs delicately laying both of you back on the bed, your heated chest rubbing against the cool sheets becoming a luxury as he keeps his rib cage connected to your back, being careful not to drop his full weight on you. He closes his lips over your shoulder blades and you indulge yourself in the attention and tenderness heâs still giving you while you catch your breath.
After some time of exchanging lazy caresses and quick kisses, he finally disconnects his body from yours, pulling out of you and getting up to tie off the end of the condom. You instantly miss his warmth and wrap a hand around his wrist, turning on your side to look at him. He smiles at you and bends over to kiss your forehead quickly.
âI have to drop this in the trash and clean myself a little. Iâll be back in a minute,â he states and gives you another kiss, this time on the lips. Then he tugs his briefs back on, turns and walks out of the bedroom in the direction of the bathroom.
You exhale deeply as you turn your head to the ceiling, watching the shadows casted on it by the small droplets of rain still falling randomly outside. Your mind starts to work right away, trying to recap everything you just lived with Sungchan to hunt for signs of his feelings for you. But youâre so tired you banish the thoughts to the back of your head, covering yourself with the bedding from your toes to your head in a feeble attempt to hide from your own mind.
Sungchan is back a minute later, laying on the bed and draping himself all over and around you. You pinch his ribs when he drops his full weight on your stomach and he laughs, pulling at the sheets to see your face and body again. Once your head is out, he threatens to tickle you in retaliation for the tweak in his chest and you lift your arms in surrender, laughing with him.
When youâre both done laughing, Sungchan takes your hands in his and pins them to the bed beside your head, then kisses you. You smile between the soft press of his lips, giddy in oxytocin and pleasure.
âYou should probably use the bathroom, too,â he states when he pulls back and you know heâs right. You need to pee and freshen up. And find the courage to leave his house and go to yours. You still have an exam in the morning. âIâll grab your clothes from the dryer while youâre at it.â
You sigh dramatically and pull yourself from the bed and Sungchanâs arms. He chuckles and hands you a sheet to cover your body before you make your way to the bathroom, murmuring about how âShotaro could get home anytimeâ.
You nod and when you turn to walk away, he gives a pat at your bottom, making you yelp. You look over your shoulder to shoot daggers at him with your eyes, but the smile on your face lets him know itâs all in good fun.
Inside the restroom, you take your time peeing and stretching your limbs back to their places. You hope the soreness from being tense or in the same positions for too long will go away after a good night's sleep. Then you step into the shower to quickly rinse yourself of any bodily fluids and sweat, cleaning your hands methodically and letting some water fall into your messy hair. You wrap your body with the same towel you used earlier and move to stand in front of the mirror again to finger-comb your hair back in a ponytail. But the lilac polka dotted bow scrunchie you had on isnât with you anymore, probably getting lost around Sungchanâs room in the midst of everything.
You come back from the bathroom and find Sungchan seated on his bed, waiting for you already dressed and with your dried clothes placed by his side, a pensive look in his face while he stares at the wall opposed to him.
âI think I lost my scrunchie,â you say to him, pouting both because your favorite hair accessory and because Sungchan is already clothed. You were hoping youâd ogle his body some more before going.
Sungchanâs head snaps up when you arrive, like youâve caught him off guard while his mind was elsewhere, but he promptly shakes his reaction off with a smile. âWeâll search for it later.â He puts your clothes on his lap and invites you closer. âHere, Iâll help you dress.â
You saunter over to him and stand in between his legs, thinking heâs just going to hand you each piece of your clothing as you dress up. He surprises you when he picks up your panties, holding it with his two hands inside its waistband, and bends down, lowering the item so you can pass your legs through the openings.
You quirk an eyebrow up at him. âSeriously?â
âSeriously,â he replies with a smirk, staying very still as you analyze him, gaze unwavering on yours. You shrug and do as he pleases, standing on one foot and then on the other as you pass your legs through the loops successfully one at a time. He tugs the underwear up until itâs placed correctly around your hips, then pinches gingerly on the place where your right thigh becomes your right butt cheek, as he proudly says, âAtta girl.â
You roll your eyes at him. âI think youâre kinda obsessed with my ass.â
He smiles and preens his neck up to kiss on your clavicle. You fight the urge to search the contact of his lips again when he retreats. âYouâre right, I kinda am.â Then he picks up your bra next and signals his forefinger up and in a circular motion for you to turn around.
You turn on your heels and Sungchanâs fingertips start caressing both of your arms, moving softly along your biceps until your forearms and then to your wrists, bra still on his right hand between his pinky and ring fingers. Once he gets to your hands, he hooks the straps of the undergarment over your arms and pulls it up until each one is located on your shoulders. His hands go to your back to close the clasp, and you feel the teeth in the clip nipping slightly at your skin as he fastens it. He drops a kiss on your scapula and goosebumps raise all over your body. You wonder if heâs doing this on purpose, if his plan is to tease you and ruin you again and, at least, if this is as hot to him as it is to you. If he keeps this up, you might only get out of his place in the morning.
He grabs at your hips and turns back to him again, then holds your jeans, scrunching up the fabric of the legs so you can see the openings from the waistband until the bottom hems. Thatâs when you break your silence. âIs this some type of kink of yours?â
He chortles at you and holds the pants down for you to put on. You comply, passing your legs through the openings just like you did with the panties, and letting him yank it up. You pay attention to his eyes as he does it. His gaze sparkles as he watches your skin disappearing between his fingers and behind the fabric. You think itâs kind of cute and it reminds you of when you were little and did the same with your toys, changing their outfits nearly every minute. Heâs playing with you as if you really are his doll, dressing you up for him. But behind the glow on his eyes, you also catch a hint of longing. Something indescribable, that you canât quite put your finger on.
Sungchan drums his fingers around the waistband of your jeans until they go around all the way to find the button on its front. âNot a kink,â he says sincerely, pressing the button through its loop and then moving his digits down the fly to feel around for the zipper. âJust doing something nice for you.â
âWhy?â You question, suspicious eyes falling over his face as he focuses on tugging the zipper up and securing your fastened pants.
He shrugs. âBecause I want to.â Then, he hooks his fingers on the belt loops in front of your pants and pulls on them, therefore also pulling you to him. âBecause you deserve it,â he says simply with a smile.
You blush at his words, smiling back at him and leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. You want to get lost in his mouth again. You want to get rid of your clothes once more and lay down with him in this bed for a week, finals and chores and college responsibilities be damned. But Sungchan, ever the responsible one, withdraws and puts some distance between your bodies before you get too eager.
âThereâs still some clothes left to put on,â he says, snickering when you sigh in response.
You cave in to his will, collaborating with him to put your shirt over your head and then your hoodie. When youâre completely dressed and you straighten the clothes on your body, Sungchan finishes his little game of dress up by tying the strings of your sweater together with a bow. âPretty girl,â he says.
âPretty boy,â you say back, moving to sit on his lap, your legs perpendicular to his, one arm going around his shoulders and the other one resting over his, your fingers poking on the collar of his shirt, nails scratching the skin underneath. âI just think itâs a little unfair that I didnât get to help you dress.â
He chuckles and moves his hand to close around yours, turning it to press his lips on your knuckles. âMaybe another time.â
You scrunch your nose up, obviously not satisfied with his reply. âAnother time, then. I should probably get going anyway.â
Sungchan nods, but instead of letting you go, he pulls you close once more, wrapping his arms around your middle, his hands rubbing your back and his face hiding between your neck and shoulder. You hug him back just as tight, running your fingers through his hair while he breathes in your scent and presses kisses into every part his lips can reach. You stay like this for what feels like hours. Every time you think heâs done, he fixes his hold to hug you even tighter, almost binding you two together. When he finally slackens his grip a little, itâs only to move his hand to the back of your head and coax your lips in his. His tongue enters your mouth hungry and yearning, and you kiss him back with all the energy you can muster up. Just like all the kisses before, this one leaves you breathless and dazzled. Your mind is already fogged up and numb by the time he finally pulls back and, with moist lips and a piercing gaze, presses his mouth to yours one final time.
âYou should probably get going,â he repeats back to you. You have to blink your eyes open two times to understand what heâs saying and command your wobbly legs to remember how to stand up again. âIâll give you a ride.â
You nod at him and when you get up from his lap, Sungchan slides his hands down your shoulders to your upper arms, then to your forearms and wrists. He squeezes your hands two times before letting you go. You move to his nightstand to retrieve your cell phone, now charged and full of notifications you still leave unopened, and put it in your pocket. Then you bend down to plug the charger out of the switch.
âUh, I actually wanted to talk to you about something before you go,â Sungchan says the moment you take the charger out and you hear the uncertainty in his words, the fear.
Your heart skips a beat, your mind already whirring with a thousand possibilities of whatever he has to say. But you try to keep your expression emotionless and your eagerness at bay while you stand upright again. âSure. What is it?â You roll up the chargerâs wire and nod to him, encouraging him to keep going before turning on your heels to put your things away in your bag.
Youâre already with your back turned to him, crouching down to your backpack and opening the zipper of its front pocket when he speaks again. âYou remember the girl I partnered up with for my organic chemistry project?â
You pause when you hear him. The zipperâs slide is still as ever beneath your fingertips, the sound of the teeth getting dragged away completely stopping as you remain unmoving. You can sense something is wrong. You feel it in your bones. Whatever his next words are going to be, youâll not like it one bit.
If Sungchan notices your momentary stillness, he doesnât make any comment about it. You feel suspended in the air, on the edge of an information thatâll make you jump over the cliff. You wish you could go back to two minutes ago, when you didnât know he had something to tell you. But your curiosity and the red flags you so carefully stepped around before now come to the forefront of your mind. And you take the bait, dragging the teeth of the zipper back until its stop to mask up for any agitation in your voice when you reply. âThe sophomore majoring in biology? Yeah, what about her?â
âWeâve been hanging out for a while now,â he replies quickly this time while youâre putting your charger inside the bag and closing the pocket back. âItâs been working out pretty well.â
You stand up, then, and Sungchan pauses. Heâs probably inspecting your reaction before letting the full truth out. You know exactly what heâs going to say. Heâs about to reject you, to choose her over you. You wish you couldnât be able to hear right now. But you need to listen to him so you can move on from whatever this fucked-up thing between you two is. And you decide you need to see it, too, turning around to watch him and crossing your arms over your chest, waiting for the impact.
âI actually really like her,â he says, eyes fixed on the spot behind you on the wall, not quite looking at you. His tone is heavy on the really. He probably just likes you. But her? He really likes her.
And there it is. The whole truth. All those things you ignored before had been there for a reason. The two weeks with no contact. The text on his laptop that he scurried to hide from you. His insistence on wearing a condom. The many kisses, the slow fucking, the compliments. His intense gaze. Even his fucking words.
âI love it when you call me that.â
âI love feeling every part of you like this.â
âWanna burn this image on my mind. I wonât ever forget it.â
âYouâre fucking perfect.â
âWanna feel your skin on mine when you cum.â
âYouâre going to cum for me one last time?â
All of those words werenât because heâs in love with you. He didnât really miss you, either. Maybe your body, sure. But not you, not really. Not at all.
He was not being gentle and kind and pampering you for you. He wasnât gazing deeply into your eyes and showering you with kisses and beautiful words because he likes you. He was doing it to savor his last time fucking you before he turned another woman into his girlfriend. It was all because heâs discarding you.
He was saying goodbye. And you fell for it like a fool.
You have every right to be mad at Sungchan for taking advantage of your vulnerable self just to fuck you one last time. He likely planned to just keep ghosting you until youâd saw him around campus with his new bae and get the message, but then you called him and offered the perfect opportunity of a farewell shag on a silver platter. And he wasnât going to reject it. He played his cards right, of course.
But youâre not mad at him. At least he gave you three earth-shattering orgasms before breaking your heart.
Youâre really mad with yourself. Because you fucking knew it. The signs were everywhere. His silence about the status of your relationship wasnât because he liked you too much to confess to you or because he was afraid youâd not like him back. It was a strategy. It was about keeping you on his side for as long as he wanted to have you. Good and easy pussy. He didnât even have to make an effort to lie to you. You did it yourself, bending the truths so you could keep being with him, in whichever way heâd let you.
Plus, thereâs no way a man like Sungchan would settle for someone like you. You just choose to push away all the hints he gave you just to feed on crumbs of his affection. A trauma response or some shit like that, no doubt. Youâd have to ask your psychology student friend.
God, you really are pathetic.
âYouâre not going to say anything?â Sungchan asks, and you notice youâve been lost throwing a pity party on your own thoughts for a while.
To your merit, you shake it off like a champ, smiling at him and falling into your chill girl persona. âThatâs great, Jinsu,â you say, smiling even though youâre dying inside. âI guess that means we should stop meeting up, right?â
Sungchanâs eyes widen. He obviously wasnât expecting that reaction. Youâve probably shown your feelings for him a little too much and that made him real sure youâd have an outburst. But youâre a chill girl right now.
Chill girls donât care about their flings liking someone else. Chill girls donât want to know everything about it, too. They arenât curious in the slightest about how long heâs been seeing her, how many times heâs fucked her, if he calls her princess and doll too and if sheâs been on the same sheets theyâve just cummed all over in.
And chill girls particularly donât mind when their friend with benefits for half a year is choosing someone heâs only known for two months over them.
He recovers quickly, looking sheepish while he nods, his cheeks blushing. âYeah, would that be a problem? Iâm actually planning to ask her to be my girlfriend this weekend.â
Shit, you didnât need to know that. It hurts a little too much. Your smile falters for a beat, his words giving you whiplash. You feel dizzy and cold like you were dropped on icy water. If you kept walking outside in the rain, it wouldnât feel as bitter as this.
Then you turn away from him, busying yourself with picking your backpack up to put it over your body. âNo problem at all.â
But Sungchan plays with your feelings until the end, putting his hands on your shoulders to spin you back to face him. âAre you really okay with this?â He questions with his best puppy eyes.
Heâs still cute while he does it. What a fucker. Now you hate him for real.
If he thinks youâre going to spill your heart out to him and ask him to choose you, pick you, love you in a rendition of Meredith Greyâs speech, heâs very wrong. You still have some pride left.
âYes. Iâm happy for you, Jinsu,â you reply through gritted teeth, the same frozen smile from earlier on your face. You can only be so chill about this and heâs pushing it.
âOh!â He exclaims after your words, like a lightbulb went out in his head. He at least has the decency to stutter and seem embarrassed as he asks, âUh⌠Would you mind going back to call me by my name, too?â
Of course. You just lost your privilege to his nickname. Jinsu is reserved for his close friends and his soon-to-be girlfriend. And, obviously, he canât risk his new girl hearing another woman calling him such an intimate pet name. Sheâd have questions.
And youâre nothing for him anymore. You have to stick with his name now.
âOf course, Sungchan.â
âThanks, princess,â he says, and you quirk an eyebrow up at him. If you canât call him Jinsu, his nicknames for you are forbidden, too. He covers his mouth with a hand when he notices what he said. âSorry. Y/N.â
After that, you both walk to the foyer to put on your sneakers so Sungchan can take you home. You donât want to be in his presence anymore and you try to argue that you would be okay getting an Uber, but he blabbers on about how he insists about it and thatâs the least he could do.
You agree just to get it over with. Sungchan picks his car key from the holder in the hall and opens the door for you. You get a last look at his place before stepping out. You feel weird once youâre out and the door closes behind you, realizing that youâll never be inside his house again. The feeling churns in your heart and your eyes prickle, but you breathe deep and will it to go away.
You both are silent the whole two flights of stairs down his garage. And you stay like that while you get in his car and he turns the engine on, still not speaking a thing as he drives out of the small building complex and takes the path to your home. The only noise is the music coming out the radio and his old car sputtering up.
Luckily enough, your apartment is just a ten-minute drive from his. When he stops the car at your buildingâs curb, you gather your things from the carpet and say your goodbye. But Sungchan puts his hand over your, though, stopping you from opening the door.
âCan I have one last hug?â He has the audacity to ask.
Thatâs when you break your chill act.
You look over at him with raw and rough hatred. And he sees it, because he instantly retreats his fingers from you and flinches on his seat. âNo, Sungchan,â you almost growl at him, venom dripping from your mouth. âI think your girlfriend wouldnât like that.â
She probably will not like finding your favorite scrunchie inside the first drawer of his nightstand where you left it before getting out of his room, too. But thatâs not your problem to deal with.
After your final words, you open the door and get out of his car, practically running inside your complex. You stay somber while you walk inside and wait for the elevator. You stay solemn while you ride the elevator, waiting for it to get to your floor. You even remain serious while you type your code in and finally get inside your house.
But when you take your shoes off and drop your bag on the floor, your entryway light flickers over your head for a few seconds until the bulb goes out, leaving you in complete darkness. You stare into the dark and are also met with the silent empty space of your apartment.
You move your hand to the bow on your hoodie, the last snippet of your encounter with Sungchan you still have on. You pull on the strings and it disappears. Then you break down, curling over yourself until youâre on your knees, releasing loud sobs with chunks of tears coming out of your eyes.
What comes after is⌠being utterly alone.Â
authorâs note: phew! thank you for reading this little monster. please consider letting me know what you think about it in the comments or my ask box. feel free to scream at me all you want, i welcome it! <3
#i know i know i know#i'm so sorry#but honestly#sungchan is so damn hot#and cute and beautiful and perfect#i'd let him break my heart a thousand times#one day you don't write anymore#and in the next one jung sungchan takes over your mind and makes you write a 21k monster#lmao#amanda writes riize#amanda writes sungchan#sungchan smut#sungchan angst#sungchan fanfic#sungchan fic#riize smut#riize angst#riize fanfic#riize fic#riize x reader#sungchan x reader#sungchan x you#riize x you#riize x y/n#riize sungchan#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fic#nct smut#nct fanfic
540 notes
¡
View notes